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Let us go a little further since the Tory councillor has got me riled. Let us look at why organisations like EACH are important generally and for GBLT folks in particular
There is a lot of crap that most marginalised people have to deal with, regardless of what makes them marginalised. This is known and doesn’t really need repeating
In short, you have to deal with crap. And you have to do it every day. And it’s not going to stop. No, really, it isn’t. Not in our lifetime. This means for sheer mental health you need safe places. You need support networks. You need people and places where you can go or who you can speak to who understand who you can trust not to hurt you by mistake or through prejudice or through ignorance. You need to tell the world “Time out” just for a little while, to get your breath back.
I once had someone ask me why there were gay bars but no straight bars (He also asked why there was a WI but no MI *eye roll*). He asked why we needed space, programs, organisations for gay people, women, black people etc etc. I pointed out that 99.9% of all bars in this country were straight bars. That 99%+ of the whole damn world was their space. That the vast majority of programs, organisations etc are set up and work ideally for the dominant folk. We have our crumbs round the edges, our little nooks, our tiny corners. These are our oasis in the desert.
EACH is an oasis. It’s a shield, a place to help protect and shelter us and it’s a damn good one. It’s a support network for people who face some of the worst hostility and who have very very little in the way of support and are especially vulnerable.
There’s a big reason why support groups and communities are useful for GBLT people - especially gay teens. We can’t rely on a domestic support system.
My family is not gay. Amazing, right? 90% of all gay people have immediate family that are not gay, don’t understand what it means to be gay and are generally dripping in heterosexual privilege and all the little teeth clenching that can cause nearby homosexuals. Unlike many marginalised people, our nearest and dearest (especially when we’re young) do not share our marginalisation - and do not understand it. In fact, our families can, and often are, one of the biggest sources of fear and stress.
When I cam out to my parents, I was lucky. They’re reasonable, good people and there was not even the slightest chance of them beating me, kicking me out or trying to emotionally destroy me (all too common responses). I knew they’d love me no matter what. In fact, my mum even said so...
“You can’t help it. We still love you and that’ll never change, no matter what you do.”
Which is wonderful and supportive? Yes? Well it was and it was comforting... except for the huge shame subtext. For many years afterwards I lived basically thinking there was something terribly wrong with me. It wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t help it. But it was still extremely wrong, embarrassing and shameful and how disappointing I must be. Prejudice against gays was unfair and harsh but not WRONG and the idea of gay rights was just alien. This was not a healthy mindset for the young Sparky.
Now, I think a reasonable reaction to reading that would be a “wtf” followed by a “c’mon Sparky, you’re like super ranter against all things homophobic, ready to bitch, rant, whine and wield wet fish at any and all shit being thrown at you!”
And I am. Ish. NOW. But I am NOW because I’ve been part of gay organisations and gay communities and gay news and gay websites and spoken to other gay people. I had never met another gay person - the idea that there may BE another gay person in Britain was just pure conjecture. I thought there might be 50 of us. Altogether, in the whole country. I didn’t understand homophobia. I didn’t even know the word existed. I didn’t realise the correct response to an Aunt saying “oh what a shame” was NOT to hang head in embarrassment but to snatch up some cutlery and stab her until she stopped twitching.
And there was no-one to teach me. My parents didn’t know, they couldn’t. Even today one of them will occasionally say something that makes me cringe and leave me in the awkward position of pointing out what they’ve said to upset me and upset THEM or risk them doing it again.
This is why we need organisations like EACH. This is why ANY marginalised group needs these safe spots to just BE without having to act or limit or worry. But for the GBLT community, especially GBLT teens, we need these groups because we have no-one else. GBLT teens usually can’t go home to a mother who understands, a father who can give advice, talk to a grandparent who has grown up with homophobia. They don’t have a family or community to tell them that they’re ok, that they’re alright, that they’re good and fine and excellent, to tell them their history or their rights or even about the prejudice they’ll face and how to deal with it.
They’re alone. Alone, fragile and very susceptible to internalising hatred, losing their self worth or being damaged and scarred for a very long time.
There is a lot of crap that most marginalised people have to deal with, regardless of what makes them marginalised. This is known and doesn’t really need repeating
In short, you have to deal with crap. And you have to do it every day. And it’s not going to stop. No, really, it isn’t. Not in our lifetime. This means for sheer mental health you need safe places. You need support networks. You need people and places where you can go or who you can speak to who understand who you can trust not to hurt you by mistake or through prejudice or through ignorance. You need to tell the world “Time out” just for a little while, to get your breath back.
I once had someone ask me why there were gay bars but no straight bars (He also asked why there was a WI but no MI *eye roll*). He asked why we needed space, programs, organisations for gay people, women, black people etc etc. I pointed out that 99.9% of all bars in this country were straight bars. That 99%+ of the whole damn world was their space. That the vast majority of programs, organisations etc are set up and work ideally for the dominant folk. We have our crumbs round the edges, our little nooks, our tiny corners. These are our oasis in the desert.
EACH is an oasis. It’s a shield, a place to help protect and shelter us and it’s a damn good one. It’s a support network for people who face some of the worst hostility and who have very very little in the way of support and are especially vulnerable.
There’s a big reason why support groups and communities are useful for GBLT people - especially gay teens. We can’t rely on a domestic support system.
My family is not gay. Amazing, right? 90% of all gay people have immediate family that are not gay, don’t understand what it means to be gay and are generally dripping in heterosexual privilege and all the little teeth clenching that can cause nearby homosexuals. Unlike many marginalised people, our nearest and dearest (especially when we’re young) do not share our marginalisation - and do not understand it. In fact, our families can, and often are, one of the biggest sources of fear and stress.
When I cam out to my parents, I was lucky. They’re reasonable, good people and there was not even the slightest chance of them beating me, kicking me out or trying to emotionally destroy me (all too common responses). I knew they’d love me no matter what. In fact, my mum even said so...
“You can’t help it. We still love you and that’ll never change, no matter what you do.”
Which is wonderful and supportive? Yes? Well it was and it was comforting... except for the huge shame subtext. For many years afterwards I lived basically thinking there was something terribly wrong with me. It wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t help it. But it was still extremely wrong, embarrassing and shameful and how disappointing I must be. Prejudice against gays was unfair and harsh but not WRONG and the idea of gay rights was just alien. This was not a healthy mindset for the young Sparky.
Now, I think a reasonable reaction to reading that would be a “wtf” followed by a “c’mon Sparky, you’re like super ranter against all things homophobic, ready to bitch, rant, whine and wield wet fish at any and all shit being thrown at you!”
And I am. Ish. NOW. But I am NOW because I’ve been part of gay organisations and gay communities and gay news and gay websites and spoken to other gay people. I had never met another gay person - the idea that there may BE another gay person in Britain was just pure conjecture. I thought there might be 50 of us. Altogether, in the whole country. I didn’t understand homophobia. I didn’t even know the word existed. I didn’t realise the correct response to an Aunt saying “oh what a shame” was NOT to hang head in embarrassment but to snatch up some cutlery and stab her until she stopped twitching.
And there was no-one to teach me. My parents didn’t know, they couldn’t. Even today one of them will occasionally say something that makes me cringe and leave me in the awkward position of pointing out what they’ve said to upset me and upset THEM or risk them doing it again.
This is why we need organisations like EACH. This is why ANY marginalised group needs these safe spots to just BE without having to act or limit or worry. But for the GBLT community, especially GBLT teens, we need these groups because we have no-one else. GBLT teens usually can’t go home to a mother who understands, a father who can give advice, talk to a grandparent who has grown up with homophobia. They don’t have a family or community to tell them that they’re ok, that they’re alright, that they’re good and fine and excellent, to tell them their history or their rights or even about the prejudice they’ll face and how to deal with it.
They’re alone. Alone, fragile and very susceptible to internalising hatred, losing their self worth or being damaged and scarred for a very long time.