Pride month - this year it's a little different

It's Pride Month, a time of protest, celebration, and joy for the #lgbtq+ community in the UK and around the world. I love this month; I look forward to it all year. For many of us, it's as important as Christmas because many LGBTQ+ people don't all have family and friends that accept us for who we are. Frequently, we choose our family and come together to celebrate our community, relationships, and lives.

I thought long and hard about whether to write this article and reflected again before posting it. Let's rest on that for a moment. In 2023, I had to consider whether some words about my own community would be deemed too "controversial" or have an impact on my fledging business. I'd have these same thoughts if I weren't self-employed too; I'd be concerned about what my employer might think. What does that say? Do we like what that implies? Are we comfortable with that?

Is being LGBTQ controversial in the 21st century? It certainly feels like it sometimes, and you'd not unreasonably get the perception that we are. Why does a UK community of just 1.5 million people drive so many column inches and near-constant broadcast reporting? How can such a small minority be exposed to endless political commentary, with the resulting negativity commanding both parliamentary time and civil service capacity? We certainly didn't ask for it.

It's fair to say that the last few years have been relentless. Rights and protections are being undermined; a narrative has been created through the so-called "culture wars," wrapping up LGBTQ+ rights along the way. This started with same-sex marriage, then abortion rights, and most recently, the confected moral panic around trans women (more on this later).

A couple of weeks ago, the Rainbow map (which charts LGBT friendliness) provided by ILGA-Europe showed that the UK had dropped down the rankings once again, from No. 1 just a handful of years ago to 10, then 14 in 2022, to 19 this year. How come? What makes the UK such an unfriendly place for LGBTQ+ people?

Well, in 2023, we're in a position where the abusive practise of "conversion therapy" is still legal in the UK, there's no timeline to implement a ban, and worse, trans people have been excluded from any ban of such harmful practises. According to the government's own figures, 7% of UK LGBT people have been offered or undergone conversion therapy, and this has taken place in medical, psychiatric, psychological, cultural, and family settings. LGBTQ people don't need fixing; there is nothing "wrong" with us, and those practises only cause damage and harm to people at their most vulnerable, but the ban hasn't happened, and whilst I hope, I sometimes wonder if it ever will.

At the end of March, the government announced a review of relationship, health, and sexual education statutory guidance to prevent "disturbing" and "inappropriate" material from being taught in schools. It's not reported yet; the august expert panel may well surprise us, and I make no judgement about them or their work. However, there is a policy discussion taking place about LGBTQ+ people, which basically looks at whether we should be talked about (appropriately, as you'd hope heterosexuals are), and even our existence acknowledged. I'm blind and proudly consider myself disabled, and I know no one would dare frame a national review about disabled people in such terms. Like many LGBTQ people, I was a victim of Section 28, the ban that prevented schools, the NHS, and local authorities (among other public bodies) from talking about LGBTQ+ issues. The result? An isolated community with poor access to genuine, reliable, and safe information. History risks repeating itself, especially now, when trusted information is needed by LGBTQ people more than ever before. This review gives me echoes of that time and fears for the future.

The so-called "culture wars" continue to be stoked, and they contribute to a wider political and media culture where LGBTQ existence is frequently challenged. When you dig into the culture wars (and there's some great stuff out there on this), the vast majority of the research indicates that:

• The public broadly recognises it's been created by the media and politicians (big P).
• They don't understand all of the terminology (or the commensurate outrage).
• The print media largely drives it (and it gets onto social media quickly).
• "Culture wars" have broadened over time and are being connected to an ever-greater group of issues.
• There is a clever narrative arc, starting with class, gender, and elitism, connecting to same-sex marriage, abortion rights, etc., whizzing into Brexit, and now connecting to BLM, XR, and trans rights (where next?)

Of course, the context for all of this is what actually concerns the public, and as May's IPSOS Mori Issues Tracker shows, it certainly isn't LGBTQ rights, trans issues, or indeed any connected matters. "It's the economy, stupid." Despite this overwhelming context, the #LGBT community is attracting the focus—and the ire—of an even smaller yet hugely more influential minority: our politicians and media. Ironically, the Edelman Trust Barometer reports that government and media are viewed by nearly 1 in 2 people as divisive forces in society and are also ranked as the two least trusted groups in public life.

I'm originally from the Midlands, but I'm officially a Londoner, as I've lived here for more of my life than anywhere else. I have a fabulous partner; we've been together ten years, and I love him like crazy. Yet, despite living in a global capital, we very, very rarely display affection in public. I'm blind, and when he guides me in public, I visibly show my white stick; I always hold his elbow or upper arm; and I automatically do what I can to "pass" as straight. Why? a combination of factors really, partly, it's because I (and almost all of my friends) have been victims of serious assaults or hate crimes over the years, and on each occasion, the police have done nothing except tell us to be "less gay" or something similar. I narrowly missed being a victim of the Admiral Duncan bombing which recently marked its 20 year anniversary, thank goodness for tube delays, but knowing that my community is hated enough to be nail bombed is sobering and cautionary. The other reason is that LGBT hate crime is continuing to rise, and I have no doubt that the climate being fostered right now, contributes to such hate. There is a lot of data, but I've pulled some key points out of a YouGov poll for Stonewall, which found:

• 1 in 5 LGBT people have experienced a hate crime or incident related to their sexuality or gender identity in the last 12 months.
• 2 in 5 trans people have experienced a hate crime or incident related to their gender identity in the last 12 months.
• 1 in 6 LGB people have experienced a hate crime or incident related to their sexuality or gender identity in the last 12 months.
• 36% of LGBT people don't feel comfortable holding their partner's hand while walking down the street, with 58% (3 in 5) of gay men feeling this.
• 1 in 10 LGBT people have experienced homophobic, biphobic, or transphobic abuse directed at them online in the last 12 months.
• 1 in 4 trans people have experienced transphobic abuse directed at them in the last 12 months.

Unsurprisingly, I cannot write about LGBTQ issues without talking about trans people—all 262,000 of them, according to the 2021 census. Trans people are a small but equally important part of my own community (yes, #GWithTheT here), who have suffered the near-unrelenting attention of the media and politicians for at least the last five years. Interestingly, considering 50% of the trans community are trans men, we never actually hear much about them; in fact, they're virtually invisible in nearly all of the reporting and political argy-bargy. There is a sensationalisation of media reporting, creating a disproportionate perception (a misperception, actually) that closely mirrors the headlines of the 1980s and 1990s about gay men and the unfounded dangers we posed. As the last couple of years have progressed, with the Gender Recognition Act, Human Rights Act, and Equality Act 2010 all threatened, and the Equality and Human Rights Commission failing in its duties, this sense of déjà vu has become sharper and more pointed. It all reminds me that hard-won rights such as marriage, civil partnerships, adoption, blood donation, inheritance, protection against discrimination, and so on, can be taken away as easily as they are given. Not just from LGBTQ people either; an Equality Act rollback would affect over half the UK population and seriously undo much-needed protections.

Today, we see narrow discussions about the Gender Recognition Act, public discussion on sharing women-only spaces - with toilets proving to be a key bit of regular reporting fodder - alongside the inclusion of trans women in elite and grassroots sport, once again, trans men are notably absent from reporting on both of these subjects.

As a retired GB athlete, I never came across a single out trans athlete—either a trans man or woman—in any discipline or sport. Equally, the International Olympic Committee created an informed framework that was based on science and, whilst not completely perfect, achieved a far better balance than many of the bans that have been enforced by British sporting bodies in the last year, the most recent of which is British Cycling's ban. A concrete failure to look at science alongside a realistic assessment of the sheer numerical lack of trans women (and men) participating in sport at both grassroots and elite levels is very concerning. It also serves to create even more hostility and challenge for trans people, who are among the least active (and most vulnerable) people in the UK population. I'm not saying that there aren't important conversations to be had on these issues, or that a way ahead needs to be found. I am saying that such conversations need to be respectful, inclusive and grounded in the facts, the science and the evidence, not rhetoric, unkindness and hyperbole.

In an allied space, there has also been a rise in campaigning against things like Drag Queen story hour, harmless events, which are child-appropriate. I'm not alone in remembering Drag Queens on TV in the 80s and 90s, nor am I alone in seeing pantomime Dames in theatres at Christmas. These performers and artists, have been part and parcel of British life for a long time now, they have been at the forefront of many of the battles for LGBTQ rights, and they bring joy to many people. What is more disturbing, is the very recent phenomenon of far right groups visiting communities across the country, protesting outside venues holding such events and bringing their hate to local areas. Just because Drag performers exist, doesn't mean you have to love them, it means you don't have to go and see them.

What does all this mean, and why did I write about it? Well, usually, I write something pithy suggesting brands need to create more inclusive workplaces and services. As a communications professional, I love the fact that so much beautiful and fabulous content is crafted for Pride, and as a gay man, I know that 16-year-old me would never have believed organisations and brands would want to associate with the LGBTQ community.

This year, I think it needs to be more than that. The last few years have been unrelentingly difficult for LGBTQ people, both in the UK and overseas, and the next few could be equally hard. Right now, we need those organisations and businesses that develop products and create stunning content to do a little more.

We need you to engage in visible, active #allyship, so firstly, use the progress flag, it represents all of our community, not just the bit you feel comfy with. Next, when things get difficult, when legislation is introduced, when guidance is fiddled with, or when rights are rolled back, we need to know that you have our back. We need your public support, and we need you to express your support for us in your advocacy, your meetings with the government, and your time with parliamentarians and the media. It's not a big ask, because you benefit from the love and the commercial success of your Pride campaigns; it's a quid pro quo, a fair exchange. I know you have it in you, so let's crack on together and build a more inclusive world with kindness and compassion at its heart.

I'm going to press publish now, and I have no regrets, I do have some hope though. Before I do depart, though, I hope that you all get to revel in the joy that is Pride, whether by attending a parade or march, a work event, a BBQ, or a party. However you do Pride, have a fabulous one.

Yours in Pride,

JDL x

#pridemonth #pride2023 #pridemonth2023 #prideatwork #lgbtqia #lgbtcommunity #lgbtpride #equality #equalityanddiversity