THEGAYUK

Category: Comment

  • COLUMN | Something for the weekend sir?

    I’m trying to be leaner. I don’t mean slimmer, more taut or fitter. I’m quite happy as I am if it means I can carry on sitting down a lot. I mean that I’m meaner.

    CREDIT: ©-everett225-Depositphotos
    CREDIT: ©-everett225-Depositphotos

    I’ve recently moved house and my expenses have rocketed out of all control. The cost of moving hasn’t just been on my mental health but has hit my pocket quite hard too. My savings have been battered out of existence.

    In a spirit of trying to rationalise my finances, I’ve been loitering round the reduced bread section in the supermarket in the early evening, buying unbranded products and taking my own lunch to work. I’m not exactly poverty stricken but my thoughts are that the less I spend on food then the more I can spend on clothes, DVDs and books. I can eat like a pauper and attend the theatre and the ballet like an aristocrat.

    Last week I went a step too far though. I decided to go for a cheap haircut. I’d spotted an unusual looking establishment on the bus to work which advertised ‘Any haircut: £5!”. I decided that as I was passing I’d give it a go. My hair style isn’t complex, just short with a side parting and a bit of grading. What could go wrong? Why do I need to spend £20 or £30?

    I walked in, sat down on the grimy plastic sofa and instantly regretted my rash decision. Firstly, it was warm and I was liable to stick to the cheap sofa. Secondly: the pictures on the walls threw me into a state of panic. Displayed on the walls was a picture of Gareth Gates circa ‘Pop Idol’ with his ridiculous spikes, a fair few thugs sporting mullets and some interesting shaved patterns on the heads of what looked the inmates of a young offenders institute. I was considering leaving when a squat Turkish man frogmarched me into a chair.

    “Wha you wan?’

    “Well, I like the sideburns trimmed to a number two with clippers and up the sides I like a….”

    Before I finished with my admittedly slightly pedantic requests he grabbed a set of clippers and ran them up the side of my head, ensuring there was no going back. I decided to go with it. I felt I’d reached a point where I had no other option. I was certain I was going to leave there looking like some odd 90s throwback or someone with a rare medical condition.

    He pushed my head forward and down, in a way reminiscent of a gay porno. He planted his palm on my face and pushed me sideways one way, then the other way. I felt like I was in a wrestling match. He reached for a huge razor and flicked off a used blade into a dirt speckled glass and deftly slotted in a blade and started shaving round my neck and sideburns at an alarming speed. I wondered just how new the new blade was and considered the fact that Hepatitis B is prevalent in the Borough where I live. I nervously waited for the nick, reassuring myself that like any sensible gay man, I’m vaccinated against Hepatitis B. This reassured me till I remembered about Hepatitis C which there’s no vaccine for.

    There were no cuts, luckily, but there was a liberal amount of water sprayed onto my head and face. Within less than 10 minutes he’d done and grabbed the gown off me, holding out his hand for the fiver. Where was the drying of my soaking hair, the showing me the back for approval (I hate that bit actually, I’m 42. No 42 year old wants to see the thinning bit at the back of his head) or the basic pleasantries?

    I staggered out of the shop, water dripping down my face, razor burn smarting on my neck and a rising sense of horror at what my hair would look like once I got home. You may or may not be surprised to learn that actually my hair looks great. It’s the best cut I’ve had in ages. Who needs niceties? Its a fiver. I think I’ll remain prudent for a while longer. I’ll be back there in a month. Stale bread anyone?

  • COLUMN | Natural Selection

    I was standing outside yesterday (having a sneaky cigarette, naturally) when a flock of parakeets flew past me. I thought I was hallucinating for a moment. I’m not in the Tropics but in South East London. Then I remembered, there are colonies of parakeets all over London.

    The urban myths are that they originate from a pair released by Jimmi Hendrix or that they escaped from Pinewood Studios during the filming of The African Queen. I prefer the latter explanation and like to think that these parakeets may be descended from a celebrity bird who perhaps had his stomach tickled by the steely Katherine Hepburn.

    This is the kind of nature I like. Nature that’s close to a 24 hour shop, is in a grimy urban environment and in a place where there’s full reception on my mobile. It’s much safer that way.

    Every morning a heron flies past my flat at about 7am. He’s huge, like a creature from pre-historic times. He glides over the courtyard at the back of my flat and I assume he’s on his way to work. I think he may be a commuter. He works long hours though. I’ve seen him returning at 7pm. He needs to get on to the ornithological union about his terms and conditions.

    Two minutes walk from my flat is a little park with a lake. The lake is a water bird reserve and contains a variety of newborns at the moment. There are goslings with dense yellow fluff, clumsy little moor hens and a group of miniscule ducklings. These bring out the inner child in me and I can stand and watch them for ages. There’s a sign by the lake advising against over feeding the birds and this sign is a picture of a huge rat. This brings out the inner panicked housewife in me. I want to find the nearest chair, jump on and tie the bottoms of my trousers up.

    An article in last week’s Time Out London did the same to me too. I never respond well to pictures of people holding up over sized dead rodents. I would have mounted the seat for ankle protection and screamed (a perfectly normal response to even the mention of a rat) but I thought that the other people on the train to Charing Cross might think I was odd.

    At the weekend I saw a crow attacking a pigeon, pulling chunks of flesh out of its wing. It was a malevolent beast, mean and brooding yet beautiful with its shiny black plumage; like a pantomime villain. This reminds me of my love/hate relationship with the natural world and why I don’t watch wildlife documentaries. I always end up horrified by the expression on the little animal’s faces as they get eaten alive by lions and I end up perturbed. Why can’t they all be vegetarians? I suppose you just can’t get good quality Quorn antelopes in the Serengeti.

    Yesterday I saw a dead fox. He was laid out on the window ledge of a big Edwardian house. He was magnificent and would have looked like he was just sleeping were it not for the little trickle of blood pooled around his mouth and the bone jutting out of his back leg. I squirmed a little at the sight but not at the corpse. I was more perplexed and disturbed as to why someone would have placed him on the window ledge. Surely a window ledge isn’t the ideal place to lay out a corpse? I’d hate to be that resident when they opened to the curtains. I’m not good with road kill.

    The local high street on the way to work is a minefield too. As a child I hated visits to the local market in the Midlands town where we lived. There were always rows of dead rabbits hanging up and my father would show his usual sensitivity by singing ‘Bright Eyes’: the theme from Watership Down to me. The local high street has stalls with ‘boiling chickens’ hanging by their feet. These are plucked chickens with their heads still on but with jagged knife wounds through their scrawny throats. I’m not tempted by them.

    As a child our house was a place that lacked safety from dead animals too. My father knew a man who knew a man who would provide him with game. I would skip into the pantry only to be confronted by a pheasant or a wood pigeon or a rabbit hanging by its feet. One time, memorably, I screamed to see a massive white goose hanging by its webbed feet. I suppose I should count myself lucky to have never walked in to find a deer hanging by its hooves.

    I know its all part of the natural plan. The weak and soft get killed by the predators or the hazards. I don’t have to try to like it though, do I? I think for now I’ll stick to admiring nature in parks and stick to my humus and lentils. It’s safer that way.

  • OPINION | Now, but, then

    “It’s a funny old world…” Supposedly the words of Margaret Thatcher to her cabinet on her resignation and, well, I suppose like many, I have found my thoughts turning more reflective points in the last month.

    I’ll state here and now that I was a great admirer of the Iron Lady and, yes, I voted to keep her in back in 1987. We’ll none of us pretend that she was perfect and I’m sure someone will mention Section 28, but how many will recall that she was one of the last three surviving Tory MPs who voted to decriminalise us in the 1960s?

    I think then, perhaps rather naively, that I was rather surprised to be on the receiving end of some really nasty homophobic abuse at a point when so much has changed since that vote almost 50 years ago. We know now that sexuality is innate, not chosen, as hard wired as the colour of one’s eyes. I firmly believe that, had such scientific proof been available when our only scientist Prime Minister was in office, Section 28 would never have been passed. Yet, although knowledge has changed, attitudes haven’t and thank brings me back to the abuse I received.

    It was such a modern form. Not for me the cat-calling in the street, or sneers in the staff room (they wouldn’t dare!); it was over twitter of all places, about as public as one can be in the social media. Now I am no shrinking violet, but there are words one should never use, and that was used in the insult, as was an emoticon of a pile of poo – how erudite! His parents must have been so proud. Yes, I was somewhat shocked and felt “yucky” afterwards and it did make me wonder how it must feel, in this day and age to be confronted face-to-face. For those of you wondering, yes I did forward the tweet both to Stonewall and my local police, strangely though, it appears I would have to make a complaint over the telephone and that’s where I hit that barrier that stops so many from reporting hate crimes. I was embarrassed and too ashamed.

    I realised that I did not want the interference and the intrusion into my world. What if they decided that I was in the wrong for sending a silly message to someone? What if my job came into play – I have to be very careful… What if the police simply did not believe me or thought I was wasting their time? It was, after all said and done, no more than an insult, something I had learned to deal with every day of my secondary school life in the 1980s. But I still felt the same shame I had felt then, somehow, my 44 year old self could no more confront the modern insult than the punch, the trip, the “accidental shove” and mutterings, or the cat-calls of “Are you a gay Christian?” (The “Not The Nine O’Clock News” sketch) bellowed from a common room window. And that was IT, the nub of the problem – fear.

    Back at school, the fear was discovery, I didn’t come out until my late 30s, after a failed marriage and two children; but what was the fear now? The most peculiar part is that I do not actually know. I am always fearful of the impact upon my career, having seen a colleague be forced to fall on his sword because of online indiscretion. I think it was a fear of being judged by others. That is now the fear I must overcome.

    To my long-term shame, I did not go to the Police. I let the fear overcome me and for that I am sorry. I feel I have let-down those who have been subjected to face-to-face abuse. Were I to make a resolution, it would be not to allow my fearful, 1980s teenage self to overcome what I thought was my twenty-teens forty-something person. And to the writer of the abuse, while you may have deleted your tweet, it did go to the LAGLO, Stonewall and was reported by a friend, braver than I. Courage will overcome abuse.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • OPINION | Pornography in the classroom

    If you are looking for a pleasant evening of entertainment, you appreciate a traditional, old fashioned musical and if you enjoy the slightly twee nature of the MGM classic musicals, then you will enjoy this very well rounded production.

    Predictably this has caused the usual moral outcry from Christian groups and claims that this is sexualising children. On a recent televised debate, I expressed the views that the discussion with teenagers was appropriate and that we cannot deny the existence of the porn industry and its place in modern society.

    Nobody is suggesting that that porn is shown as part of the sex education lessons but knowledge is indeed power and to allow the discussion in the safe classroom environment is healthy. By talking in an open and honest way we are taking the demonization of porn away and allowing teenagers to see it for what it is, an expression of human sexuality. We are equipping them with the skills to make an informed choice. Lessons on drugs and alcohol are common place; these inform and advise about the dangers of addiction. Of course, this in an important aspect of the discussion and education of pornography. For example a young gay man may only have the opportunity to express themselves through pornography and they may be in particular risk of becoming addicted.

    Beyond that it enables us to open into the discussion about body types and imagery. Indeed in gay porn the types typically represented are classically either slim feminine looking “twinks” or smooth muscular jocks. For the young gay man coming to terms with his sexuality and masculinity, it can be confusing and intimidating to feel that they need to confirm to these sexual types. The message being sent is that only these types have active satisfying sex lives and considered desirable. Not everyone is toned, hairless, beautiful and waxed, that is an image that is represented because it the most commercially viable.

    The other discussion that is prevalent within the porn industry is unsafe sex practices and the rise of bareback porn. Nobody in the porn industry is completely reckless and studios that film in this manner insist that performers are regularly tested and validated before filming scenes. However, this is not represented to the average teenager viewing porn across the internet in the seclusion of their bedroom.

    What bareback porn does is normalise reckless sexual behaviour. The latest figures from Public health England indicates a rise of 5% in STD infections in the past year with chlamydia and gonorrhoea being the highest cause reported cases. The discussion of safe sex is already happening but clearly, the message is being lost.

    Pornography can allow young men and woman to explore their fantasies in a safe manner. It may be the case that they are not entirely comfortable with the concept of same-sex attraction or bisexuality. Through viewing porn or reading erotica, it allows the teenager to define and experiment with their own sexual identity. Pornography allows them the space to express this desire without feeling intimidated and free from judgment.

    Returning to the central argument, I have provided reasons as to why it is important for us to engage with teenagers about pornography as part of sex education. As I said before knowledge is power and it is important that we pass that power onto the most vulnerable members of society. If we choose to ignore the porn industry, then we run risk of being naive at best and ignorant at worst, and ignorance is never a lesson we should be teaching.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, it’s management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • OPINION | When Pride Was About Pulling

    Gay Pride events, what wonderful things they are. These days I like to get fully involved in the true meaning of pride and have an active role in community aspects of it.

    I am even organising my county’s first ever Pride (www.warwickshirepride.co.uk). But there was a time in the not too distant past when going to Pride was all about pulling.

    One year when I was particularly ‘mad fer it’, I went to Birmingham Pride with the intention of getting extremely drunk and copping off with as many guys as I could. How disappointed I was when it didn’t work out quite like that. What was even more disappointing was seeing each person I was at Pride with getting off with someone or at least having somebody show an interest. Even my heterosexual step-mother got hit on by a lesbian, but I had absolutely no interest in me at all. I know, how can that be possible?

    I spent the afternoon at the famous Nightingale Club in Birmingham with my friends and step-mother. It was a typically rain drenched Pride day so we had decided to take shelter and get drunk. I went to the toilet with my step-mother to get dried off. At this point a guy armed with a bag full of hairdressing equipment said he would style my step-mothers hair (as you do in a unisex toilet at Gay Pride – anything goes, I guess). Upon leaving the toilet my step-mother had been transformed from a drowned rat into a glamourpuss courtesy of the dude carrying a hairdressing kit around Pride all day. As she strutted towards the bar, heads were turning and one particular woman walked up to her and said “alright darling”. My step-mother thought it was hilarious. I was horrified. Why was she getting hit on and I wasn’t?

    I eventually saw the funny side of it and continued with my plan to pull. Once my step-mother had gone home and I was more able to misbehave, I began picking out the guys that I wanted to get jiggy with. Alas, more disappointment awaited. Nobody reciprocated the not so innocent feelings I had. Worse still, a girl I was with pulled a woman and my male mate pulled a man dressed as Queen Elizabeth 1st, which was quite bizarre actually.

    Eventually, I resigned myself to the fact I wasn’t even going to get a Pride snog. So I got very drunk and shook what my mama gave me in the club that night. But the next morning something unexpected happened.

    I was sharing a hotel room with my friend who had previously decided he was into guys that dress as Queen Elizabeth 1st, and somehow found myself in a tryst with him. It was nice. It was familiar. It wasn’t what I had intended, but sometimes these things just happen.

    So although I did pull, I don’t really count it as it wasn’t with somebody I didn’t know. I went home feeling incredibly disappointed that I had failed in my task. My strike rate had been very high, but perhaps I just tried too hard that weekend.

    Looking back, I am not too impressed with the way I conducted myself and now realise there is so much more to life than getting off with guys, and indeed more to Pride than pulling. However, on the other hand, I am glad I was like that because it has provided me with plenty of entertaining stories to tell my mates down the pub, and also some that I can share here.

    However you view Pride and whatever you get up to while you are there, the only thing I must insist on is that you have pride in yourself and enjoy it. If you see it as an opportunity to pull, then go for it and be safe. If you see it as a time to protest and focus on the issues that LGBT people face, then I salute you and again say go for it. Pride can be whatever you want it to be.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • OPINION | Closets are for clothes

    “What have you done today to make you feel proud?” Heather Small

    Today I was able to kiss my partner in public and for that, I am proud. I am proud to live in a society where being part of the LGBT community is accepted and I am able to express my feelings for a member of the same sex openly without judgement.

    The Stonewall riot of 1969 in New York City inspired and motivated members of the LGBT community to fight for equality. The gay liberation movement encouraged people to accept and announce their sexuality and has influenced celebration for years to come in the form of Pride Parades.

    Since this time the LGBT community has grown and although the fight for equality still continues we are still further that we were over forty years ago. Although something simple such as showing my partner affection in public may seem small, it stems for years of struggle and fighting for recognition and acceptance.

    I have openly admitted to my parents that I was gay. At a New Year party my Mother looked at me and said,

    “So, I see your in a relationship on Facebook. Who is he?”

    For years I had been dancing and thought no one was watching. In theory, everyone had been watching and they were waiting for was for me to discuss the matter.

    “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?” RuPaul

    Although my Nan still refers to my boyfriend as my ‘special friend’ I still know that I have support from my family and friends in terms of my sexuality. I am proud of them for being open minded and accepting.

    Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my Mother had never questioned my relationship status. Would I have been strong enough to recognise that the closet is just for clothes?

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COLUMN | We’re here, we’re queer and we might go shopping

    I’m at that age where I’ve become a bit jaded. Let’s just say I’m over 40, A.K.A. dead in gay years. I get the sensation that I’ve seen it all before and done it all; more than once.

    The thought of hanging about in a park all day whilst a lot of drunken people watch the latest celebrity boy bands whilst trying to get Grindr to work and buying cheap tat that’s had the word “gay” added to make it saleable, is my idea of hell.

    Thinking back though, this wasn’t always the case. It was the late 1980s and aged 18, I got on a coach laid on by the local gay bar from the Midlands town where I lived, and came down to London to attend Gay Pride. I was intrigued by what it would be like and had no idea what to expect, media coverage of such events being largely non-existent then. I wasn’t expecting what I saw.

    The huge throng of people was a sight to see. I’d also never seen so many gay people or even had any idea that they’re that many LGBT people in the whole of England. I’d also never seen men kissing in public or holding hands and thought that I’d landed on some strange planet where things were as they should be. There were many other things I hadn’t seen before: two women with their breasts pierced and chained together (Health and Safety hazard: one slip or trip and you’d lose a nipple), 30 men dressed as Wonder Woman charging along to the theme music from the show, drag queens in vertiginous heels and many many other weird and wonderful sights. The appeal wasn’t that alone though. There were also a huge amount of people just like me. Representatives from the emergency services, various social, political and career groups were all out and proud with a rallying cry of “We’re Here, We’re Queer and we’re Not Going Shopping”. I liked the more strident political side to it and the inventive banners as much as the comedic ones and the fripperies of the O.T.T. drag.

    For once, I actually didn’t really want to go shopping. I passed Fortnum and Mason’s without as much as a twitch. I was amazed that we were so public and that we passed so many London landmarks and also staggered that no one was throwing bricks, spouting venom or condemning us to hell-fire.

    The festival on the park afterwards had a drag tent which kept me amused, as well as some bad pop and a wealth of people watching opportunities. I felt strangely empowered as the fireworks went off with a bang (as they do) and the bus set off for home.

    It’s hard to remember our youth and more innocent joy at things we now take for granted so maybe I’ll try again. Well, I may have to pop in Fortnum and Mason’s first. One needs a good picnic and a comfy rug if sitting on a park at my age.

  • EDITOR’S LETTER | June, Pride

    Hello all and thank you so much for your continued support for THEGAYUK. Last month we had a record month with as our reach topped over 150,000 unique readers.

    This month we’re dedicating our pages to Pride. Yes love it or loathe it, Pride season is upon us and this year THEGAYUK is happily media sponsoring a number of Prides around the UK – and we look forward to meeting as many of you as possible – if you see us in our sexy T-Shirts come and say hey!

    Pride, I believe, is an incredibly important event for the gay community, from it’s humble beginnings on the July 1st 1972 in London, with just 700 people marching the streets to the mass lavish parties we’ve come to know and love in many of our cities across the UK – But what’s truly wonderful to witness is the growing number of new Prides and smaller Prides that are really starting to blossom.

    My first Pride experience was a little inauspicious shall we say – years before I was out, I happened upon Pride London quite by mistake – as I sat on the Tube from my home town in the far reaches of North London the Tube carriage began to fill with a number of colourful characters – odd I thought, but wasn’t too alarmed. It was only when masses of men boarded the train, dressed in all kinds of costumes, holding hands and yes, even kissing, I began to think I was no longer Kansa, or indeed Southgate… Dorothy.

    Being young and still at that ‘I’m not gay’ stage, I was genuinely shocked and intrigued, my twinset and pearls were being clutched, but I did want to know more, perhaps that man crush I had on a certain Neighbours character was something after all.

    Years on I relish Pride season – putting the clubbing and parties aside, Pride is an important tool for the LGBT community. It breaks boundaries, it allows our voices to be heard and for us to continue our journey to full societal equality.

    We must never forget who we are and how far we, as a community have come, in a relatively short time.

    To quote the theme from Oxford Pride this year, we’re ‘Not There Yet’ but we are getting closer everyday.

    We’re also launching our brand new Sexual Health campaign along with the Freedoms Shop, we’ve dubbed it the No Excuse Project.

    We’re aiming to deliver free condoms to anyone who doesn’t have access to condoms, to those who are too shy or embarrassed or aren’t able for whatever reason to get hold of condoms.

    With the rise of sexual infections and record new HIV infections amongst men who have sex with men, we’re passionate in making sure there is No Excuse not to have a condom in your house or pocket.

    If you’d like to know more or even help us fund the project visit www.noexcuse.thegayuk.com – Every £1 donated could potentially save 8 people from contracting a sexually transmitted disease in the UK.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • OP ED | Can a gay guy ever be turned straight?

    After the recent remarks by Colin Murray and Bob Mills about ‘turning’ Clare Balding during a live radio broadcast on BBC Radio 5, writer Barry Heap discusses whether ‘I’ll Have A Go At Turning You’ is an offensive thing to suggest.

    At a recent friend’s wedding, an older glamorous cougar type whispered into my ear

    “I’d have a go at turning you”

    As she slid my tie in a suggestive manner I laughed at Mrs Robinson.

    The statement was meant in a flirty good humoured form of banter. We spent the rest of the night drinking whisky and dancing to northern soul. I took the statement as a huge compliment, I’m not offended.

    But I’m informed that I should be, apparently I was degraded as a man. My sexuality was disrespected and it was implied that I was free and easy to choose my sexuality as easily as I had chosen the trio of lamb for the wedding breakfast.

    The truth is if we are to say that this statement is offensive to gay people, we need to cast an eye closer to home or become hypocrites. After all that is where many of us began back is high school, following the unattainable straight boy at high school. But things progress from there it only takes a quick search on the internet to find thousands of pages of slash fiction written about straight characters on TV series having gay sexual encounters. There’s also the endless speculation on the sexuality of celebrity’s such as Tom Cruise and John Travolta

    Taking a further look into the internet, there are many gay porn sites that feature performers who identify as “gay for pay”. This means that off camera they are straight but on camera, they are quite happy to perform with other guys. Yes, it’s exploitive but there is clearly a market for it as many pay sites offer the illicit thrill of seeing a straight jock “turned”.

    On the flip side of the coin, many straight friends are happy to discuss celebrities that they would like to “experiment” with. Russell brand, Robert Downey Jr and Eric Bana are all mentioned. I have no doubt that if any of these unlikely scenarios were to present themselves that nothing would happen; it is fantasy because they are straight. I respect their sexuality as much as they have respected and supported mine. What they may be uncomfortable in saying is that they find these men very attractive and appreciate their beauty I can see their point of view, I find Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman absolutely stunning but I would never fantasise about them sexually, the ways I look at them, are Very different to how I think about Hugh Jackman (which are not fit for publication)

    So where does this leave us? I think that we can find other people attractive of either gender, sexuality is fluid but maybe sexual orientation is less so. For people identifying as gay or straight, we can be sure who we would sleep with and the line between fantasy and reality.

    When it comes to the attraction we are not interested in the others person’s orientation.

    Maybe we should just all relax, it’s easy to judge and be oversensitive over what is meant as a bit of banter. Perhaps Thatcher would not appreciate the irony of the phrase “the lady’s not for turning” being used in this manner,

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • OP ED | Gay PDAs

    During a recent online discussion about holding hands in public, I was criticised for expressing the point of view that even though I was comfortable doing this but I don’t always feel like it. The argument levelled to me is that I had missed the point.

    Around 70 countries still hold penalties for same-sex activity and 7 carry the death penalty. On the contrast the UK is one of the more tolerant and supportive countries. To address this, I appreciate that we are lucky to live in a country where we even have the choice.

    I have been called “queer “ and “faggot” for carrying out the outrageous act of holding my boyfriend’s hand in a city centre, but the truth is I do not care. They are the words that they choose to define me with, which is their perception of me, it is not me. Their poison does not drip into my life. They do not dictate my relationship and how I choose to live my life. Sadly the bitchy comments and stares are not only from the straight community, I’m 11 years older than my partner and overweight. My boyfriend is 22 and leads an active lifestyle. I joke with friends that I’m punching above my weight but we’re happy and the relationship works for us. However, within the gay community we can attract as much negative attention because we don’t seem it fit within the gay cookie cutter.

    Part of the criticism is that because I live in a country where I am able to hold my partner’s hand, I should. However this is not me either, sometimes I’m up some days I’m down. Sometimes I will be the more affectionate in the relationship and initiate contact, others times I value my space. I’m a walking messy contradiction of a person, I’m human after all. And so is my partner. I’m secure in the relationship so I don’t need to be tethered to him 24/7. When we are out and I see other guys checking him out I can smile inwardly and outwardly, because I know we belong to each other.

    I have no need to be insecure. I don’t need to walk everywhere hand in hand together to feel that I am with someone, because mentally and emotionally I am.

    Have I missed the point? I don’t think I have, I have the choice to hold my partner’s hand, to hug him and kiss him in public. I have the same rights and freedoms as any straight person in public. Sometimes I will choose not to because I am a person not a living breathing political agenda.

    The fact that this is even a conversation in 2013 says that we still have a long way to go but that will be decided by governments and politicians, not me. My individuality and sexuality are 2 different parts of me, they are for me to decide, no one else.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, it’s management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • OP ED | Action (Wo)Man

    Tesco has become the second major retailer to be criticised in recent months for gendering the sale of its children’s toys.

    Boots previously displayed science toys for boys and ‘domestic games’ or Tea Sets for girls. Clearly boys or men do not drink tea and girls cannot be expected to understand the science behind every day things? It is not only sexist, it is socially damaging

    Segregating toys by gender, and denying children the chance to develop their interests, damages formative education and perpetuates gendered constructs into later learning. The World Bank’s 2012 report on Gender Equality and Development argues that it is “stereotypes within the education system, norms governing gender roles in the household that constrain a woman’s choice of occupation.” Indeed, early learning impacts educational and academic choices and leads to limited talent pools for ‘atypical’ occupations.

    Children’s author Megan Peel writing in the Guardian highlights that “Boots is a science-based company that employs many female pharmacists, opticians and chemists and should know better than to discriminate in this way.” Indeed Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics (STEM) suffers from low representation of women in their sector and therefore compete for the few candidates in order to attract a diverse workforce. A 2011 report by the U.S. Department of Commerce found only one in seven engineers is female and less than 20 percent of bachelor’s degrees in computer science go to women, even though female graduates hold 60 percent of all bachelor’s degrees. Industry news site The Engineer suggests that women constitute just 8.7% of professional engineers in the UK – much lower than China where more than a third of engineers are women. So Tesco’s defending of their chemistry sets as ‘for boys’ and toy cookers as being ‘for girls’ is aggravating existing gender imbalances; which are clearly socially constructed.

    What also perplexes me – why is it always down to the women to challenge unconscious bias? I watched the BBC Breakfast covering this story and Suzanna Reid proudly asserted that ‘there is nothing wrong with a boy playing with dolls’ but she was met by a stifled sneer from Bill Turnbull who quickly deflected to a spokesperson from @LetToysBeToys. Even the sample of ‘everydaypeople’ spoken to on the street reflected a very gendered approach – one man said that he didn’t expect a boy to play with Barbie while a young mother (her baby boy in tow) said ‘if he wants a doll, he’ll have a doll!’ Why do men feel they have to police gender?

    This also has further implications for the LGBT communities. Men feel they are expected to reinforce the differences between them and women, with gay and bisexual men seeming to blur these boundaries; whether through alternative choice of toys, clothing or employment.

    The Gay British Crime Survey 2008 conducted by Stonewall highlights that the majority of victims of homophobic hate crime are young gay men, administered by males under the age of 25. For me gendering toys is homophobic and misogynistic, the two often linked. Every gay friend of mine at university had a My Little Pony. In fact when I had my tonsils out as a child I was rewarded with a toy of my choice – and what did I choose? Yes, a My Little Pony. Despite some initial reservations, my parents did not deny their child his wish and I feel that their support for my ‘different’ behaviour has helped my creativity and ability to seek out what I really want in life, rather than what I feel is expected or demanded of me.

    Institutional gendering of toys perpetuates negative and limiting constructions of gender. They also reinforce the binary of male or female, thus excluding those along the gender spectrum leading to the disproportionately high levels of isolation, depression and suicide amongst the transgender community. The National Centre for Transgender Equality (NCTE) estimates that between 30-50% of the transgender community has attempted suicide at least once. Although this is not immediately correlated with gender construction alone, it does highlight one barrier to be overcome by those transitioning between one gender and the other, especially when considering the young.

    The EverydaySexism.com site lists reams and reams of cases where prejudice against the gender spectrum is enacted on a daily, and often unchallenged, basis. Much of the examples are ignored or disregarded as too widespread, low-level or unchangeable. But if we all do not challenge these consistent inequalities and unfairness then they will not change. It is not ‘petty’ to demand equal pay (as it was deemed until 1975), women and men are not simply ‘acting up’ if they do not want to be spoken about as sexual objects and it is not acceptable as a mother or father to deny your daughter a science kit or your son a tea set; if they prefer an Action Man or Barbie then at least you have a child who knows and speaks their mind – isn’t that what a self-fulfilled adult is all about?

     

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