Simon Copland

Simon Copland writes on the importance of having an open discussion about queer sex in an age where conservatives make it a constant focus of attacks.

Originally published in SBS Sexuality, 19 September 2016

Last Thursday, the Queensland Government passed a long overdue reform to reduce the age-of-consent laws for anal sex to 16. The importance of the legislation passed on Thursday cannot be understated. The bill decriminalises the consensual sex everyone knows is happening, and stops the teenager who just turned 18 from potentially being prosecuted for having sex with his boyfriend who is still 17. This has big flow-on affects. This legislation will give space for young gay men to access sexual health services without the fear of being labelled a criminal, something which is particular important in a time when HIV infection rates remain stubborn. This will hopefully allow young gay men (and others who are having anal sex) to have greater access to sexual health services and preventative measures — condoms, sexual devices, education programs, and ideally, PrEP.

Despite these really important benefits however, this issue in many ways has received little attention from much of the gay community. In a time when LGBTQIA+ rights are front and centre of the national debate, the bill received little fanfare or celebration from most LGBTQIA+ groups (apart from the Queensland AIDS Council), passing the halls of Parliament largely unheard. If it wasn’t for George Christensen (more on this soon) there’s a good chance most people wouldn’t even know it happened.

While we may say this is because the law is so local, I think it’s due to a bigger fear within our community. This legislation ran against the standard narrative of many LGBTQIA+ groups because it was about something we hardly talk about — sex.

Enter George Christensen. If you look at Christensen’s response to this bill, I can understand our community’s fear. Christensen immediately connected the legislation to paedophilia, saying in a Facebook post (which I do not wish to link to) the bill will allow fifty-year-old gay men to prey upon teenage boys.

The response was disgusting, but unsurprising. As queers our sex lives have always been a target. We’ve been called excessively promiscuous (as if that’s a problem), paedophiles, and spreaders of a ‘gay cancer’. Sex is a predominant method of attack from conservatives — a way they can paint us as dangerous to the broader community.

What the relative silence of this bill highlights, though, is a worrying response to these attacks. Instead of fighting back, we now seem to be in a place of retreat. While gay liberation once talked about sexual liberation, that language hardly exists anymore. Instead our focus has turned to ‘love’. Our core fight is no longer about the freedom to have sex, but the freedom to love.

While this may seem subtle, it is extremely important. As we’ve stopped embracing sex, we’re also giving up on the free sex ideals. I often see gay people attacking those who are ‘promiscuous’, or calling for the closure of sex-on-premises venues because they ‘look bad’ for our community. Many others have backed calls that the acceptance of the institution of marriage means giving up on the ideals of sexual liberation. We’ve not just retreated on sex, we’ve become the conservatives.

In many ways, this explains the relative silence over the Queensland age-of-consent laws. This bill simply didn’t fit within our ‘love’ narrative, one which has become far more palatable for both the general public and, more importantly, the gay community.

This is really worrying. First, and most obviously, it’s because when it comes to sexuality, sex is the key thing that defines us. While we talk about the right to ‘love who we want’, this is not a universal experience. Many of us exist within the community without being in love. It is the way we have sex and who we have sex with that defines our sexuality.

It is for this reason that sex has often been a point of attack for conservatives. It was laws against sodomy that criminalised homosexuality, not laws against love. It is talk of our sex lives that often constitute the strongest attacks on our life. Given this, it’s really important to talk about sex – not only because it’s great fun – but because talking positively about sex is the best way to counteract these attacks and create a positive sexual culture. Embracing our sex lives, whether monogamous or promiscuous, vanilla or kinky, is essential to reducing fear and stigmatisation, and to ensure we can all enjoy it as much as physically and emotionally possible.

It is particularly important for us to talk about young people having sex. The simple fact is: young queer people have sex. And most of them thoroughly enjoy it (I know I did when I was young). That is not something we should be fearful of, but something we should celebrate. It is something we should talk about openly, in order to ensure young people are having positive and safe experiences with sex — helping them create healthy, exciting and fun sex lives. Sex is important, and we should not shy away from that fact.

Over the years, sex has become a difficult topic for the queer community. It has been a constant focus of attack. This has gotten to the point where we can hardly even celebrate a big advance in gay rights, largely for fears of how it will be perceived.

We cannot however continue allow our sex lives to be defined by the conservatives who attack us. Healthy discussion about sex, including talking about young people’s sex lives, is essential to creating healthy sexual behaviours and cultures. Sex in many ways defines us as a community. We must embrace that rather than fear it.

This article was originally published on SBS News. Click here to view the original. © All rights reserved.

Recently a new by-law for roller derby threatened to exclude trans*, genderqueer and non-binary team members, the community rallied to have the law reversed, and won.

Originally published in SBS Sexuality, 16 September 2016

Since its resurrection in the early noughties, roller derby has become known as one of the world’s most inclusive sports; primarily for women, but also for those who do not sit within the gender binary. In the last couple of weeks that inclusivity within Australian derby has come under threat. How the community dealt with it can teach us much about how to make sport a more inclusive space for all.

Roller derby, a full-contact sport on skates, was reinvigorated in the early 2000s in Austin, Texas, and since then has become one of the fastest growing sports worldwide. Essential to this growth has been an early ethos of derby as being a community-run, female-focused sport. Developed by women, derby flipped the standard sport binary that assumes men are stronger and women are weaker.

Jessica Rabid, the president of the Varsity Derby League based in Canberra, explores some of this mentality, saying: “One of the things about derby is that every body type has an advantage. In my case, I am six-foot-two and fat, but that means I take up a lot of space and have a lot of inertia behind me. But if someone is tiny and skinny then they can fit through a gap I can’t even fit my hand through. There’s an advantage to everything.”

Over time, this mentality has expanded to incorporate those who do not sit within the man/woman gender binary. Often isolated from other community sports, trans*, genderqueer, bi-gender and other gender non-conforming people began to find a safe space within derby. This push was led by the skating community, which was increasingly crossing over with the broader queer community. In turn, this became reflected by the official organisations of the sport. Roller derby is largely regulated by two global organisations: the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association (WFTDA) and the Men’s Roller Derby Association (MRDA). After years of work, both of these organisations have developed extremely inclusive gender policies (see WFTDA’s here, and MRDA’s here), with both allowing skaters to participate based solely on the self-definition of their gender.

Zephyr – a.k.a Princess Twinkletoes – identifies as ‘bi-gender’ and skates for The Victorian Vanguard, the Victorian men’s team. Zephyr identifies as ‘bi-gender’ and for them, being able to self-define gender is really important. The sport is not just inclusive but encourages people who are gender-non-conforming to form and build their identities within the sport. As Zephyr explains: “It’s a sport that’s both challenging and exciting but also inclusive and safe. It’s a place that you can be yourself, but also you get to push yourself as well.”

Recently, however, this inclusivity in Australia came under serious threat. While Australian teams are regulated by WFTDA and MRDA, the vast majority receive their insurance by an organisation called Skate Victoria. Over time, Skate Victoria has noticed a growth in mixed, or co-ed derby. Last week they released a new ‘by-law’ regarding insurance coverage for mixed-derby teams and competitions.

The new by-law presented significant changes to mixed competitions, with new rules that stated that organisers were required to provide separate change areas for male/females; that no single team could have a ratio of more 50% males on their team; that teams could not play more than two male members per jam during co-ed play; and that teams could not play a male Pivot/Jammer combo in any co-ed jam (the two most prominent positions on a track).

The by-law, introduced literally overnight, immediately caused a stir. The criticism came down to two things. First, the new rules required people to identify as either male or female in order to compete, when increasing numbers of skaters do not identify in this way. And second, the policy assumed that men are inherently better and stronger, and that therefore they are more likely to cause injuries and so their participation must be limited.

Both of these assumptions are directly contradictory to the values of the sport.

Jessica Rabid describes the shock that ran through the community, saying: “We were shocked, because we had not been consulted or warned at all that such change was in the works. We were also quite upset at how they had taken away what we had thought to be a safe space of mixed derby for people who were intersex, gender-fluid or otherwise didn’t feel they fit into a box of male or female.”

Zephyr echoed the sentiment, adding: “[The new policies] didn’t seem to fit with [what] roller derby is. It was twofold; On one hand it was saying that if you are part of this gender you can only have certain numbers on the track, and on the other side of the coin they just erased the identity of non-binary players. They pulled the rug from under me in terms that I didn’t exist for them, [because I don’t] comply with how the insurance companies recognise gender.”

Within moments of the new by-law being released, players and leagues across the country mobilised in opposition. This included intense discussion on various derby social media pages, but more importantly, involved individual players and leagues calling and writing letters to Skate Victoria to oppose the policy. Leagues then shared the responses they were receiving in order to formulate new responses and strategies in turn. This began to culminate as leagues worked together to draft a joint letter in opposition to the new rule.

Skate Victoria heard the criticism loud and clear, responding just as swiftly. They quickly began working closely with members of the derby community and with their insurance company on the issue. Within days, the new by-law was rescinded, ensuring no gender restrictions for insurance requirements for mixed-gender derby.

For skaters and leagues alike, the move highlights the strength of the community and the commitment to inclusivity. Zephyr said that the quick response “strengthened” how they feel about roller derby, adding: “I am overwhelmed about the amount of support I received. It was mind blowing how many people were angry about the fact that it didn’t represent our derby.”

Jessica Rabid is also “very pleased with the outcome,” but notes that she’s “sorry it had to happen in the first place”. Still, she says that it’s “certainly made Skate Victoria more aware of issues that affect derby that may not affect other sports,” adding: “It’s also made them more aware of how tight-knit the community is, because we are all individual leagues but we are also a community.”

With the controversy over the Olympic Gold Medal winner Caster Semenya, the role of gender identity is increasingly being discussed in sport. Transphobia within sport is still rife, with the vast majority of queer and gender-non-conforming people still feeling isolated from most sporting communities. In reacting to this policy change, derby highlighted how a strong community that flips the standard gender assumptions about sport on its head can create and maintain a culture that works for all.

This article was originally published on SBS News. Click here to view the original. © All rights reserved.

In reacting with anger and fear at every provocation we have made those provocations more powerful, allowing this ‘hate speech’ to filter through the community in ways it would not have if we just left it alone, writes Simon Copland.

Originally published in SBS Sexuality, 10 September 2016

One of the biggest fears for the proposed plebiscite on marriage equality is that it will give conservatives oxygen to spread their “hate speech”.

Sharyn Faulkner, from Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, has said that the plebiscite will be a “platform for hate”. ALP Senator Penny Wong agrees, stating: “I know that a plebiscite designed to deny me and many other Australians a marriage certificate will instead license hate speech to those who need little encouragement.” This hate, it is argued, will isolate and harm those who are most vulnerable in our community.

These concerns are genuine and real. Yet, at the same time, I wonder whether we are better off ignoring this ‘hate speech’, and in turn denying conservatives the oxygen they are so desperate for?

We have seen an emboldened radical backlash against the queer community over the past year, and it is having a real impact. The push for a plebiscite is an indication of the strength of conservatives within the Coalition Government, as is the recent attacks on Safe Schools. This is something we should be genuinely worried about, and prepared to fight against. 

Yet in recent months, it seems as though much of the queer community has become fully obsessed with ‘hate speech’, and in turn that we have lost focus on our agenda. With a plebiscite looming, every flier, media release or Facebook post by a social conservative is being spread through social media and the news like wildfire. We seem to feel the need to respond to every attack, no matter how big or small, giving each instance significant levels of coverage.

There are some good reasons for this; queerphobic attacks can always have an impact, and ignoring them can amount to giving them permission to occur. If we ignore queerphobia we are ignoring those who suffer from it in silence. However, I increasingly think that by focusing so much on the attacks of minority right-wing groups we are giving them too much space, and in turn, taking away space to talk about the issues that matter.

The reality is that while social conservatives such as Cory Bernadi are feeling emboldened within the Government, their base within the broader community is very weak. Polling has consistently shown that the vast majority of people support same-sex marriage, something that is not going to change any time soon. The same is true for Safe Schools. While queerphobia clearly still exists, the hate speech we are concerned about has much less resonance within our community than it used to.

In focusing so heavily on these attacks therefore I think we’ve ended up falling for the trap the right has set for us. In constantly emphasising their opinions we’ve given them exactly what they want — a significantly stronger voice in the community than they deserve. In reacting with anger and fear at every provocation, we have made those provocations more powerful, allowing hate speech to filter through the community in ways it would not have if we just left it alone. If we just ignored many of these attacks there’s a good chance they’d stay where they belong — in the dark corners of the Internet to be read only by a few fanatic conservatives and no one else.

There is an alternative to this approach. Yes, of course we must react against queerphobic attacks, especially those that come from within the Government. We must also make demands of the plebiscite, primarily that public funding is not provided to either side of the debate. In a time of heated discourse we should protect young queer people as best we can.

But the best way to do this is not necessarily to spread every instance of ‘hate speech’ as a reason why we should not have a plebiscite. Instead, we must look to the ways in which we can use this political situation to redirect the conversation. While we fear the space a plebiscite will create for the right to spread their ‘hate speech’, it will also give the queer community significant oxygen as well.

The old saying goes that the best defence is a strong offence. The plebiscite gives us an opportunity to go on the offence, putting queer issues on a national stage like never before. Instead of talking about hate speech we could talk about the vast array of issues important to our community — from same-sex marriage, to queer mental health, homelessness and poverty, religious exemptions in discrimination legislation, safe schools, and discrimination in the workplace, schools and sporting organisations, among many others.

More importantly than this, this debate gives us the chance to create stronger networks to build the power of our community. With a national focus on queer issues, we can work to make allies with queer and straight folks alike, ensuring that every queer kid has people around them for support when the attacks come. Through reducing the vulnerability of queer kids, this positive approach would stop the impact of right-wing attacks before the fliers and media releases are even written. 

In focusing on ‘hate speech’ we are engaging in a debate framed solely in conservative terms. Instead of making this debate about our issues we are making it about conservatives, giving them significant oxygen that they simply do not deserve. We must fight, but often the best way to fight is to ignore, divert, and to go on the offence. That is what this time calls for. 

This article was originally published on SBS News. Click here to view the original. © All rights reserved.

There’s evidence that D.H. Lawrence enjoyed an erotic power exchange relationship with his wife, that James Joyce was into scat (among other things), and that Oscar Wilde—well, most of us know what Oscar Wilde liked. These literary geniuses explored radical sexual agency and desire in their work and in their relationships, but little beyond rumors and personal letters exist to tell us what they themselves thought of their turn-ons and the ways in which those dovetailed with their writing. Even if space for such a discourse and community had existed back then, Lawrence, Joyce and Wilde couldn’t freely discuss their sexuality. As it was, they faced censorship and generated scandal wherever they went, and of course Wilde went to prison for his sexual behavior.

Although our world is still intolerant of sexual difference, I want to believe we’re at a point where people can speak openly about the consensual ways we express our erotic selves. And I’m interested in the connections between those private expressions and the larger, more public work we do in the world. This series is meant as a forging of community; a validation of that which gets called sexual deviance; and a proud celebration of the complex, fascinating ways that humans experience desire.

In this ongoing series of short personal essays, writers in all genres—novelists, poets, journalists, and more—explore the intersection between our literary lives and practices and our BDSM and fetishistic lives and practices. In other words, these essays aren’t about writing about non-normative sex: rather, it’s a series about how looking at the world through the lens of an alternative sexual orientation influences the modes and strategies with which one approaches one’s creative work.

If you have questions or comments, or if you’re a writer who would like to contribute, please contact me at kinkwriting@gmail.com.

–Arielle Greenberg, Series Editor

***

Anxiety, Control, and Escape

I am, and always have been, a really anxious person.

My mum used to call me a “worrier,” a trait that has been passed down through generations. As a kid I’d worry about anything from the next speech I had to give at school to the very nature of my future. As a teenager I’d get melancholy, spending nights in bed wondering where my childhood has gone.

As I’ve grown, that worrying has at times become more serious. In my early adulthood I was diagnosed with depression, with that occasional sense of melancholy coming to dominate my entire outlook. That sadness is now long gone, but I still often wake with an inexplicable pit in my stomach, a debilitating sense of fear I cannot put my finger on.

I get anxious about everything—that I’m working too much, that I’m working too little, that I’m not relaxing enough, that I’m not successful enough, that I’m not spending enough time reading, or watching movies, or exercising, that I’m not a good boyfriend, that I’m not having enough sex, that I have too much sex. The list goes on, often in contradictory ways. Sometimes this feeling stretches into days or weeks.

Read the full article here.

The ideology of Wikileaks is that knowledge is power, and transparency is required in order to create a good society. However, this ignores that sometimes secrets are essentials to ensuring people can live safely and comfortably in a dangerous world, writes Simon Copland.

Originally published in SBS Sexuality, 25 August 2016

The irony is staggering.

For the past four years, Julian Assange has been hauled up in the Equadorian embassy, in an attempt to protect himself from the threats of the American State. Assange has taken away his own liberty with genuine fears for his own life. Now, it’s been revealed that Assange and his Wikileaks team have opened up numerous people to potentially greater, and more immediate, threats than he has ever likely faced.

Yesterday an investigation revealed that over the past year, Wikileaks have published the personal data of hundreds of people, including the details of sick children, rape victims and people with mental health problems. These data dumps also included the name of a Saudi citizen arrested for being gay — opening this person up to significant threats in a state where homosexuality is still punishable by death. Other data includes the details of people living with HIV, and the identity of domestic workers who have been either tortured or sexually abused by their employers.

And why?

That is the million dollar question. The “radical transparency” group Wikileaks prides itself on exposing the secrets of those in power. Wikileaks rose to fame when it released thousands of classified military documents leaked to it by Chelsea Manning, exposing horrendous abuse at the hands of the U.S. state.

But what value is there in leaking people’s personal medical histories, including those of gay men who could face severe retribution because of the action?

Maybe the answer is a simple desire for Assange, and his comrades at Wikileaks, to stay in the news. To create something controversial or to generate headlines. This is the literal invasion of people’s privacy to boost a massive ego.

But I think this goes deeper than this. This is a problem with the ideology of Wikileaks, or really the lack thereof.

Wikileaks likes to frame itself as a progressive saviour. Julian Assange rants and raves about how the United States is, in effect, a large conspiracy and that the only way to break down the conspiracy is stop its ability to conspire behind closed doors. Wikileaks tells the age-old story that knowledge is power, and that if we just have greater knowledge of what our leaders are doing then we will be able to challenge their power. In doing so, it has exposed some important things — in particular the Iraq and Afghanistan files. This is information the world deserved to know.

But this is not enough. Information without purpose is not enough. Transparency does not create a good society, nor a good government. In fact, many Governments have been extremely effective in the past in being very open about their authoritarian behaviours — just look at the campaigns against LGBTQIA+ people that are raging across parts of the world at the moment.

On the flipside, good society is not created by getting rid of all secrets. In fact, as most people in minority groups will tell you, secrets are sometimes essential to ensuring people can live safely and comfortably in what is often a dangerous world.

This is what Wikileaks clearly do not understand. The revelation of these data leaks however is the obvious end-game of the lack of ideology behind their project. If all information is good, then surely the logical conclusion is that releasing people’s medical records cannot be bad? Surely publicly outing people, putting them at risk of criminal punishment and worse, cannot be bad? This is just part of bringing down the conspiracies that are keeping those in power, no?

Well no, this information is not good. It is not helpful. This information is not needed in our society and it is not right to release it. In doing so, Wikileaks have not just put people at risk, they have also highlighted the massive void in their own ideology. This investigation has highlighted how Wikileaks is unable to comprehend the risks people who are gay, or have HIV, or have been raped and sexually abused, face in their every day life.

The fact that Wikileaks don’t understand that shows something very serious. It is not, nor never has been, our progressive saviour. Nor will it ever be. More information simply is not enough.

Putting people’s lives at risk for the sake of ‘transparency’. Well done guys. *slow clap*

This article was originally published on SBS News. Click here to view the original. © All rights reserved.

A new program on the ABC uses questions from the public to put a human face on the day-to-day reality of minority groups in Australia

Originally published in The Guardian Australia, 1 August 2016

For me the questions started when I came out as gay at age 16.

How do you know? When did you find out? Are you sure it’s not a phase?

The questions got even more intense when I entered into a polyamorous relationship 10 years later:

How does it work? What are the sleeping arrangements? Do you have lots of threesomes? How can you really love two people at once?

If you’re in a minority in Australia – gay, transgender, polyamorous, Muslim, disabled, fat, etc – answering these sorts of questions becomes a part of life that many of us dread. Which is why, when I first heard of the ABC’s new program You Can’t Ask That, I was extremely sceptical.

The premise of the show is simple. In each episode, members of minority communities sit in front of a camera and answer questions which have been submitted by the anonymous public. The episodes are themed: polyamorous people, fat people, Muslims, criminals – you get the idea. The questions do not hold back: “Why are you so fat?” for fat people. “Is dwarf tossing OK?” for the short-statured. “Can you shower yourself?” for those in a wheelchair.

To me the whole premise seemed, frankly, insulting. I was indignant at the idea of minority groups being forced to get up in front of national audience and explain themselves. Why does the onus for understanding fall on us, rather than those who don’t, or don’t want to, know about our lives? Why should we have to explain ourselves anyway?

It felt like You Can’t Ask That was asking those from minorities to justify our existence. But as I watched, I began to change my tune.

At the most basic level, the show won me over because it’s been done extremely well. It would have been easy to make this all about the sordid details – a scandalous exposé of the lives of the local freaks, if you like. But it’s not been made like that. Yes, there are questions about sex, drugs and crime – some that could be considered extremely insulting. But the show doesn’t treat those issues as scandalous but rather just as a normal part of people’s lives.

It ends up being extremely genuine and heartfelt: real people, sitting with friends, families or lovers, having real conversations about the realities of their lives.

From these conversations, we can actually learn a lot.

You Can’t Ask That could have easily glossed over the ethical problems of its own premise but it tackles them head on. In the episode on wheelchair users, for example, one interviewee says, “I just wish people wouldn’t want to know so badly why I’m in a wheelchair all the time. It’s not offensive, it’s just boring. I don’t want to be bored anymore.”

Interviewees laugh at the stupidity of the questions, roll their eyes at how often they are asked, and muse on the tough situations they find themselves in because of their social or physical positions. Regularly, they talk about how much they wish people would look beyond their minority status to see the person underneath.

The show offers real insight into the realities of being in a minority in Australia; it shows how even those of us with the best intentions can end up treating people poorly. It puts a human face to those who are often spoken about in the abstract, which is also extremely valuable.

But most importantly, the conversations themselves have the potential to offer us insight into our own lives as well – whether as a minority or not. Listening to other people talk about their lives can help us reflect on our own; whether it is the basic things we take for granted or the social norms we’ve signed up to without critically thinking about them. It gives us the opportunity to question what we value and how we define a “good life”. “Would you be taller?” some are asked. “Would you be skinnier?”

Surprisingly, the most common answer is “no”.

In the ideal world a show like You Can’t Ask That wouldn’t exist. But in the world we live in, there’s a lot we can learn, not just about people in minority groups but from them too.

• You Can’t Ask That airs at 9.20pm on Wednesdays on the ABC

• Are these questions that should be asked and answered, or does it go too far? Let us know your thoughts below.

The fight against the spread of HIV has a new weapon – PrEP, a drug program that prevents transmission.

The article was originally published in The Saturday Paper, 18 July 2016. 

This week, researchers at the Kirby Institute from the University of New South Wales, the Peter Doherty Institute for Infection and Immunity, and the Australian Federation of AIDS Organisations made headlines with their announcement of the “end of AIDS” as a public health issue in Australia. While this is very welcome news, the prevalence of the infection that leads to AIDS – HIV – remains a significant concern. Fortunately, a breakthrough treatment that could halt its spread, and ease tension in the community over stigma associated with HIV, is becoming available.

Ted Cook, of PASH.tm, a sexual health network for trans men, is one of a growing number of Australians receiving the benefits of the new weapon in the fight against HIV – pre-exposure prophylaxis, or PrEP. “PrEP has completely removed any and all anxiety I had about sex,” he says. “I feel that I’ve been liberated from a fear I didn’t realise was even there until it was removed.”

Read the full article here.

As I teen I grew up with The Secret Life of Us. It was the first real representation of gay characters I saw on TV. 

This article was initially published in Junkee.com as part of their celebrations for Australian TV Week. 

Growing up as a gay teenager I spent a lot of time searching for some way of seeing myself in the world. I used to sneak onto my family’s computer to search for gay chat rooms on MSN Messenger. After school I’d go to the two different newsagents in the mall, occasionally getting up the courage to pick up one of the gay magazines and have a look. But it was often in TV where I went searching for opportunities to see myself.

Every Monday night I hoped my family would go to bed early so I could watch the US version of Queer as Folk. I’d sit nervously in the living room, holding on to the remote so I could change the channel whenever I heard someone stir. Apart from these occasional ‘gay shows’ though, representation of gay characters were few and far between. That was until 2001 when The Secret Life of Us premiered.

The Secret Life of Us is the first mainstream — i.e. not ‘gay and lesbian’ — show I can remember including main gay characters. At the start of the show we’re introduced to Simon. Simon, at a glance, appeared as your sort of stereotypical ‘bit part’ gay character. He’s a bartender who pops up every so often to provide wisdom for the rest of the cast. But then the twist. Half-way through the first season, one of the main characters, Richie, who has been struggling with his girlfriend Miranda, has sex with Simon. Soon enough Richie’s entire life is thrown into turmoil — questioning his sexuality, and by seasons two and three, finding his way in the gay community.

–

The Gay Representation Revolution

Representation of gay, lesbian, bisexual, trans and other queer characters has gone through a revolution in the past couple of decades, with many agreeing it was pioneered in the mainstream by Ellen. As a show, Ellen is considered so important that there is now a prominent website titled After Ellen, charting gay representation following the show’s lead. Ellen was followed by a number of hits in the late ‘90s and early noughties. Will and Grace began on NBC in 1998. The UK and US series, Queer as Folk, provided relatively realistic portrayals of young gay life from 1999 and 2000 respectively. In 2003, Bravo released the gay makeover show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Gays and lesbians were finally being moved from being bit characters to receiving mainstream roles.

This wasn’t all as great as it sounds. Gay representation has historically followed one of two tropes — comedy and tragedy – and these shows were no exception. Characters in the mainstream like Will and Grace or Queer Eye tend to be there just for comedic relief. They’re presented as extremely stereotypical and very rarely actually deal with many serious issues. If not there for laughs, gay characters seemed to always face some sort of tragedy. This second trope has a long history with queer life being presented as a lifestyle that will always result in some form of tragedy, no matter what the circumstances. Early lesbian representation on TV was limited to “killers, tramps, thieves and therapists.”

These tropes are still relevant today. While gay men are much less likely to face tragic endings these days, this is not the case for lesbian characters, who seem to be killed off as quickly as they appear on TV. At the other end, two of the most prominent gay characters of recent times, Cam and Mitchell from Modern Family, are the perfect examples of stereotypical gay characters. As a couple, Cam and Mitchell virtually hate each other, with critics noting the show regularly “bury[s] any possibility of two men displaying any sexual desire for each other”.

In many ways Australia is seen as a leader in gay representation, with the TV series Prisoner and Number 96 both featuring gay characters in the 1970s and ‘80s. Yet, apart from these two early leaders it was noted that while gay representation was developing globally in the 1990s, Australia was largely left behind. There was little diversity to be found on our TV screens.

This is why I’ve realised The Secret Life of Us was so important. The gay story arc didn’t just give us tokenistic representation of gay characters: it gave us a real people to relate to.

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The Secret Life Of Us And Accurate Portrayals Of Queer People

As a character discovering his sexuality, Richie goes through a range of the issues many queer people face. He battles through confusion and anxiety as he contends with the disappointment about his sexuality from the people he loves. This process of discovery continues once he officially comes out too. I remember a scene in which Richie has sex in a public toilet ‘beat’ at one of Melbourne’s beaches.

He then starts heading out to clubs and exploring different parts of the gay community. He deals with personal insecurities and negotiates the often complex gay sex scene. In another scene, I remember him returning from a sex club and explaining to one of his straight mates what a glory hole is (if you don’t know you should look it up, but probably not while you’re at work).

This was even more important when considering The Secret Life of Us was in prime time. I could watch a show that dealt with actual gay issues with my entire family. It foretold some of the very issues I’d face when I came out — the difficulties of having to explain to people about my sexuality and the anxieties I would face when going to gay venues. Perhaps most importantly, it spoke about and dealt with gay sex — something that is so rare, even today.

While I’m hesitant to argue that it was a leader in the pack, that was definitely how it felt to me. Despite the continuance of the standard gay tropes in much of our TV, this charge of accurate representation is now truly being felt. Though it could still be significantly better, we now have well-rounded representations of LGBT characters in many shows — True Blood, Sens8, Orange Is The New Black and Grace and Frankie among others. Grace and Frankie and Transparent dive into what it’s like to come out in old age. Orange Is The New Black tells stories of life as a queer prisoner. This is not just limited to these shows. In researching this piece I asked friends and colleagues for examples of queer representation on TV. I was absolutely flooded with examples, ones never even contemplated.

We can see this representation finally hitting Australian TV shows as well. New TV shows such as Please Like Me, The Family Law, Offspring, Wentworth and even Neighbours are introducing queer characters in a range of different and realistic, circumstances. Australia seems finally to be catching up with the rest of the world, and The Secret Life of Us has played an important role in that development.

Queer representation is important, but that representation is not actually valuable until it presents queer people in a realistic way. As the first mainstream show I can remember that actually did this, The Secret Life of Us will always have a special place in my heart.
Read more at http://junkee.com/why-the-secret-life-of-us-meant-so-much-to-a-generation-of-lgbt-australians/81298#AvvcTwEkDFT8ZJFC.99

The Australian Federal Election is happening this weekend. It’s time to get out, enjoy your democracy sausage, and decide who you want to be in power for the next three years.

Here is your brief guide on where the major parties stand on the big issues facing LGBT+ people.

Originally published in SBS Sexuality, 28 June, 2016

The Two Big Issues

The last term of Government has been dominated by debate on two big issues: marriage equality and the Safe Schools program.

On same-sex marriage, the big parties are clearly split. The Coalition has promised a marriage plebiscite, which will occur within 100 days of the election. This plebiscite would not be legally binding, with legislation still needing to pass Parliament following the vote. Malcolm Turnbull confirmed earlier this week that when this legislation appears Coalition MPs will not be bound by the result of the plebiscite, instead having a ‘conscience vote’ on the issue. 

Meanwhile, the ALP and Greens oppose the plebiscite, arguing that Parliament should legislate for marriage equality as soon as possible. Opposition Leader Bill Shorten has promised a Parliamentary vote within 100 days, meaning that marriage equality will be high on the agenda directly following the election, regardless of the outcome.

Check out our interactive map of federal parliament showing which Australian federal parliamentarians oppose or support marriage equality here.

Safe Schools has become a big issue in recent months following a concerted attack against the program from conservative forces. Initially funded nationally by the previous Labor Government, this year the Coalitionannounced significant changes to the program. These changes included restricting the program to high school students and requiring parent permission for students to participate. Both the ALP and Greens oppose these moves; the ALP promises to continue to support the program and the Greens have proposed an increase in national funding from $2 million to $8 million annually.

While the differing positions on these issues are clear, beyond this things get a little blurrier. The parties not only diverge on their views on LGBTQIA+ issues but also on what they’re even talking about. 

The Coalition

A search through the Coalition’s ‘election plan’ and their website shows no references to LGBTQIA+ issues or people. The Coalition has, however, responded to theRainbow Votes Survey on LGBT+ issues — a survey developed by a collective of LGBT+ groups in an attempt to understand the different policies of the major parties in the lead up to the election.

In their response, the Coalition makes a commitment to “ensuring that rights of LGBTI people are protected and that they can live free from discrimination.” Their response survey includes commitments to implementing the national HIV and LGBTI Ageing and Aged Care strategies, and to continue funding of LGBTIQ health services MindOUT! and QWire.

On gender identity, however, the Coalition stated they had “no plans to amend the PBS availability of testosterone where the use is medically indicated,” nor plans “to change the 2013 Australian Government Guidelines for the Recognition of Sex and Gender.” These are issues that have both been of significant contention for trans* and intersex individuals who still face extreme costs and difficulties in receiving medical access.

According to survey makers, the Coalition also failed to provide adequate responses or commitments in a number of areas, including on LGBT+ representation, the development of specific LGBT+ data and research to guide policy, and on specific policies covering LGBT+ health, ageing and youth. 

The ALP

The ALP has centred its election campaign around its ‘100 positive policies’. Within these 100 policies there are three that relate specifically to LGBTQIA+ people. Two of these are regarding marriage equality; getting rid of the plebisciteand legislating for marriage equality within 100 days of office. In addition to this, the ALP have promised that if elected they will “appoint a permanent, dedicated full-time LGBTI Discrimination Commissioner.” Labor describes this as a “new champion for LGBTI rights” and while short on detail, it would likely be based on the Gender and Sexuality Commissioner that was recently appointed by the Labor Government in Victoria.

The ALP also has a comprehensive National Platform, which includes numerous policies for LGBT+ people. Some notable points from the national platforms includes statements that: “cost should not be a barrier” for people accessing gender affirmation surgery, intersex people should be “able to exercise autonomy regarding sex/gender markers” and that LGBT+ refugees and asylum seekers will not be detained, processed or resettled in countries which criminalise homosexuality. The platform also commits to supporting the provision of Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis (PrEP) in order to reduce HIV transmissions.

Like the Coalition, the ALP also completed the Rainbow Votes Survey on LGBT+ issues, receiving high marks in areas such as relationship recognition, equality and non discrimination, but struggled in some areas of LGBT+ engagement and representation, and LGBT+ health and ageing. 

The Greens

The Greens commitments for LGBTIQIA+ people are centred around their ‘plan for inclusive communities’.

The centrepiece of this plan is a commitment of $8.7 millionfor the provision of PrEP (a HIV prevention method) over the next two years. This includes $7.2 million to support the personal importation of the drug for 3,000 people over two years, covering patients until the drug is subsidised under the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme. On top of this, the party has also committed $1.5 million “for administration and support for community organisations to assist clients with the personal importation of the drug.”

The Greens election plan also has a number of other commitments, including: abolishing exemptions for religious organisations from our anti-discrimination legislation, removing bureaucratic processes for young transgender and gender diverse people who want to access hormone treatment, ending offshore detention for asylum seekers (including LGBT+ people), and ensuring the rights of intersex people to bodily integrity, including deferring any medical intervention for children until the child is able to give full and informed consent.

The Greens also filled out the Rainbow Votes Survey, receiving the highest relative marks of the three big parties. The survey, however, noted some areas missing from the Greens policy, particularly in relation to LGBT+ people, faith and culture. 

Now Go and Vote

This snapshot covers what has been publicly announced, what sits on party websites, and survey responses. If you want to understand more make sure you check out theRainbow Votes Survey, where you can get a lot more information. Hopefully this leaves you feeling a little more confident about where the parties stand on LGBTQIA+ rights this year.

This article was originally published on SBS News. Click here to view the original. © All rights reserved.

Guy Rundle’s take on identity politics is the queerest part of the Safe Schools debate.

Originally published in Overland Journal, 14 June 2016. Written in conjunction with Benjamin Riley. 

In recent weeks, the debate over the Safe Schools Coalition anti-bullying program has intensified, taking what is in many ways a bizarre turn. The brief suspension of program architect Roz Ward from her position at La Trobe University has reopened the debate about whether Safe Schools is ‘cultural Marxism’ by stealth, the program once again coming under fire from conservatives across the country. Even trans advocate andmember of the ADF Catherine McGregor has weighed in.

One of the more interesting elements of this, however, has been the debate it has created about the role gender and sexual politics can and should play within Marxism. Here enters Guy Rundle. In the pages of Crikey, Rundle penned a treatise on the program and what he considers the failures of ‘queer theory’. Rundle believes Safe Schools (via queer theory) presents the view that ‘gender and sexuality are infinitely fluid’. He argues, however, that such a view denies the material realities of sexuality and gender, not to mention his view that ‘almost no-one really believes it – and they certainly do not let it shape their lives’.

Queer theory, he says, aims to push adolescents towards particular identities they wouldn’t arrive at by themselves. He states:

Most adolescents are on their way to plain old vanilla heterosexuality, with a few detours along the way. The queer identity approach would seek to solidify those detours and experimentations and explorations into queer identities.

This, he argues, is a clear diversion from the materialist principles of Marxist theory – a cultural turn that is not only a distraction, but a dangerous one at that.

But Rundle fundamentally misunderstands the nature of queer theory, in part confusing it with identity politics. That confusion leads him to disallow any relationship between queer theory and Marxism, and the real power such connections could create.

Rundle’s argument is part of a growing trend of left-wing commentators engaging with the inherent conservatism of ‘liberal’ approaches to identity – notably, LGBTI politics and feminism. This is a critique broadly shared by both of this article’s authors. But Rundle takes this further, disavowing an association between Marxism and ‘the queer, intersectional politics that Ward professes’. We’ll get back to that point in particular, but first we need to pull back a bit and look at the current state of LGBTI politics to see how – and perhaps why – Rundle has confused two very different ways of thinking about sexuality and gender.

Identity politics usually refers to a philosophy and practise of building political movements around identities based on race, gender, sexuality, sex, age – the list goes on. There is an implied essentialism to identity politics: you become defined by what you are, rather than what you do. Intersectionality, the idea that a person can ‘be’ many things at once (gay, trans, living with a disability, etc.), is sometimes used to rebut accusations of essentialism, but we would argue intersectionality is in fact identity politics par excellence. Far from freeing us of the shackles of identity, intersectionality simply gives us a more complex matrix to slot ourselves into. We still are; we are simply many things instead of one.

The past decade has seen a return to identity politics as the dominant way of thinking about sexuality and gender in public discourse. And we have been here before – in fact, when queer theory emerged in the early 1990s (though its roots go back further), it was explicitly in opposition to the essentialism of identity politics, which had come to dominate minority political movements.

While often confused with identity politics (as Rundle has done), queer theory functions in almost the opposite way. Instead of defining ourselves around essential ‘identities’, queer theory takes a post-structuralist approach, deconstructing those identities in and of themselves. Importantly, queer theory works to expose the construction of heterosexuality as a norm, or what some call ‘straight ideology’. This is the ideology in which we all live – one that defines not only our sexual lives, but our gender representations, and most importantly, the way we see ourselves as economic actors both in the workplace and the family.

The differences between these two theories  could not be more stark. Identity politics aims to differentiate identities and provide ‘equality’ between the experiences of them all. Queer theory aims to deconstruct the very idea of identity, and ‘straight ideology’ in particular.

So how have we ended up back at identity politics? And why are we all talking about ‘queer’ when these things used to mean something different, even opposite? The second question is a little easier to answer: as is inevitable, language changes over time, and the word ‘queer’ has decoupled from ‘queer theory’ to become an identity category of its own. It’s commonly used as a catch-all term for LGBTI identities, as a way of identifying with the politics associated with queer theory, or even just as a way of identifying outside mainstream LGBTI politics and identities.

The question of how we’ve ended up back here is trickier to answer, and requires some speculation. It is likely a hangover from the dominance of neoliberal thought in the 80s and 90s. These economic ideologies have promoted the idea of the ‘subject as consumer’, which fits hand-in-glove with the idea of an essential identity. Being reshaped as ‘identities’ allowed us to be viewed as markets: both consumers and a potential pool of labour.

This has been coupled with a return to a form of respectability politics following the AIDS crisis of the 1980s and 1990s. Campaigns for same-sex marriage in particular have required a level of assimilation into capitalist society. To access these institutions we had to find ways to fit within straight ideology. The best way to do this was through reinforcing clear identifiers (gay, lesbian, trans, etc.) that allowed us to maintain a small level of difference, but one that was not enough to block our entry into these institutions.

The result is this unusual situation in which we have identity politics dressed up as queer theory.

But back to Rundle. His assertion of ‘a view of sexuality and gender as “fluid”, in a way that most of us do not believe it really is’ seems to miss the whole point of queer theory. It isn’t saying we can simply choose whatever we want to ‘be’; it is saying that we actively constitute our sexuality and gender through how we are in the world, and that is also shaped by our context. It is not saying the material world has nothing to do with sexuality and gender. It’s not that gender and sexuality aren’t real – their cultural and social construction is so complete that we experience them as material. Male bodies, for example, do not contain some ‘essential’ maleness. Queer theory would argue the reverse, that the constructions of maleness in the world, at a given historical place and time, determines our view of particular bodies as ‘male’.

But many of Rundle’s broad criticisms of identity politics, and of the current state of political movements to advance the position of marginalised groups, are valid. These criticisms have been made before, in pieces like Eleanor Robertson’s excellent essay inMeanjin, and pretty much every time Helen Razer writes about queer issues or feminism.

So, we’re left with the claim that queer theory is not compatible with Marxism. In fact, we believe queer theory can play an integral role in the politics of Marxism. In his article Rundle states:

The question of actual ‘socialism’ – of mass control of the means of production – has become secondary. Among what has become known as ‘the cultural left’, the question is barely discussed. Existing work relations – the eight- to 10-hour day, the endless squeeze on wage power, conditions, the debt loading – are assumed to be a given, an eternal.

This we agree with, but it is not the fault of attempts to connect queer theory with Marxist politics. Our capitalist economies require divisions in gender and sexuality in order to survive. The early system was developed on a basis of the devaluation of women’s labour and a focus on reproduction. This allowed for ongoing population growth, ensuring a growing working class to power the capitalist society. Those whose experience of sexuality did not support this system, were forced into institutions and medical facilities due to the threat they posed to this agenda. The spread of non-normative sexualities was seen as a threat to a growing population, and therefore needed to be crushed before it spread. The oppression of women and queers played, and continues to play, an integral role in capitalist economics.

Importantly for this discussion, this process also required cultural mechanisms – the development of social and ideological norms – in order to work. This is the ‘straight ideology’ that queer theorists talk about. The ruling classes have worked tirelessly to shape our understandings and norms of gender and sexuality to fit the needs of the system – defining women as ‘chaste’, ‘pure’ and ‘motherly’, and shaping the queer as ‘deviant’ and ‘dangerous’, for example. The very creation of these identifiable markers has been for the benefit of capitalism.

The struggle for queer and gender liberation is therefore inherently linked with the struggle against capitalism. Queer theory, alongside Marxist feminism, has fundamentally helped us understand this.

But many of Rundle’s criticisms of the Safe Schools program, if we imagine they pertain to identity politics, are valid. Safe Schools is not perfect. It is not a radical social engineering program, and very few are claiming it is. Which is fine. It’s an anti-bullying program, and a good one. It’s a shame part of it is rooted in identity politics, that’s true, but as has often been pointed out, to critique the philosophical underpinnings of the program is to follow a red herring – those underpinnings are not the program itself. For what Safe Schools is, it is good.

While Rundle makes some good points, in particular, his critiques of identity politics as it relates to Safe Schools, those points are lost in the confusion between identity politics with queer theory. In many ways this is understandable – this confusion is played out on a much larger scale in the ways we use the language of queer theory to talk about identity politics, even though the two are diametrically opposed. While it’s not perfect, queer theory can offer a lot to Marxist economics. That is something we need to embrace.