Em Buckman is the award-winning author of Bent Is Not Broken (LGBTQIA+ history/memoir). She is currently working on a new novel, Women Of Note (historical fiction). In this guest blog, Em explains why she—a cis-het person—is an outspoken ally of our demonised, pathologised and criminalised community.
Now read on…

I was a teenage “fag hag”

That was the original working title of my book before it was published, but nowadays the term “fag hag” is very much frowned upon, so it had to be changed. This is completely understandable; the word “fag” is, after all, a derogatory term for a gay man, and “hag” isn’t exactly flattering either. But it was the label my gay friends gave me and I wore it with pride. In the 1980s, I found myself thrown into and thriving in London’s gay subculture. How on earth did this happen to a Grammar school girl, who grew up in a mediocre town and until then, had lived a mediocre life. It happened because I longed for a life less ordinary, and I found it with my gay friends. They were exotic, funny and different, and this combination was intoxicating. Being a fag hag was fun, exciting, and all-consuming, and I would do anything to please my friends. I’d let them dress me up, make me up, and parade me about as their muse.

On the cusp of the AIDS crisis

But in amongst all this fun, I learnt about the issues that my friends were facing. Most of them had been bullied; that just seemed par for the course. One was sent to a psychiatrist to be ‘cured’ by his well-meaning parents. Another was outed aged seventeen after his parents received a series of letters claiming that he was abusing little boys. This was rubbish, but when they confronted him about it, he felt he had to confess that he was gay. And another was kicked out of his home by his parents and came to live with me and my parents briefly. My mum was very accepting and loved having young gay men in the house as they were very sweet to her. My dad hated it. He went as far as saying that gay people should be rounded up, put on an island, and shot. These experiences meant that I learnt a lot about discrimination and about ignorance, and I saw what it did to my friends. I pretended to be Peter’s girlfriend so that he was shielded from the bullying, the questioning, the prejudice. This was at a time when it was illegal for gay young men to have sex, when Thatcher was in power and was bringing in Section 28, and when the AIDS crisis was on the cusp of emerging.

I lived through all that with my friends. And I have remained firm friends with many LGBT+ people all my life and have become an outspoken ally of the community. But does that give me the right to write about its history and culture? On discovering that I am straight, a few people justifiably harboured some reservations. In a Facebook group, when I was drafting the book and posting questions, one or two people went as far as saying it was damaging for LGBT+ people for me to insert myself into their narrative.

The A stands for “ally”

Not intending to be exclusionary, I choose to use LGBT+ rather than the longer acronym commonly found today, a preference I explain fully in Chapter 2 of Bent Is Not Broken. That said, LGBTQIA+ is important. In some definitions the A stands for “ally,” and I am that A with bells on. I aim to show that it’s possible for a straight woman to write with compassion and insight about a community I observe rather than inhabit, as someone who embraces difference and diversity and wants to be associated with LGBT+ people as an understanding and compassionate friend. I share my commitment to stand up and be counted. As far as I am concerned, I am part of the narrative.

In my lifetime, being gay has been demonised, pathologised and criminalised. I am full of awe and respect for people who go through so much just to be able to be themselves. I have my own personal experience of being different, of struggling to accept who I am; in some ways, my experiences mirror those of many LGBT+ people.

My writing is intended for everyone, as it explores themes of difference, resilience and accepting who we are, in which I include ideas and thoughts that are relevant and hopefully interesting to a wide audience, whatever your sexuality or gender. As with any community, LGBT+ people are not a homogenous group, and individuals may change over time. Also, gender and sexuality do not define us as people; we are so much more than who we are attracted to or our sex. I try to avoid sweeping statements and generalisations, and I wish to write nothing that causes offence, although I do hope to provoke a little discussion. Some of the brutally honest stories I share in my book are upsetting in places, but their owners wanted them told. To protect people who don’t want their identities known, all names in my book, including my own, have been changed.

Hate speech & crime

There’s very worrying and growing evidence that hate speech and hate crime against people who don’t fit the hetero-normative stereotype is on the rise. I’ve received hateful slurs myself while preparing to launch my book. An example: I was accused of encouraging men to dress up as women, go into women’s toilets and abuse children. Anyone who knows me will understand that this made me feel physically sick and that it massively triggered my anxiety. I wondered if I could go ahead and publish, knowing there might be more hatred to come. But then I realised that this is exactly why I had to go ahead and publish.

The need to stand up for people who are different from oneself is as strong as ever as we teeter on the precipice of potential regression, losing some of the rights afforded to people because of who they fancy or how they identify, a status which was so bravely fought for. I don’t claim to have answers to very much, and I pose at least as many questions as I ponder potential solutions. These are things that need to be said, and to be shared widely; my writing is my attempt to do just that. Some of the people I interviewed for my book commented afterwards how good it was to talk, to share their lives and experiences; it was self-affirming and liberating for them. If one person reads my words and learns something, or decides to find out more, or questions their own approach and attitude, or decides to talk to someone about their own story, then, well, wow.

Love is love

The American people have once again decided to place in charge a man whose leadership style is divide and conquer. He will actively pitch communities against one another, and LGBT+ people will inevitably be included as targets. He will encourage fighting, as he himself calls it.

Meanwhile he will live in his bubble of self-importance, surrounded by cronies who smile and clap as he performs. Many of us here in the UK are holding our breath in anticipation of what lies ahead. I worry for young people especially and as we brace ourselves for tough times. The threat is real: recent progress in legislation can be reversed and rights can be revoked.

Thankfully, there are some amazing campaigns and organisations campaigning relentlessly for fairness and equality. There are also little people like me, trying to do our bit. Sometimes I have to step away when the trolling becomes too much, but I’ll never waver from my commitment. For as long as I draw breath, I hope to spread one simple message: Love is love.
Always an ally.
Em xxx

 

Learn More

• Bent Is Not Broken
  Buy the eBook (various platforms) or get the paperback on Amazon via: books2read.com/BentIsNotBroken
• To read more about LGBTQIA+ culture and history, and to find out more about the author, head to her website
• Follow Em on Facebook and Instagram
• What does “cis-het” mean? Gender Identity vs. Sexual Orientation