LGBT Month: Nowhere over the rainbow?

[dropcap]D[/dropcap]id you know that Warwick has an LGBT+ society? No? Don’t worry, neither do a lot of people. I first discovered Warwick’s alternative by perusing the society’s webpage.

I was looking for the normal ‘LGBT+’ society, but couldn’t find it – instead I found Warwick ‘Pride’. I thought this was a good sign. I needed somewhere to be proud. Somewhere to accept myself, where I could discuss my identity and the difficult process I’d gone through to accept it.

Four months before coming to university, I was in a relationship that can most aptly be described as “impractical”. This was not because he wasn’t charming or lovely, because he was all of those things – I just happened to be coming to terms with being gay.

I needed somewhere to be proud. Somewhere to accept myself

After experiencing first hand the nature of “Warwick Pride”, all I can say is that I’m very happy I managed to turbulently get through telling my mum and the friends that hadn’t already guessed, before coming to university. I was so ready to come out by the time that I did.

This was not only because I was lying to everyone and myself, but I knew I had the support system around me to help if I needed it. And there were definitely times when I needed it. But some people aren’t as lucky as me. They may not have come out yet and not have the same support system, or such understanding friends and they might not even be sure of how they feel themselves.

But some people aren’t as lucky as me

I’ve found that support system in several places. There are plenty of societies that are accepting, no matter how you define yourself or whether you define yourself at all. My friends are all accepting, and I get advice and care from many places. These are the kind of things that a Pride society should help with.

Yet I never saw any evidence of them helping people like me, people who wanted advice and answers. I crawled through the now-hazy fortnight that was fresher’s week, feeling for the first time like people believed me when I told them that I didn’t like men. At this time I heard about Pride’s “Welcome Buffet” at the societies fair and, encouraged by my supportive new friends, I attended the event.

These are the kind of things that a Pride society should help with

You would think that during this event one specific question would be asked. But as it turns out, Pride might be the only society on campus where it is awkward and even borderline inappropriate to mention anything to do with sexual or gender identity. Though questions about what course you take, where you’re from and where you live in campus are always welcome.

Despite this first encounter, I resolved to give it a second chance – after all, this social was a room, on the whole, full of people that didn’t know each other. So a friend and I began going to the weekly socials – a mistake, as it happens.

A friend and I began going to the weekly socials – a mistake, as it happens

It was at the end of the fourth social that I decided to terminate my relationship with Pride. After attempting to add a little humour into the stiflingly awkward atmosphere that was the social, one unfortunate soul was glared at and told not to be “so judgemental”. I can assure you, even looking back on it now, there was nothing “judgemental” about the joke.

I had already started to disengage with the society after it began to seem that even the exec members found the socials uncomfortable. This, along with rumours of rampant biphobia, was the final nail in the coffin for me. I began to hear rumours of biphobia and general dismissals of people that identified themselves as anything other than gay, lesbian or transgender quite early on.

This, along with rumours of rampant biphobia, was the final nail in the coffin for me

As someone who prides themselves on being in the LGBT community, this was obviously bad for me. As a lesbian that is currently dating a bisexual, I can assure Pride (and anyone else) that bisexuals are not “confused” or “greedy”. Whether they are dating someone of the same gender or not, they deserve an equal place at Warwick, as much as they deserve an equal place in the community at large.

I feel distinctly uneasy about potentially being part of a society where its members would value me wholly based on the fact that I was gay, more than an “indecisive” bisexual, the stereotypical reason behind such “phobia”. I feel extremely disappointed with a society that I believed I would be able to relate to.

I feel extremely disappointed with a society that I believed I would be able to relate to

I had not been exposed to issues regarding gender or sexual identity expressions at school or at home, so I naively expected some form of extra-curricular education. Or I at least expected the members of “Pride” to be “proud” of their identities. When I received confirmation of my offer to study at Warwick, I wondered about what societies I might be the most likely to join and I pondered hopefully over Warwick’s LGBT+ society. As it turns out, I wish I hadn’t bothered.