Connecting
Queerstories, family and community
“I know it (community) is the lifeblood for the marginalised. Because queer family isn’t about the physical or the biological, it’s about that intangible something that we find in others when we have found ourselves”
Maeve Marsden — Queerstories, p.256
Family has always felt slightly weird to me. Family takes so many forms when you are queer. Many people have gay, lesbian, bi or trans brothers, sisters, parents, uncles etc but they are only one cog in a wider wheel. And while that applies to me I’m not in a ‘traditional’ family (whatever that even means anyway), I’m part of a much bigger family, some of whom are marginalised, many are not, but family they are — they have an intangible something and I’m learning to recognise that.
When I visited Australia in Feburary I picked up a copy of Queerstories. It is a book based on a community event that started in Sydney but has spread to other parts of Australia, an event which is about story telling. A space and platform for people to tell their queer stories, their lives as part of the LGBTQ community in Australia. I loved the book and I engaged with all the stories much more deeply than I thought I would. Each and every story had it’s own powerful qualities. For some it evoked memories of my own life growing up in Adelaide. Others helped me see Australia through queer eyes since 2000, the year I left for the UK, while some challenged me to think again, about my own preconceptions of what normal is. We all have preconceptions, beliefs and prejudices, whether we like to admit them or not. Even I, someone who acknowledged my own sexuality over twenty years ago, can still be trapped by heteronormative thinking and values. This book pushed me to think again, especially about family and what family is. My family is so much bigger than my mother, late father, brother, sister and wider relatives. It extends into different communities, different areas of life.
Queer weddings are a good example of different types of families and connections with marginalised people. I’ve been to a handful of queer weddings and the dynamic of the day is so different to hetrosexual weddings I have attended. All bar one of the straight weddings that I have been to in my life see three cliques or groups form. The family of the groom, the family of the bride and then the friends of the groom and bride. The friends are often mixed but can, at times, be seperate, depending on the couple. The queers though tend to have more complex family and friend relationships and at weddings it can be hard to work out who is who. And this can be a good thing, it can really break down stereotypes, preconceptions and make the whole atmosphere more conducive to sharing, friendships and a positive shared expereince.
My connections to the wider LGBTQ community are not as strong as they once were. I’ve never been a big fan of the scene, I’m not a fan of loud music, late nights and regular drinking — I’m too old for that now! As such I’m not a fan of clubs, bars or late night venues, generally speaking. Quieter, more sedate places are more my scene. And I don’t like crowds, especially unstructured crowds! Despite all this I’m starting to find small ways to re-engage as I get older. I’m starting to recognise the importance of supporting the LGBTQ community and family. We have a duty to do so as parts of the world seem hell bent on hatred and oppressing people who don’t fit a ‘norm’. This blog, my cricketing life and reflections more generally feel like a small part of that jigsaw. I hope they offer help and support to some in the queer family, wherever they might be.
I wonder if family will always be weird to me. Growing up gay perhaps this was inevitable? Whatever the case might be I know I need to continue to reach out, in my own small way, to others. Now that I’m as comfortable as I have ever been I can more easily find that intangible something in others, the something that goes beyond biology, that goes to the heart of being human.
