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  Traveller_23 12:08 am on March 8, 2014 Permalink  

  Coming Out to…the Little Brother 

  My Thoughts

  
  

  Growing up, I was always aware that my parents wanted me to respect certain Bangladeshi cultural boundaries. I had no interest in doing this, but I toed the party line nevertheless for fear of the consequences. Whenever I did do anything against their wishes, it was either done in a clandestine manner or accompanied by lots of cajoling and placating. My little brother, on the other hand, has always taken a different approach to the parents – pretending that he is completely unaware of their expectations, culturally or otherwise. This has let him go and do whatever he wants, and feign ignorance later to avoid the consequences.

  
  

  
  

  Given the directions I have seen him take socially, culturally and religiously – he's liberal, practical and agnostic – I've never really thought that he'd have a problem with my bisexuality. I'd wondered if he'd find the gay sex part of it a little icky, but nothing more than that. I believed he was a product of his time – educated enough via contemporary narrative to know that there is nothing wrong, morally or medically, with same-sex attractions. Additionally, his agnosticism assured me that he wouldn't espouse any Islamic prejudice. My concerns had actually always skewed towards the more circumstantial side of the situation. He still lives with my parents, and back when I told him, he was going to be doing so for another 2 years before leaving. He was and still is preparing for university, which is hard work. On top of this, he has major ideological differences with the parents, and this makes his living situation even more stressful. I didn't want to add to his burden by telling him about my bisexuality and the issues it brought up. And of course, there was the tiny, tiny worry of what would happen if he did end up reacting negatively. My brother is one of the closest people to me in the world, so even the slightest possibility of rejection made me doubt myself.
  
  

  However, I've become quite the expert at swallowing my doubts and ploughing on. During a winter holiday we were both spending with the best friend, I hinted at my desire to 'experiment' with a man in casual conversation. He's quite close to the best friend so I knew she could create a buffer if he reacted badly. His reaction was mostly bewilderment though, and I left it at that. The following summer holiday was when I next mentioned my bisexuality. I broached the subject of attractions with him while we were gaming in the den, but backtracked because of the concerns I voiced in the last paragraph. I told myself I was building him up to it, so I should see this as yet another small step in the right direction. But within a few hours I got annoyed at the dithering so I changed my mind, went into his room and told him. And that was it. There was a very minimal reaction. He said he wasn't surprised, that the hints had worked and he had no issue with it. The fact that the parents wouldn't take it too well was discussed. I informed him that I was slowly telling other friends and family at a pace comfortable to me, and hoped eventually to tell them too. He shrugged. I didn't mind - his support was always implied. Don't mistake his apparent apathy for an actual lack of empathy. He's probably the most pro-LGBTQ friend/family member I have created by the way of my coming out. I've discovered him challenging the prejudice of random people in various situations, more so than anyone else I've discussed my sexuality with. 

  
  

  My coming out has made us closer, and now I can include him in all the aspects of my life. That positive energy has more than anything offset any burden my 'secret' would have left on him, and I am immensely lucky to have someone like him in my life.

  
  

  His Thoughts

  
  When my brother came out to me, the situation was as follows: I was in my room sitting on my bed, reading or looking at something, I can’t really remember. My brother comes and says, without further ceremony, “The person I’m going to be dating this summer is a guy.”  I look up with a bland face and say “I see.” A moment’s pause. “So you’re bisexual then?” to which my brother responds with a simple “Yup.”

  
  

  I can’t imagine the scenario in any other way. I tend to take these emotional things with a degree of apathy that some might consider borderline offensive. It’s not malice, it’s just that sexuality to me has never been a big issue. To me, homosexual relationships aren’t wrong, weird, or unnatural, it’s just different. So what if a guy gets turned on by another guy? Or if he gets turned on by both men and women? What’s it to me? It doesn’t harm me, and don’t tell me it results in less children because the last thing the planet needs is more people – certainly not people that think we need even more babies, the wretched creatures. It results in people being happier, as they are able to enjoy a relationship with a person they truly want to be with. Life is hard as it is; let’s not make it harder by enforcing outdated social rules shall we not? There are enough fake couples in school.

  
  

  I first suspected, or considered, as “suspected” implies different sexual orientations are crimes, that my brother was gay or at least partially fancied men by his acute ability to distinguish whether they were attractive or not. I couldn’t do it, not because I felt that trying to distinguish attractive men would make me gay, I simply couldn’t do it, yet my brother could, without fail. The second time I considered his sexual orientation was during a trip with his best friend. We were huddled in a room, eating cupcakes and talking about…I can’t remember, something to do with sex? It’s always to do with sex. Anyways, my brother announced that he’d like sleep with a guy, and that it’d something cool to try out, to which I responded “If you want to be bisexual, then you are bisexual! Haha!” but nothing never truly came of it. The last instance, for which I actually now feel bad, is when we were in the house’s den, playing PS3 maybe? He asked me “Hey, can I tell you something? It’s a big issue and I hope you won’t be weighed down by it.” I simply looked in his direction and mumbled something along the lines of “Um, it’s fine by me…”. It was at that moment my thoughts solidified regarding my brother’s sexuality and looking back, I was an insensitive little cunt for brushing it off the way I did.

  
  

  Now however, I try to play a more active role regarding these issues. When I see the absolutely stupid reasons for which the LGBT community is oppressed, I cringe inside. I make it point to drive in the fact I fully support the LGBT community despite being straight; as to me it’s a slap in the face for those who try deem them as freaks.

  
  
   
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  EsmeT 12:03 pm on February 17, 2014 Permalink  

  Part of the family 

  I've just finished working on a show with people I have taken to calling our rainbow team ie. the core few people I've been working with within a bigger team are all queer in one way or another.

   

  And of course our sexualities didn't come up in conversation a lot [even when working in theatre it generally doesn't] but just knowing that if I did bring it up, the people around me would know, acknowledge and further what I was talking about, which did happen on occasion; and knowing that I wasn't a minority on my own (as we were still a minority in the wider team) - it felt wonderful.

   

  It was simply lovely, similar to the feeling I get in a gay club or when I'm in or watching a pride parade, a feeling similar to that of family - affection, solidarity, pride, understanding, support. But it was different because it was under everything; our queerness wasn't the main focus of the activity, and we rarely talked about it, because we were getting on with the job, but it wasn't quashed. It wasn't hidden or ignored. It was just there and not a big deal.

   

  I do feel that it's not a big deal with straight friends and coworkers as well (except those that don't pick up or simply forget that I'm bi). It's a feeling akin to acceptance, I think. However, the novelty is being in essentially a queer environment without it being the main reason we are together, and still being tangibly aware of it. LGBT meetings are great, but it is encouraging to find I can get that feeling of solidarity in a 'real life' context as well.

   

  I've always liked being with other queers, just like I enjoy being with my family. Working on this production was like putting on a wedding - the purpose is the marriage of two people (putting on a performance), and it involves a ceremony and a reception (a rehearsed staging and first night party), and logistics like clothes (costume), venue (theatre) and decor (set and props); but doing all the planning and execution around the main event [that can sometimes be dull or a lot of time/effort!] with people you feel a connection to makes it more than bearable; it can at times be as fun as the event itself eg. a shopping trip for clothes becomes enjoyable if you have a parent and/or close friends along to do it with you, and a lengthy conversation about scheduling is made easier if you have something in common with your director.

   

  Hopefully that simile shows that they are similar contexts, with similar results. Feeling closer to my team through our shared queerness enhanced the trust we built in our relationships whilst working to put on a show. Sure, you can't get over major arguments or personality clashes just by being connected - that's why Aunty Margaret has to be seated the other end of the marquee to her sister who she's had a feud with for 20years - but hastening the familiarity meant more honest, frank, and I suppose just more grown up conversations (and Aunty Margaret kept her promise and didn't through wine in her sister's face. After all, she's still her sister.)

   

  I will admit I started writing this post on the way home from the wrap party, so if it doesn't make sense, blame the gin!
   
• 

  jen 12:13 pm on February 1, 2014 Permalink | Reply  

  There might be the odd anomaly… 

  The bit of the website that copies all our bloggers’ posts over to the Facebook page has been playing silly buggers unreliable of late. About to try a new fix, apologies in advance if it all goes a bit peculiar for a while!

   

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• 

  Edward Lord 8:07 pm on January 28, 2014 Permalink  

  Stonewall: a new dawn for the UK’s top LGBT equality campaign 

  Anyone who has read my blog on LGB&T issues may have noticed a scepticism in my tone about the work of Stonewall, the biggest and most influential equal rights campaign in the United Kingdom, this despite being listed by them amongst 17 LGB ‘Role Models’ in their publication of that name back in 2012.

  In recent years, Stonewall, and more particularly its egregious Chief Executive, Ben Summerskill, has put itself on the wrong side of debates – arguing for example in 2010 that there was no need to campaign for equal marriage as civil partnerships were quite sufficient. Furthermore, Summerskill steadfastly refused to allow Stonewall in England to support trans* people in their battle for equality; and, most recently, he has consistently used the term ‘gay’ to cover all queer folk, which risks excluding those who identify as lesbian, bisexual, or in some other way that best suits them.

  Then, last Thursday came the news that many LGB&T activists across the UK have long been waiting for. Ben has gone.

  In his place as Acting Chief Executive is Ruth Hunt: Ben’s Deputy since last last April and a leading campaigner with the charity since 2005. In my experience of Ruth she is not only a highly effective lobbyist but also far more considered in approach and willing to listen to all sections of our communities.

  Ruth has already made clear that she wishes to adopt a far more open and inclusive approach to Stonewall’s work. In her first tweet as Acting CEO she loyally said that she was proud to carry on Ben’s legacy but recognised that there is lots to do in Britain and around the world to end homophobia and biphobia.

  The very mention of biphobia, recognising that bisexual people do face distinct discrimination both within LGB&T communities and beyond, is already a major step forward for Stonewall becoming genuinely inclusive in its campaigns.

  Later on the same day – in a debate on Facebook – Ruth opened the door to Stonewall potentially taking up the baton on behalf of trans* people in their desire to achieve full equality in Britain and overseas.

  I believe that there remains a major role for Stonewall. Discrimination against LGB&T people still exists in the hearts and minds of far too many people and institutions in our own country and around the world. The change in Stonewall’s leadership marks a new dawn for the charity and I wish Ruth well in her role as Acting CEO, and hopefully in the post substantively should the trustees find in her favour after their open recruitment process.

  For now though I have reinstated my donation to Stonewall as a sign of my faith that they will change for the better. I hope others who, like me, had doubts about Stonewall under Summerskill will join in supporting Ruth Hunt as she takes the charity through its next stage of development.

  If you feel inclined to do so, follow this link to make a donation to Stonewall.

  
  
   
• 

  Depositum Custodi 12:24 pm on January 25, 2014 Permalink  

  On Consent 

  I thought, it appears foolishly, that consent was a simple thing. If you wish to physically interact with another person, you get their informed enthusiastic consent before doing so. This did not seem to me to be controversial. After the news stories and the reactions thereto of the last couple of weeks, I'm not so sure. So here is a very basic primer on consent for the hard-of-thinking.

  1. If you wish to interact physically with another person, ask them first.
  
  
  2. Ask as specifically as possible, so there are no misunderstandings about what is (or is not) being consented to.
  
  
  3. Consent does not have to be verbally explicit, but that does not mean that you can assume it's there. If in doubt ask, don't assume.
  
  
  4. Consent can be stopped or withdrawn at any time, and if it is stopped or withdrawn you stop what you are doing immediately.
  
  
  5. If they say no to anything you suggest, that is not consent.
  
  
  6. If they look horrified, move away, can't maintain eye contact, or otherwise display a lack of enthusiasm for the prospect, that is not consent.
  
  
  7. If they are too drunk/stoned/otherwise incapacitated to know what they are doing, that is not consent.
  
  
  8. If they are dressed in a particular way, that is not consent.
  
  
  9. If consent is given in response to some threat you have issued or implied, or any other form of duress, that is not consent.
  
  
  10. If you have had consenting physical interaction with a person before, this does not imply that future physical interactions are automatically consented to, nor does it give you a free pass to escalate interactions to new heights.
  
  
  11. If you are unsure about whether or not consent has been given, err on the side of caution and don't do anything. If the person you wish to interact with is enthusiatic about interacting with you, they will let you know.

  None of that strikes me as being particularly difficult. It's about respecting another person's right to determine what happens to them. The fact that some people struggle with this is profoundly depressing to me. Surely physical contact is better when all parties are happy and enthusiastic about it happening?
  
  ETA: inevitably the first response to this (on twitter) was "But what about x, y and z situations?". There is a reason I put "very basic" at the top of this post. Obviously there are situations in long-standing relationships or BDSM play where some of these rules need to be applied more flexibly. I would contend, however, that (just to pluck a random example out of the air) in the bar at Lib Dem conference with people you do not know well and don't have an existing relationship with, all of the above needs to be cast iron.
  
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• 

  Traveller_23 12:07 am on January 16, 2014 Permalink  

  Coming Out to…the Youngest Aunt 

  

  
  I've always worried about coming out to older Bangladeshis. LGBTQ issues don't even seem to exist for them – so how can they be understanding of my sexuality? But I guess you never know till you try.
  
  This post is about my aunt who lives in the States. Earlier this year I flew over to hers as I'd not seen her in half a decade, and I came out to her while I was there. It was unlikely I'd be able to do it face to face any other time in the near future, so I thought I should take the chance. She is the first and currently only Bangladeshi over a certain age to whom I have revealed my bisexuality to. She doesn't know about this blog, and so right now I can only write about my point of view. Hopefully one day that'll change, and I'll be able to share her thoughts as well.
  
  
  My aunt was born and brought up in Bangladesh. She is a religious Muslim woman in her late thirties who prays five times a day. Make of that what you will. She is also a thinking woman, a scientist and a person who relies on logic and reason in a manner that the world could learn from. We were close while I was growing up. She was still at university when I was in school and this made her feel young and approachable. She is openly liberal, and accepting of the fact that my peripatetic upbringing has made me different. She always acknowledged that said upbringing meant I was not the traditional Bangladeshi son my parents once wanted me to be. Most importantly, she also asserted that this was completely fine. This made me feel that there was someone in my corner, something that was often missing during my childhood.
  
  She eventually left Bangladesh to live, study and work across Asia and America. These experiences have made her, in her own words, different now – although I would personally argue she has always been different. Anyway, all of this made me think she would be the ideal first candidate to come out to amongst my older relatives. If things went well, she could become an ally. If things went badly, I couldn’t imagine her telling my parents or setting out to harm me in any way. Nevertheless, the actual act of explaining my bisexuality to her was a daunting experience. I was planning to spend almost ten days with her family, and I had already decided to let the first half go by as a normal holiday. The day I eventually did decide to tell her, the baby cousin got sick. The day after my uncle decided to come home early and take us out to dinner. The day after that my aunt decided to have a massive migraine, but by now I was going crazy so I decided to hell with the headache.
  
  I told her we needed to talk, and so we sat down and talked. Same-sex marriage had actually come up a few days earlier on the news, and her own commentary on it had left me a little nervous. She had said that physical pleasure had many forms, which was no big deal, but had questioned its need to be validated through marriage. I made the point about the emotional aspect of a same-sex relationship, she hmm-ed and didn’t press the argument further. Now, we had the entire conversation. Hours of it. In a way, it helped that I was bisexual. I can be emotionally and physically attracted to a woman in the same way I can be attracted to man. This duality actually seemed to make it easier for her to understand. I put it to her in other ways too. I can be attracted to a man a same way she can – we experience the same spectrum of feelings and emotions.
  
  She accepted that a variety of attractions can exist. She didn’t need the cliched question of “when did you choose to be straight” posed to her. But she did want an explanation of the origins of sexuality, biologically speaking. I didn’t have an exact answer and frankly I don't think anyone definitively does at this time. I mentioned various studies that I had read of, including one relating to higher female fertility being directly proportional to a greater number of gay men in a family. She countered that these studies ultimately proved nothing as correlation does not prove causation. She offered the explanation espoused by her friends in Bangladeshi medical circles – the idea that same-sex attraction was a mental disorder. I questioned their qualification to comment on mental health given that this was not their specialisation. I also asked her if she thought I had a mental disorder. I don’t think she believed I had, but was rather setting me up for what I’d face in Bangladesh. I was glad that she was willing to communicate openly and unflinchingly.
  
  We even briefly covered the thorny issue of Islam and its stance on non-heterosexuality. The conversation was actually quite tentative on both sides. Neither of us could claim any great amount Islamic knowledge, me even less so than her. My aunt admitted that she was becoming less certain of what is sold to us by the status quo, from an Islamic perspective at least, as right and wrong. She mentioned the usual obstacles to seeking more knowledge, like her inability to speak Arabic and the need to rely on translations of the Quran and questionable Hadith. She expressed her frustration with not being able to question the validity of scripture others quoted to her, or indeed quote scripture back. To this end, she asked me about a rather popular 'Hadith' used to condemn homosexuality and usually worded as: “when a man mounts a man, the throne of Allah shakes.” Now, I haven't ever been able to find a chain of transmission for this Hadith. Not that the internet knows everything, but I it's never backed up with thorough references. This is scary given how commonly it's touted online, even to the point that my aunt would ask me about it.
  
  She set about asking a few more practical questions. Who else knew that I was bisexual? Did I talk about it a lot? Did people in Bangladesh know? Her tone implied that she thought I should keep it quiet. I think this was partly because she wasn't completely comfortable with it herself, but she said it was because it could put me in harm's way. But I've left behind that phase of hiding for a long time now. All of my close friends know, in Bangladesh and elsewhere. Younger members of the family know, as do many colleagues and acquaintances in the UK and around the world. I told her as much, and she pursed her lips and glared at me. This made me laugh a little. I knew that look – she was annoyed with me. But I knew she would help me deal with things, if things were to ever happen.
  
  The conversation then took a lighter and bizarrely amusing turn. She asked me if sexuality was indeed genetic, who did I think were the other queer folk in our extended family? And then she rattled through all the possibilities. Was it the cousin who'd not gotten herself a boyfriend yet? Or was it the uncle who's marriage had broken down in divorce? Or was it was the one who'd resisted getting married for years? Or maybe it was the other cousin who'd never gotten married at all! All of this speculation really did make me laugh. But I had to wonder, with such a large extended family, surely someone else out there isn't heterosexual?
  
  
  

  She asked me about my relationships, and if I was dating. When I said yes, she asked me if I slept with everyone I dated, being carefully gender neutral with the word “everyone” in Bengali. This I loved. At the same time, I wondered where she was coming from. Was she uncomfortable with the idea of promiscuity, or the idea of gay sex specifically? Did she think I was dating, or just hooking up? I thought it would be better to clarify my approach to dating – which really meant meeting someone to hopefully establish a meaningful relationship with. That meant a lot of forgettable first dates, or even second and third dates that went nowhere. I was honest about how I did things – I wouldn't jump into bed with someone if I didn't think things were headed somewhere. So no, no promiscuity, but yes, gay sex is implied. Trying to gauge her feelings, I asked her if it mattered to her who I brought home. She was frank. She said she needed time to get used to my bisexuality. For now, she'd encourage me to bring a girl home. It would make my life easier, and it would be easier for her to accept at present. But what if I brought a guy home? Well, she was sure one day she would accept him too. Which is all I needed to hear really, as one day I may be counting on her to be a stand in for my parents.
  
  
   
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  EsmeT 9:16 pm on January 12, 2014 Permalink  

  Why are homos and heteros scared of bisexual adultery? 

  One of the many classic reasons given by heteros and homos as to why they don't want to date someone who is bisexual is that they would be scared of the bisexual cheating on them or leaving them for someone of the opposite gender to themselves.
  

  
  

  And it confuses the shit out of me. Not just the frustrating assumptions behind it that we can't be satisfied with only one gender; that we need both, must have both, and probably at the same time, or we're somehow going to spend our entire lives having threesomes, or at least sleeping with one person of each gender at all times (which to ignorant people means 1 man and 1 woman), or even that we by necessity are all polyamorous, and the only way to be happy is a three person couple.

  
  

  Not just that. It hurts, like all biphobia, because it makes me feel like I am automatically untrustworthy. Why should who I am attracted to have any bearing on the kind of person I am? I'm a good person! There are cheaters, and there are faithful partners, and neither group is delineated along the lines of orientation. If I'm the kind of person who wants a monogamous, long-term relationship, and eventually marriage, the genders of the celebrities on my personal Hot List are irrelevant to my likelihood of cheating/leaving my partner for someone else.

  
  

  It also seems illogical. Who cares what gender my partner has cheated on me with/is leaving me for, that bastard has betrayed me, replaced me, broken trust, probably lied to me, and disrespected me! My girlfriend sleeps with/runs off with a man, it is not going to hurt any more or any less than if she had slept with/run off with a woman. Even the thought of this non-existent girlfriend cheating on me hurts a little bit; the image of someone's hand, anyone's hand, touching the body that I - hypothetically - loved, caressed, cared for, and centred my world around - how could it hurt more, simply because it was Craig and not Carol? The girlfriend would be gone, my heart would be broken, and I would hate the person they slept with equally if it was Craig OR Carol.

  
  

  So why do some homos and heteros feel differently? I genuinely don't understand. Sure, someone of a different gender to you can give your partner different things. But obviously so can someone of the same gender as you, otherwise why do homos and heteros cheat on their partners with people the same gender as their partner? (Hopefully that sentence makes sense). If your partner has cheated on you/is leaving you for someone else, you have been inadequate or something has been wrong; it is not your gender. It's you, or it's them, but it's probably both of you, two individuals with unique lives, with a broken relationship. Don't blame their bloody orientation - you're sidestepping the issue.
  
  And don't be scared of entering a relationship with a bisexual. The relationship will work or will break, based on how the two of you work together, and how much effort you both put into the relationship.

  
  
   
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  There Will Be Guests At The Hall 11:14 am on January 9, 2014 Permalink  

  There Will Be a Substantive Blog Post Later, But I Just Had To Say This… 

  There are people in this world who like to be nannied. To turn their brains off and let other people do the thinking. To let someone else make all the decisions and have everything handed to them on the plate. These people are traditional statist Labourites.
  
  There are people in this world who like taking orders. Who like the smack of firm Tory Government.
  
  Good luck to both those sets of people. I'm a Liberal, I don't understand them, but I can dig that that's what they like. It's not what I want, though.
  
  I want hot sexy liberalism, pure and unsullied by authoritarian bullshit. And by Cthulhu I'm lucky enough to know lots of people who want to give it to me. I'm a lucky, LUCKY girl.
  
  *grin*
  
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  There Will Be Guests At The Hall 12:45 pm on January 8, 2014 Permalink  

  The idea that sex workers are all exploited is patronising and wrong 

  I am quite willing to believe that some sex workers are exploited, coerced, and mistreated. Human trafficking is a terrible thing, and should be stamped out. Modern slavery likewise. But when somebody says that the ONLY reason for a sex worker to go into sex work is coercion and/or desperation, that makes me a bit uncomfortable to say the least.
  
  The idea that no woman (because when people say this, it IS usually about women) could go into sex work voluntarily springs from some very sexist (and quite modern) assumptions:

  1. Women do not like sex as much as men*
  2. Therefore if a woman Does It with a man she must be doing it for some reason other than enjoyment
  3. Love is an acceptable reason, money isn't

  You all know how I hate it when we are treated as members of our group first and individuals second, so I'm not going to labour that point, but... some people have high sex drives, some people have low sex drives, and those things are not always congruent with gender.
  
  It is entirely possible that some women go into sex work voluntarily, and enjoy it when they get there. In fact, more than possible, it's true; you can find myriad testimonies from such women on the internet and elsewhere. And to dismiss them with "oh well they don't know what they are saying", which is normally the next step for people who think all sex workers are coerced? Surely I don't need to point out how patronising and sexist THAT attitude is?
  
  TL;DR version: I am a sex positive feminist and I don't think feminists who aren't know what they are talking about.
  
  

  ---

  
  *Anyone who thinks all women have lower sex drives than all men needs to be introduced to me, and then to have a gentle chat with some of my partners, only one of whom comes anywhere close to having my general level of sex drive.
  
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  jen 11:49 pm on January 3, 2014 Permalink  

  The joy of bi groups 

  
  

  One of the main ways we’ve created room for bi identities for the last thirtysome years in the UK is local bi groups; starting in September 1981 (I think?) with the London Bi Group holding its regular meetings in a gay bar, there is an unbroken thread of such things going on around Britain, whether in the corner of a pub, a function room at a bar, a meeting room at a community centre, or a café.  LBG closed down a long time ago and so the longest-running group now is BiPhoria in Manchester, which I’ve been a part of since 1994.  As it’s in its twentieth year its very existence is by now one of the ripostes to bi being “just a phase”.

  
  

  It’s something we have in common with lesbian and gay communities, but it also reflects our lower level of organisation, reach and support.  We can do that first helping hand out of the gay / straight closet, but there aren’t the football teams or open-all-week bars that the gay community has.  A shame as I think the Kinsey Rangers is a crackingly cheesy name for a bisexual football team (and in the absence of a real one, I’d still love to have a fictional cartoon strip about it each issue in BCN if anyone’s up for doing that).

  
  

  Looking back at listings of bi meets from the 80s and 90s and comparing them with today one of the interesting trends is the falling away of gendered bi groups.  I think it’s good that it has happened, but if it’s more than sheer chance, I’m interested as to the pressures that led to that. I get the impression that in the USA for example things have remained a lot more gender divided, but that may just be the bits of US bi culture that I happen to notice.  My best guesses are that there are at least three factors at play.  One being some persistent trans and genderqueer volunteers who came along, stuck around helping make things happen, and so forced some cis bi activists to think about things sooner. Two is that where groups are a little borderline in their existence, a mixed gender space potentially pulls in more than twice as many people, albeit then swapping one set of issues as to how the space is run for another sometimes.  And three the way it can tie in with a sense of bi mission. Picturing the Manchester bi scene in 1993 there was a bi men’s group, a bi women’s group, and at some point the penny has to have dropped for the people organising each: we’re running social spaces for people where the common factor is that gender isn’t a boundary condition for them the way it is for other people, and we’re running them in carefully gendered spaces – are we missing a point perhaps?

  
  

  Certainly in gender my experience of bi groups and spaces contrasts hugely with LG / LGB spaces.  Not all bi people, groups and spaces are or have always been trans-sorted and accepting of gender diversity, but more of them are and they seem to have got there quicker than the gay scene.  It seems to have been a conversation that went on in the UK bi community in the early 1990s, whereas in lesbian and gay communities and spaces it took another ten or fifteen years – at times painful to watch from the higher moral ground of spaces that had ‘got it’ a short while before.

  
  

  There’s gender difference beyond trans too, as the male/female balance of bi spaces I’ve encountered has been so much better than that of LG/LGB spaces.  There is some research suggesting there are more gay men than lesbians and more bi women than bi men.  I don’t think the research is perfect and such questions are so loaded by the wider culture that it perhaps tells us things about what words people think they can own for themselves as much as it tells us a truth about human sexuality diversity.  But that might explain why spaces that are lesbian and gay and notionally bi have a male skew that bi spaces don’t so often have.

  
  

  There are those who see no need for bi groups any more: even ten years ago I found myself in conversations about how there was ‘no point’ in things like BiPhoria meeting any more as ‘it’s all fine now, people don’t have any problems’.

  
  

  I’m not persuaded of that, and not just because of the statistics on bisexual people’s life experiences nor the steady stream of new people through the door of my local bi group every month. 

  
  That’s not to say that nothing has changed though.  Where once people came to a group like BiPhoria knowing little more than the words from a poster in a bookshop or a photocopied leaflet they picked up on an outreach stall, work like the Getting Bi In A Gay / Straight World  booklet and video means a lot of new members arrive now knowing a lot more, perhaps needing a slightly different kind of a space than we had in the 1990s.  That’s good, the world has changed in so many ways and the recipe for a good bi group will change with it.

  
  BiPhoria might still be happening from sheer force of habit, but out there in the rest of the country the desire for bi space and bi meetups has its ebb and flow but is still strong.  Last year new groups launched in Edinburgh and London, the latter one focused on bisexuals over 50.    And this winter I know of two more about to spring into life in Nottingham and Southampton.  Though the latter two are run by people I know, neither will be quite the same shape as BiPhoria.  And good luck to ’em: while there are a few ways of running a bi group that I think are wrong, there are surely a lot of ways of doing it right. The more of us who are trying the better our chances of hitting on some really good formulae.