OPINION
Well, it’s that time of year again. Community groups are frantically adding finishing touches to their fabulous floats. Drag performers are finessing their chorey ahead of their main stage appearances. The streets of Northbridge are bracing for an explosion of sparkle. It’s the final weekend of PrideFEST for 2025.
I’ve heard many reflections on this year’s theme – We Are Here – over the last few weeks. It’s all about our community taking up space in the world. We exist here on Whadjuk Noongar Country in Perth, across the state, and around the globe. We belong in workplaces, organisations and spaces throughout society. We are here, and we’re not going anywhere.
Alongside these reflections, there has been much discussion about the rise of anti-LGBTIQA+ sentiment in physical and online spaces. This is certainly happening. When it was revealed that the 2030 Gay Games would be coming to Perth, thanks to the extraordinary efforts of Pride WA and Team Perth, social media posts were flooded with nasty, disgusting, hateful comments. Recently, the Perth Rainbow Swans spoke to mainstream media about the vile torrent of bile they experienced ahead of their Pride Swimming Carnival. When these stories were mentioned the office of my day job, my colleagues were shocked this is happening in 2025. While I wish I were surprised, both anti-LGBTIQA+ voices and the apathy of those with power and influence, have long been chipping away at our protective social barriers.
At least two members of the WA Government, John Carey and Hannah Beazley, have publicly condemned this emerging rise in anti-LGBTQIA+ rhetoric. As Minister for Youth, Beazley has also championed work on the state’s first LGBTIQA+ Inclusion Strategy and accompanying Action Plan. The government should be commended for the progress they have made. I cannot, however, glaze over their role in what is happening here. In opposition, both state and federal Labor parties featured vocal leaders in the fight for LGBTQIA+ rights and equality. In government, they have actively backed away from our corner.
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese removed mention of LGBTQIA+ people from Labor’s manifesto ahead of his first election as leader. In 2017, WA Labor promised a suite of reforms long-awaited by our communities. Since Mark McGowan’s first election as Premier they have dragged their feet to roll these reforms out – abolition of the Gender Reassignment Board, expunging historical LGBTQ+ convictions, and now surrogacy reform is close to reality. We’re still waiting for changes to the Equal Opportunity Act to protect students and teachers in faith-based schools. There is no reason these changes needed to be dropped as breadcrumbs for us to nibble on across a decade. Real leadership means taking decisive action, speaking up for us at every opportunity, and visibly condemning discrimination and hate speech – not stepping back and letting it play out. I am sure there are people fighting hard for progress within the party, but at the end of the day, ‘better than the other guys’ is just not enough.
Our trans and gender diverse siblings have also been in the crosshairs for quite some time. A global campaign of misinformation, lies, fear-mongering and straight up hatred has kept some of the most vulnerable people in our communities splashed across sensational headlines and in the mouths of ignorant politicians for years. Between the UK Government’s blind acceptance of the flawed Cass Review, and President Trump’s penchant for using trans people as a political football, of course elements of the public would become emboldened to share their twisted views about our communities more broadly.
I can also speak to my own experience. Just recently I was on a date, it was a Tuesday night and this fella and I were holding hands as we walked down William Street. It was relatively busy for a weekday evening, people were out getting ice cream or a late night meal. A group of young people, perhaps high school age or in their early 20s, drove past filming us and shouting some slurs you can probably imagine. I laughed it off and told them where to go. They drove past again, asking what I said. This time, I stayed quiet, we continued walking. As we arrived on the corner of William and James St, I heard a voice very close to my left ear.
“What the fuck did you say to me?”.
The four kids from the car had surrounded me. I didn’t know how to react. I was angry and I didn’t want to back down. I silently looked him in the eye as he continued to berate me.
“I don’t care if there’s fucking cops across the road mate. They won’t care. I’m not afraid of them.”
I remained quiet. I held my date’s hand tighter. There was so much I wanted to say but, for my safety, decided not to. I looked to one of the young women with this charming chap. I thought I might elicit some sympathy.
“Don’t look at me faggot. I hate you too.”
That one stung. Thankfully they left.
After a decade in this business, I often believe I am numb to these things. I’ve realised that’s a lie I tell myself. I was shaken, humiliated and forced to confront my place in the world. On a Tuesday night? I just wanted some mapo tofu.
I decided to share this experience because it has been a catalyst for much reflection, not just on this year’s Pride theme. This personal confrontation, in the context of these amplifying anti-queer voices, was a much-needed reminder of where I find my Pride. There are few things I am certain about in my life – but at the top of that list is my commitment to work for this community. The value I find in keeping OUTinPerth alive has long been a driving force in my life, but I’ve often avoided writing opinion pieces because I find myself asking – who cares what I think? Why does my voice matter?
I know now my answer – I care. I care what I think, and I believe in what we do. Serving this community gives me great pride, and I have never been more galvanised to wield this platform to share your stories, connect our community and squash our critics.
All of this is to say, we are here – together. We have each other to lean on. We all have our own experiences, our own wellsprings of Pride, but as a community we can and must stand side by side in solidary, continue to lift each other up and raise our voices in unison. After all, as Aretha said, it’s the power that gives you the strength to survive.
So however you choose to celebrate – in the streets, on the dancefloor or curled up on the couch – get amongst it and honour the journey we’ve made together, that our forebears have made for us, so we could march boldly through the streets of our city awash with rainbows, glitter and Pride.
Do you need some support?
If you need someone to talk to, support and counselling are available from:
QLife: 1800 184 527 / qlife.org.au (Webchat 3pm – midnight)
QLife are a counselling and referral service for LGBTQIA+ people.
DISCHARGED: info@discharged.asn.au / discharged.asn.au
Discharged is a trans-led support service with peer support groups for trans and gender diverse folks.
Lifeline: 13 11 14 / lifeline.org.au
Beyondblue: 1300 22 4636 / www.beyondblue.org.au
