I am Alex. I am queer.
Emma and Jayne said I could use this space to write about my own experience, or about what’s in the magazine this week, or anything else I felt like writing. So maybe I’ll do all three?
The magazine this week, as you may have noticed, is the Queer issue. We’ve cleverly titled it Queerlient—geddit?!—and it’s chock full of cool queer content by cool queer writers. We’ve got articles on the history of Pride, gender nihilism and moving beyond the binary, bisexuality and erasure, write ups about No Pride in Prisons (an activist group fighting for the rights of trans prisoners in NZ), a look at the legal status of queer relationships in a post-marriage equality Aotearoa, Pasifika perspectives on queer identities, as well as some thoughts on the intersection of queer and disability, and queerness in sports. We’ve also flooded the reviews section with queer books, performing arts, theatre, games, TV, and more. We’ve worked really hard to pull this all together, so we hope you enjoy it!
I also want to take this opportunity to plug our Pride Week, which is happening right now! We have events every day this week—board games on Monday night, a screening of intersex documentary Intersexion and discussion with the film maker and prominent NZ intersex activist Mani Mitchell on Tuesday, a queer tea party on Wednesday, a kickass quiz on Thursday, a queer safe sex and consent workshop, and a super special secret event (seriously, we aren’t allowed to advertise it in print) on Friday, and a smashing 80s party at Ivy on Saturday. We want to see an amazing turnout for all our events—we’ve put a ton of effort into making all the events really excellent, and it would be great to see all your wonderful faces!
- SPONSORED -
Check our facebook for the event page which has all the info, or email us at firstname.lastname@example.org if you don’t do facebook but still want to come along—we’ll email you everything you need to know.
I am exceptionally privileged to have a loving and supportive family, to be cis, Pākehā, able-bodied, and solidly upper-middle class. When I came out to my mum, her immediate reaction was to try and relate to my experience. When I came out to my brother and sister, they were so happy for me. When I came out for my dad, all he wanted to know was when he got to meet my girlfriend. I have a stable, loving, and supportive relationship with my stunningly beautiful partner. I am the luckiest girl in the world. I am the queer 1%.
Others are not so lucky. And maybe that’s the something else I feel like writing about. So often, when talking about queer stories and experiences, we privilege and promote people who look like me and who have my experiences. We do this to the detriment of all the other queer folk who do not have this experience. The trans folk, the people of colour, the lower class or disabled queers. We’ve tried in this magazine to centre the voices of those who are gender non-conforming, who are not white, who are less privileged or able—to use the privilege we have to give a voice to those who are often held silent. Their stories, perspectives, and opinions are equally valid and deserve to be heard, and society would do well to listen.
So have a read, have a think, have a conversation. Hopefully you’ll put down this magazine having been exposed to an idea you hadn’t encountered before—and if we’ve done our jobs well, you might even enjoy it.
He waka eke noa. E iti noa ana, nā te aroha.