ARTICLE: Maintaining the ‘safe’ in Leeds’ LGBTQI+ safe spaces
Although Leeds’ gay nightlife scene does not match that of London, Brighton, or Birmingham, there is still a fair amount of fabulous queer fun to be had. Much of the fun I have had of the queer variety almost exclusively takes place in LGBTQI+ powerhouse, bar, and multi-use venue: Wharf Chambers. The venue hosts Leeds’ most reputable queer club night – Love Muscle – ‘a pumping gay dance party’, that involvesing music above 120 bpm, dancing, and (consensual) romancing. Even beyond Leeds’ queer community, Love Muscle has gained a reputation as one of the best clubbing events in Leeds. Much of this can be placed down to the fabulous line-up of DJs they consistently host. However, when it comes to their LGBTQI+ attendees, it is the lengths organisers go in providing this primary audience a safe space which makes it so most reputable.
From the late hours of the evening into the early hours of the morning, the venue transforms into a space wherein LGBTQI+ identifying individuals will not be exposed to homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, and, of course, the prison that imprisons us all: heteronormativity. They are able to provide this space through an well-implemented ‘safer spaces’ policy, gender neutral toilets, compulsory but affordable membership, and a strict no photos policy. This allows their attendees to feel safe in presenting themselves, in relation to gender and/or sexuality, however they deem fit. For many attendees, this space acts as a life-line: as it is one of the very few spaces they in which queer people can feel that they can comfortable iny presenting as their true, uncensored selves.
As we live in a heteronormative society, all spaces, unless stated otherwise, are by default heteronormative spaces. Because of this, the safety of these queer safe spaces are not a given – rather, it they areis something that must be constantly maintained. Something which threatens Leeds’ LGBTQI+ safe spaces is the presence of individuals whose identities lie outside of the LGBTQI+ classification.
By virtue of its reputation, I understand why those outside of our community may want to attend nights like Love Muscle. From my experience, many Leeds University club-goers approach clubbing as consumers, – which in many respects makes sense – there is a monetary transaction where in which weus, the consumers, expect something, usually an experience involving music, in return. However, queer nights like Love Muscle are not primarily about music or profit; they are about but community. Although this consumer mind-set is fine in most club contexts which do not centre a particular community, this approach in relation to gay events trivialises the importance of them to our community. At best the attendance of these individuals is sheer ignorance, and at worst voyeuristic. In the end, those that mindlessly attend these nights reduce our sexual identities to mere on-trend commodities – something to put on but swiftly taken off once the night is done.
It is not that I think that non-LGBTQI+ individuals should categorically not be allowed to attend queer events. But I do think that they should be conscious of the impact of their presence has in protected spaces. Particularly iIn the context of small venues, the presence of a non-LGBTQI+ individual directly prevents the attendance of someone belonging to that community. For those that plea the argument of allyship, sometimes being an ally involves not being physically present, but in showing support of the existence and importances of these spaces for queer people. It is important to remember that being an ally can only be proved by actions and not by passive support. To be an ally means defending the rights of LGBTQI+ individuals when they’re not around to defend themselves – call out that homophobic uncle of yours, stop using ‘gay’ and ‘pussy’ as pejoratives, and crucially, it means carefully considering how your presence will affect the comfort of those who do not feel safe to express themselves wholly outside of these safe spaces.
The likes of Love Muscle continue to be a queer haven in Leeds’ predominately white and heteronormative clubbing scene. At the moment, there are too few safe spaces for Leeds’ queer community, sadly even fewer for Leeds’ queer POC community, and next to nothing for those who do not go clubbing. Speaking from experience, entering a space that celebrates and protects queerness can be intimidating at first, but can be so transformative once in them. Such feelings of transformation make me think of the powerful words of John Mbiti: ‘I am because we are and, since we are, therefore I am.’ Being in a safe space surrounded by my queer community and seeing other queer individuals live out their truths empowers me to live out my own, which in turn – empowers more of us to do the same. It is in these safe spaces, and sometimes only in these spaces, where we can live our fabulous, unapologetic, and uncensored truths.