20 Scene 46 Gscene
We chat to two couples from a new project which celebrates those who found love in the decade of social division, Section 28 and the AIDS/HIV epidemic ) The We Found Love In The 80s project,
launched to coincide with LGBTQ+ History Month last month and supported by Arts Council England and Future Arts Centres, was created by artist Dawinder Bansal and synth pop musician Martyn Ware (of Human League and Heaven 17 fame). The project is part of the Here and Now celebration of culture, which celebrates couples who met in the era of innovation, social division, Section 28 and the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and explores how they overcame obstacles such as homophobia, racism and class prejudice. D More info: www.wefoundloveinthe80s.com
Ian & Ian Ian Bodenham and Ian Johns had to grapple self-acceptance in a society rife with homophobia, Section 28, prejudice and misinformation about AIDS. They came out to their families 10 years after starting their relationship. They were married in 2014, and now run a vintage shop in Brick Lane.
What do you remember of the AIDS epidemic? IJ: The first time I heard about a strange new disease affecting gay men I clearly remember. It was in 1983 and I was talking to friends in Heaven nightclub. Someone was speaking about herpes, saying it never goes away. Another friend said there was a new disease that gay men were catching in America, you got flu and then died. It just got closer and closer until
Tell us your coming out story. IJ: I was sexually active from a very early age but didn’t come out to family and friends until I was 22. To my astonishment I had no problem with anyone, in fact most people I told said they thought I probably was anyway. My family, especially my sister, was very supportive; I was very lucky, I felt so much more confident and happy living as an openly gay man. IB: In 1981 I moved into a flatshare in Camberwell with a flamboyant girl called Fiona, to whom it was fairly easy for me to come out, initially as bisexual – not that I was, but back then it was a way of testing the waters, perhaps it still is for some. Through Fiona early in 1982 I met a gay friend of a similar age and he took me to the RVT, then clubs like Bang, Cha Chas and Heaven. Gradually I built up a network of friends with whom I could be myself. I’d dropped out of college and was doing casual
“My family, especially my sister, was very supportive; I was very lucky, I felt so much more confident and happy living as an openly gay man” There was a strong political element to life, not confined only to LGBTQ+ issues, but galvanised by the acts of a very right wing Tory government led by Thatcher, who was almost universally despised. By this time we were beginning to appear in the media, but in the most horrific way – represented as freaks, monsters and pariahs. Some of the coverage was so extreme, some were calling for draconian measures like exile and quarantine. This in turn emboldened an already hostile minority to attack individuals and venues. Public services were also affected by the paranoia – some healthcare workers refused to treat HIV+ people, or even anyone gay, police conducted raids in PPE style protective gear. But this hostility just brought us together even more, lesbians were particularly supportive and tireless in helping their ailing gay brothers. IAN & IAN. PHOTO CREDIT: DEE PATEL OF OUTROSLIDE PHOTOGRAPHY
How did you meet? IJ: In late 1983 I spotted a cute young man at The Bell in Kings Cross and tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look at me. A few weeks later I saw him again at The Asylum at Heaven, still no luck. A short while later I got on a train at Tottenham Court Road and he was sitting directly opposite. He still would not look at me. A week or so later at Asylum he was there again – one last try and if it doesn’t work that’s it, I thought. I was in luck! He smiled at me and we finally met. I found out he had seen me too but was just too shy to reciprocate.
it was a friend of a friend, then a friend and ex-partners. It was terrifying, there was no test and I thought I was going to die. For a while I tried to block it out but that changed a few years later when I felt I had to learn as much as I could. I did a lot of training around HIV/ AIDS and became a volunteer at Switchboard in London.
jobs where there was no pressure to hide my sexuality. London was becoming an exciting and varied scene around then with places like The Bell in Kings Cross and The Asylum at Heaven catering for a pretty left-field crowd of underground sounds and styles, which is where I felt I fitted at last.
