Issue 14 - Queerlient by Salient

EDITORIAL

VUWSA

LETTERS & NOTICES

SWAT

NEWS

VIC UFO

AUDIT

POEM

THE SHADE OF PASIFIKA BROWN IS BOLD AND BRILLIANT BEYOND PINK AND BLUE

TELEVISION

FOOD

MUSIC

IN THE MIRROR: QUEER, BROWN, & CATHOLIC

26 FASHION

IT IS ENOUGH: REFLECTIONS ON PRIDE

29 FILM

NGĀI TAUIRA

31 PODCAST

TOKEN CRIPPLE

32 PROCRASTINATION

LIQUID KNOWLEDGE

33 HOROSCOPES

MAURI ORA

Editor Kii Small editor@salient.org.nz

Advertising Josephine Dawson advertising@vuwsa.org.nz

Designer & Illustrator Rachel Salazar designer@salient.org.nz

Feature Writers Maurice Tupua-Wilson Georgia Andrews Sophie Dixon Riah Dawson

Guest Editor Brock Stobbs

News Editor Johnny O’Hagan Brebner news@salient.org.nz Sub Editor Janne Song subeditor@salient.org.nz Social Media Callum Turnbull socialmedia@salient.org.nz

FM Station Managers Jazz Kane Navneeth Nair TV Producers Monique Thorp Joseph Coughlan

News Section Brock Stobbs, Brodie Fraser, Richard Beere, Kate Aschoff, Rosina Buchanan, Kelly Mitchell, Emma Maguire Contributors Rosina Buchanan, Janne Song, Brock Stobbs, Miia van Beusekom, Nina Weir, Yoon, Sally Ward, Emma Maguire, Kelly Mitchell, Caitlin Hicks, Alice Mander, Sophia Katsoulis, Tara O Suilleabhain, Geo Robrigado

BEYOND UNIQ If you couldn’t guess by the lovely-yet-grainy photo that accompanies this editorial, we have known each other for quite some time. In fact, for most of our lives we lived about two minutes away from each other— six, if Google is to be believed. And after what is probably two decades of knowing each other, we both have found ourselves at UniQ Victoria. Once little gaybies with not a care in the world, we are now big gaybies with many cares. We’ve been gifted the considerable responsibility of being guest editors and curating this issue of Salient. Under the striking title of Queerlient, we have the privilege and freedom to create a magazine that is firmly and decidedly queer—one that communicates to students and the wider university community the ideas, stories, beauty, tragedy, and everything else that needs to be said about our community. With UniQ being the representative group for queer students here at Victoria, you’d think we have a mandate to produce an all-encompassing issue. The reality is, we don’t. UniQ is just an executive of eight, and we are an editing team of two. There is so much more to our community than what two kids who grew up two minutes away from each other can offer. This doesn’t mean that what we have to say doesn’t matter;only that it isn’t the only thing that matters. Our community consists of a diverse range of people, who come from all walks of life, from every nook and cranny of Aotearoa, and then some. While there is much we have in common with each other, there are also many ways in which we differ.

These differences should be shared, celebrated, acknowledged, and understood. When you are marginalised, any instance in which you are not explicitly included means you are excluded. This is a belief we hold dear and which guides our work. But we realise we haven’t been applying this belief to ourselves. UniQ is aware, now more than ever, that we do not reflect the entirety of our community, and that we are lacking in many ways. And that UniQ is not about us. That is our intention with this issue. To go beyond the narrow scope of the community which UniQ presents. To share, celebrate, acknowledge, and try to understand the depths of our community. And to help everyone else do the same. As you read this issue, we hope you understand that this is, by no means, a complete collection of the stories our community has to share. It is but a sliver—a sliver you should wholeheartedly consume nonetheless. There is a need for our stories to be told, to be shouted from the rooftops, and blasted through every speaker in the land. There is a need for space to be made for them, by straight and queer people alike. And above all else, there is a need for you to listen. To listen and understand.

Brock Stobbs (He/Him) & Miia van Beusekom (She/Her)

What VUWSA offers:

Intercampus Bus Passes

VUWSA and Victoria provide free inter-campus bus passes to students.

Pop by VUWSA – we’ll load 10 free bus trips on your Snapper card. Easy!

If you have two classes at different campuses on the same day, you’re eligible for free travel costs.

For all the info about accessing our student services, head to: vuwsa.org.nz

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News. MONDAY , 15 JULY 2019

Gender-Neutral Bathrooms on Campus WHARENUI

MY656A KP06

KELBURN PARADE

STUDIO 77

Sometimes taking a poo can be uncomfortable. Physically, of course, but also emotionally and socially. We all know the extreme discomfort of having to push one out as quietly as possible, so the person in the next stall doesn't sub-tweet you. For trans people, using a bathroom can be a lot (like a lot) more uncomfortable. This can be the case, for example, if they’re made to use bathrooms that don’t correspond with their gender, and/or feel unsafe because of it.

TE PUNI VILLIAGE

FT81

BWA153

WR12 WR15A TO BOYD WILSON FIELD

But now, with this handydandy map of gender-neutral bathrooms on campus (not including solely accessible toilets), our queer comrades can poop with the same level of discomfort as everyone else. It’s called solidarity—look it up.

GENDER-NEUTRAL BATHROOMS

BASEMENT

GROUND FLOOR

EXTERNAL ROAD BUILDINGS

STAIRS ROUTE VS159

By Johnny O'Hagan Brebner (He/Him) & Rachel Salazar (She/Her)

WIG051

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Representation: Victoria Rhodes-Carlin Is Running For Council JOHNNY O’HAGAN BREBNER (HE/HIM)

Public Transport: Inclusion and Accessibility Unsurprisingly for any Wellington local, there are a number of other issues around public transport that Victoria wants to address.

Victoria Rhodes-Carlin: GWRC Candidate Victoria's concerns about the Greater Wellington Regional Council (GWRC) and her vision to resolve them were clear from the outset of her interview— the vision is of a connected, inclusive, and accessible Wellington region.

Central to Victoria’s goals for a functioning public transport system in the region are the principles of inclusivity and accessibility. Using the Eastern Suburbs as an illustration of an area that needs big changes (60% of residents commute by car), she argued that public transport needs to be fair, accessible, and easy to use before it people will begin to use it.

This is reflected in her key policy concerns: fair and accessible public transport, ambitious climate action, and community-driven decisionmaking. A seat on the regional council would give Vic a good opportunity to bring her vision to life, with its area of influence (from Kapiti to Cape Palliser) around running public transport, and responsibilities for environmental regulation, and the regional economy.

Part of this, to Victoria, is the acknowledgement of the needs of different groups, finding ways to work those needs together. She contrasted discussions she’s had with people in both Mount Victoria and Miramar; the former wants a more pedestrian city, while the latter wants a larger highway for a faster commute.

So while acknowledging the work of the local authorities on issues like transport and the environment so far, she says we’re “not quite there”.

Her solution to these differing perspectives? Use community-driven consultation; particularly consulting with existing groups, to determine the best policies for the region as a whole.

Victoria wants to get the region the rest of the way there. Climate Change As it is a key environmental and transport authority in the area, Victoria sees a lot of opportunity to develop environmental policy with GWRC.

“We have to make sure public transport is not excluding people from transport they need to use.” Victoria Rhodes-Carlin with Interviewer Peter McKenzie

When it comes to specific policies, Victoria is committed to making access to low-income groups easier. Following a VUWSA campaign to reduce tertiary bus fees by 25%, Victoria wants to get that down to 50%—a change she considers both feasible and important.

Although she acknowledged the work done already converting to electric buses and emissions reduction targets, Vic thinks there’s more to be done. She wants to make the policies more ambitious. She pointed out that with “essentially ten years to significantly lower our emissions”, the council needs to strengthen its emission reduction targets. She suggested a goal of up to 20% methane reduction by 2030, more than the current 10% target.

Mental Health Mental health is one of the issues that Victoria says pushed her to run for council. An essential problem in the region, to her, is a relatively simple one: “not enough services”. To reduce harm from mental illness, Victoria wants to push for better-funded services with shorter waitlists.

She also pointed to transport and agriculture as key areas to deal with emissions, making up 60% and 30% of the region’s emissions profile, respectively.

After this “first step”, the solutions become broader—although she insists, still tangible. To Victoria, the next steps for Wellington would be developing an environment where people can “be involved, can contribute, and be valued in the future of our region”.

On agriculture, she would push for better support for Wairarapa farmers transitioning to less methane-intense practices. As for transport emissions—Victoria sees the planned electric busses, mass transit, and light rail as possible answers.

News.

A map of the boundaries of Greater Wellington Regional Council, stolen from Google.

The Regional Council is not primarily responsible for the administration of healthcare in the region; that task falls to the District Health Board. Fortunately, Vic pointed out that a number of the regional councillors also sit on the DHB, providing opportunities for collaboration on mental health.

“You put a colour with your face and that instantly puts people off.”

Te Tiriti o Waitangi When asked about working with tangata whenua in the region, Victoria took a two-pronged approach: although believing in the need for greater involvement of mana whenua with the regional council, she asserted that “that’s their decision to make”.

Far from it being a barrier, Vic considers it an asset—“I have the unique life experience of a young person in Wellington... [It’s] important that’s brought to the table.”

To The Haters Wrapping up her interview, Victoria addressed those who would suggest she’s too inexperienced to work on the regional council.

And if she loses, she won’t be quitting. Despite a possible Masters after graduation at the end of this year, Victoria said she’ll be making sure to hold councillors to account the whole way through.

Echoing this, she emphasised Te Tiriti o Waitangi: “one of the most important things that local body and the council should be doing is honouring Te Tiriti.” She even implied an aspiration to go “above and beyond” the usual bounds of the Treaty Partnership.

More Stuff:

Transparency on the Council Victoria was clear about her concerns to resolve GWRC’s history of secret voting. As a form of representative democracy, she called the practice a “disgrace” and told Salient she understood the council was “a bit of an old boys’ club”.

Full interviews available online. Keep an eye on the Salient website and Facebook page. Look up Victoria Rhodes-Carlin for Greater Wellington Regional Council on Facebook for updates and more info.

Committed to eliminate private voting, she said “transparency and accountability is one of the core things I’ve been concerned about.”

Young Matt Show: Discussing the candidate of the week every Monday, 6–8 p.m. http://salient.org.nz/fm/

The Campaign Not confined to national elections, local authority candidates often run on behalf of political parties.

Salient TV: Promo-ing the candidate of the week every Thursday. www.facebook.com/ salientmagazine/

When probed about her decision to run independently, Victoria stood her ground, saying she wants her campaign to be more than just party politics, rather for it to be “about the issues that directly affect the region” without introducing party polarisation.

Enrol for elections at https://vote.nz/ or at the VUWSA offices.

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The Community Without A Home: Queer Homeslessness in Aotearoa BRODIE FRASER (SHE/HER)

LGBTIQ+ homelessness is a massive issue in New Zealand, and yet we know almost nothing about it. Despite the wider public discourse on homelessness, LGBTIQ+ homelessness is rarely discussed. In New Zealand, homelessness is defined as severe housing deprivation, which includes two main criteria: (1) that a person is living in severely inadequate housing, due to (2) a lack of access to housing that meets a minimum adequacy standard (rather than living in such circumstances by choice). Severe housing deprivation consists of experience of any two of three categories: inadequate privacy and control, inadequate security of tenure, and inadequate/uninhabitable structure. Homelessness thus includes rough sleeping, couch surfing, living in shelters and women’s refuges, and living in cars, caravans, and tents. As of the 2013 Census, there were nearly 41,000 New Zealanders who were identified as being homeless/severely housing-deprived. That’s 1% of our total population.

Statistics NZ have made steps towards including sexual orientation questions on the General Social Survey (the results of which are currently being released), but as that only surveys households, it is not particularly useful in obtaining information about people who are homeless. Compounding this, there is a dearth of quality statistics on LGBTIQ+ people in New Zealand in general, which makes it difficult for our needs to be taken seriously. At the 2017 election, the Labour party included a single sentence about LGBTIQ+ homelessness in their Rainbow policy, which stated they would “ensure the needs and specific circumstances of young Rainbow people are actively addressed in our strategies to reduce homelessness”.

The policy document did not state what the Labour Party thought those needs were, nor how they planned to address those needs. We have not heard anything more about this policy plan since the identify as LGBTIQ+ Labour Party formed government.

People who are more likely to be homeless than their non-LGBTIQ+ counterparts. Internationally, LGBTIQ+ people comprise 20– 40% of homeless populations, whilst only comprising 5–10% of the wider population.

People who identify as LGBTIQ+ are more likely to be homeless than their non-LGBTIQ+ counterparts. Internationally, LGBTIQ+ people comprise 20–40% of homeless populations, whilst only comprising 5–10% of the wider population. LGBTIQ+ people who experience homelessness also face greater risks than their non-LGBTIQ+ homeless counterparts. These risks include substance use, mental health difficulties, sexual abuse, foster care placement, family relationship breakdown, survival sex and sex work, and HIV infection. All of these intersect with each other—as well as additional factors such as inaccessible shelters, and discrimination and stigma—to create a complex system of homelessness.

Despite this over-representation in homelessness statistics internationally, there is not yet any data on the prevalence of LGBTIQ+ homelessness in Aotearoa New Zealand. Statistics New Zealand have still not included questions about sexual orientation or gender identity in the Census. Additionally, a recent Statistics NZ guideline document grouped “pedosexual” with a number of queer identities.

As a starting place to explore LGBTIQ+ homelessness in New Zealand, my PhD research is using interviews and video to investigate LGBTIQ+ people’s experiences of homelessness. This will be used to create a framework about how to best meet the needs of LGBTIQ+ people who are homeless in New Zealand. The aim is to give the framework to service providers—such as homeless shelters—in order to ensure they are providing queerfriendly services for their clients.

There is one other similar researcher up in Auckland, Tycho Vandenburg, who is currently doing a PhD on transgender and gender-diverse homelessness. Their research focuses on pathways into homelessness, experiences while homeless, and an exploration of resilience and resistance. Hopefully, our research can serve to highlight the issue of LGBTIQ+ homelessness in New Zealand, and facilitate discussions about how to best meet the needs of a marginalised and vulnerable population. We cannot continue to ignore such a vulnerable population. Brodie Fraser is a PhD candidate at the University of Otago, Wellington. Her research is in public health, exploring LGBTIQ+ people’s experiences of homelessness.

News.

The National Queer in Review RICHARD BEERE (HE/HIM) Ardern First PM at Pride Parade In Auckland 2018, Jacinda Ardern became the first Prime Minister to attend a Pride Parade. Her inclusion has been treated as a signal towards a change in direction for government relations with the queer community.

Largely characterised by protest, but generally seen as progressing important queer issues, 2018/2019 has been a big and busy year for the Rainbow community in New Zealand. Here are a few key stories from the year to keep you up to date. Conversion Therapy Petition In September 2018, Young Labour, Young Greens and InsideOUT presented a petition to Parliament to ban conversion therapy. Combined, the petition received over 20,000 signatures and saw impassioned statements from Teri O’Neill and Max Tweedie at its presentation.

Similarly, Parliament celebrated the re-opening of its refurbished Select Committee “Rainbow Room” with prominent community leaders from across New Zealand. The new decor celebrates Parliament’s history of queer representatives and its commitment to further inclusivity.

Their sentiment was clear: we’re here; we’re queer, and you know there’s no changing it. Brian Tamaki Apology Destiny Church leader Brian Tamaki apologised for previous statements regarding the Rainbow community. Amongst (nowconfirmed) speculation about his family establishing a new political party for the 2020 election, Tamaki reversed statements condemning homosexuality, requesting the queer community move beyond the ‘misunderstanding’. Police in Auckland Pride In early 2019, there was controversy around demands that police officers not attend the Auckland Pride parade in uniform. Proponents of this change reasoned that uniformed police could make attendees feel unsafe during their celebration of diversity and inclusivity.

The International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Intersex Association (ILGA) held their 2019 global conference in Wellington in March. ILGA advocates for queer communities at an international level, including at the UN. Photo by Global Interfaith Network.

Ultimately, despite large-scale loss of corporate sponsorship, Auckland’s rainbow community pulled together a lower-key street march.

International Queer in Review KATE ASCHOFF (THEY/THEM) Taiwan Becomes First in Asia to Legalise Same-Sex Marriage In May, Taiwan became the first of any modern Asian state to legalise same-sex marriage, a move that will allow couples to enter into “exclusive permanent unions” and apply for marriage registration with government agencies, regardless of sexuality.

Tasmania Makes Gender Optional on Birth Certificates In April 2019, new legislation made gender markers on birth certificates optional, and removed the requirement for transgender people to have surgery in order to have their gender recognised. The law also allows people aged 16 years or older to apply to change their registered gender without parental approval, and clarifies laws that protect the right of an individual to express their gender without discrimination.

Japan Grants Refugee Status for Homophobic Persecution For the first time in history, Japan has granted asylum to an LGBT+ refugee in July this year, on the grounds of homophobic persecution in their home country.

US House of Representatives Pass Equality Act The USA’s Equality Act is a piece of legislation that would prohibit LGBTQ+ discrimation nationally. The Act would ensure that in housing, schools, work, and in public facilities, the rights and dignities of the LGBTQ+ community are upheld and respected under the law. The Act passed in the Democrat-controlled House of Representatives in May, but is awaiting consideration before the Republican-held Senate.

Being Transgender No Longer ‘Mental Disorder’—WHO The decision to remove transgender identities from the ICD-11's classification of mental disorders was announced by WHO in June last year. The changes to the health manual will come into effect on January 1, 2022.

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Pasifika Queer in Review NĀ ROSINA BUCHANAN (THEY/THEM)

Samoa Censors Elton John Biopic Earlier this year, Apia’s Apollo Cinemas was prohibited from screening the Elton John biopic Rocketman. The film was dubbed “inappropriate for public viewing” by Samoa’s principal censor. While the decision caused outrage across the globe, President of the Samoan Fa’afafine Association, lawyer Alex Su’a, was less surprised.

The list of films banned included Rocketman, which premiered there in June, and screened openly in Empire Cinema for a week before it was censored. Tangirere said that the manager of the cinema, Pa Napa, was simply “late on the [censorship] list.” However, there is speculation the delay was to test the waters of public opinion. A local Rainbow/Akava’ine association spokesperson encouraged people to watch the film despite the censorship.

In an interview with Sapeer Mayron, Su’a said, “We have been subjected to a lot of labelling, victimising, discrimination, and we’re a lot more resilient now.”

Shaneel Lal: Queer, Fijian, and Killing It On a more positive note, 19-yearold Fijian-born Youth MP Shaneel Lal was interviewed as part of the Open Government Partnership held in Canada recently.

“Ban the movie? We’re like, OK, ban the movie, we’ll go and download it free off the internet. That’s how resilient we are,” Su’a added.

Lal uses the #BreakTheRoles campaign on Instagram to promote diversity in leadership and challenge traditional social roles. Lal spoke to the Partnership about elements of his overlapping identities, as well as the change he wants to bring in the future.

He concluded that while the censorship indicates a setback in their work, it does allow for a spotlight to be shone on the systemic queerphobia in Samoa, and the work of the country’s Rainbow advocates to dismantle it.

“As a coloured person, a member of the rainbow community, and a migrant, these three things work very much together and also against each other.”

Cook Islands Follow Suit In the footsteps of Samoa came the Kuki Airani (Cook Islands) decision to ban films with “homosexual content”.

Lal is on the Ministry of Education’s Ministerial Youth Advisory Board, and has a particular passion for the decolonisation of education. Cover of Samoan Queer Lives. The book documents the stories of fa`afafine, trans, and queer Samoans from the 40’s to today.

Chief Censor Dennis Tangirere, supported the ban on “religious grounds” as well as those arguments applied in Samoa.

“Me being openly who I am [is] a way of saying that, actually, you can have this background. You can be yourself, you can accept yourself, and you can actually get into many places,” said Lal.

News.

Māori Queer in Review NĀ KELLY MITCHELL (SHE/HER)

One insight was the revelation that one of Aotearoa’s most celebrated haka composers, Ngapo Wehi, co-authored Mika’s controversial haka "Tēnei Tōku Ure".

A year can feel like a short time in the world of the Indigenous Queer, and 2019 was no excpetion. The stories included here outline the presence achieved by queer Māori in both the Rainbow community and Māoritanga, and suggest another busy year for them.

In an interview with Te Ao, Mika discusses that the haka, which is performed in heels, aimed to bring awareness of the AIDS crisis amongst Māori men.

Queen Takes Bishop: Georgina Beyer Weighs In On Brian Tamaki Apology

Wehi’s son, Tapeta, says his father was very supportive of Mika and always endorsed haka that were relevant and forwardthinking.

Brian Tamaki, the notoriously anti-LGBT Destiny Church leader, has been attempting to reconcile relations with the Rainbow community in a surprising apology at his church's AGM.

Dr Kerekere Accepts Award, But Questions Event

In 2016, Tamaki blamed earthquakes on "gays, sinners and murderers" and marched against civil unions.

Aoteaora’s first-ever LGBTI awards took place in November last year. Despite its premise as an awards night to honour queer leadership, the event quickly came under fire, being accused as a corporate cash-in.

While some of the Rainbow community saw the apology as a positive step in reconciliation, others interpreted the move as one to garner political respectability. In the latter camp was Georgina Beyer, whakawahine Māori and exMP.

Issues at the forefront of the criticism included the event’s guests being comprised primarily of corporate bodies, and awards such as 'Organisation of the Year' being given to the NZ Police.

In an interview published by Taroi Black, Beyer said, “Yes, he has apologised I guess grudgingly one could accept that but I take it tacitly.” However, she continued, “There is obviously going to be a political link. There seems to be inner strict able length by Brian and Hannah or much that's got to do with Destiny Church. There's a deep amount of suspicions I believe.”

Cover of I Have Loved Me A Man. Mika quoted at the start of Chapter One: Weet-Bix Māori; "When I was born, my mother told the hospital that she wanted to keep me, but they wouldn’t let her. They took me away before she could even see me.”

Dr Elizabeth Kerekere, who received the event’s ‘Takatāpui Hero’ award, was also one to critique the event.

Speaking to Te Karere, Elizabeth spoke of the gratitude she felt to receive the award, which was based on online voting—in particular, that people were “acknowledging the work”.

Ngapo Wehi Co-Authorisation of ‘Gay Haka’ Revealed—30 Years Later I Have Loved Me a Man, the biography of takatāpui legend, Mika, appeared on shelves late last year. The book, in amongst detailing the struggles and triumphs Mika faced being Māori and Queer, provided astonishing insights into many of his formidable works.

However, she recognised the criticism of the event as legitimate, adding, “Yes [transparency] is an issue, lack of community engagement and [...] what went into [being shortlisted].” She also said the event should have been more inclusive of tangata whenua.

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Rostra’s Hot Takes: Police & Pride THE OPINIONS YOU DIDN'T THINK YOU NEEDED Follow ‘Victoria University Politics Society’ on Facebook to submit on the fortnightly Hot Takes question.

Prioritize LGBT+ People at Pride, Please KALEA HAMPTON People in the military and police, LGBTQ or otherwise, can of course come to Pride out of uniform—though I think those institutions are opposed to the inherent aspects of revolution and defiance of state oppression in Pride—but uniformed officers and military/ police groups marching should be banned. There is an implicit threat to most LGBTQ people in the presence of police and military in uniform, based both in history and modern instances of trauma, even without actual weapons being marched down the streets. Pride is meant to be a safe place for LGBTQ people, centering our LGBTQ-ness. By including uniformed officers, you make LGBTQ people feel uncomfortable and unsafe at Pride. And that is ridiculous. The Wellington Pride Parade this year was well-attended by corporations, and the military group was the largest one in the parade by a mile. But it was lacking in actual LGBTQ groups, like the Lilac Library or Inside Out. Our community was outnumbered by companies and the military and police at our event for our community. Banning uniformed officers at Pride doesn’t prevent those people from attending and supporting out of uniform, but having uniformed officers present hurts the purpose of the march and the people it is supposed to support. And at Pride, LGBTQ people need to take precedence. It’s the only time and place we get that, so lessening that to cater to organisations that have actively participated in the criminalisation and oppression of our community is wrong—plain and simple.

Police can be Proud, Too HAMISH DICK Every community has its uniform of sorts. Schools have ties, the LGBT+ family has its flag, Scots have kilts, sports teams their emblems, and policemen and women have their badges. Wherever one looks, it is impossible to ignore these symbols of unity, family, and solidarity. These symbols matter. And they must be celebrated. I respect the argument that policemen and women should only participate in Pride when not in uniform, but does this argument not simply erase one community in favour of another? All communities matter. As a member (or ally) of both communities, a policeman or woman must be able to proudly and enthusiastically wave the flag of the LGBT+ family while still dressed in uniform. When someone puts on a tie, when an individual from the LGBT+ community waves the flag, and when policemen and women don their uniforms, these people see themselves not simply as individuals, but as members of a greater whole—bound together by a shared identity materialised through symbol or uniform. Every Brooklyn Nine-Nine fan knows that we mustn’t overlook this value of symbolism. In the words of Jake Peralta to Captain Holt: “We’re a team, and the tie is part of that team’s uniform, right?” No wonder, then, for Captain Holt, a gay policeman who had been kept off the ‘team’ for so long, the symbolic tie was so important. Let’s continue to come together in a spirit of compassion and goodwill. Every individual matters, every family matters, and every community matters.

News.

LGBTQI Project Report Update BROCK STOBBS (HE/HIM)

Salient was unable to provide VUW sufficient time to provide comment for this issue; any responses will be published in a later issue.

Suggestions: Infrastructure: • Guided support for queer groups on campus. • Develop name and gender marker change guides. • Develop resources for people working with the queer community. • Establish a rainbow “steering group” for continuous consultation. • Establish a paid position for rainbow coordination and management at VUW. • Review policies and practices.

With the LGBTQI Project concluding nearly a year and a half ago, now is a good a time as any to look back on the progress that has been made to provide inclusive working and learning environments at Victoria. The LGBTQI Project, conducted by Project Coordinator Connor Mcleod, was a response to LGBTQIA+ students being named one of the seven groups most likely to have met challenges on campus under the Equity and Diversity Strategy.

Education: • Review ways of delivering education that is being inclusive of queer communities. • Impliment accreditation for staff trained in sexual, gender, and sex diversity. • Consolidate a list of rainbow resources and research, especially for literature conducted by VUW researchers. • Develop support for students and staff researching rainbow communities.

The project culminated in the LGBTQI Project Report, which provided insight into the experiences of LGBTQIA+ students and staff, and laid out key areas of development in which further action could be taken to transform the working and learning environments to be inclusive of Rainbow communities. The areas are: infrastructure, education, accessibility, community, health and support, and visibility. The suggestions made in the report each fall under one of these six areas.

Accessibility: • Increase the number of all-gender bathrooms on campus and develop a map of their locations. • Establish uni-wide tech support for non-binary gender markers. • Promote the consistent use of gender markers and preferred names and pronouns. • Develop and apply a “rainbow lens” to facility and service use.

Among the first recommendations to be adopted was the one to “create a paid position within the University to manage and coordinate rainbow community development”. This position is the Rainbow and Inclusion Adviser role, which began early January this year and is currently filled by Georgia Andrews.

Community: • Develop a rainbow space. • Develop an opt-in rainbow network. • Publish regular newsletters with content from VUW’s rainbow communities. • Establish annual rainbow-orientated events. • Develop relationships with both local and national tertiary queer organisations.

A few other key recommendations include the establishment of a rainbow space, support for the multidisciplinary trans-affirmative clinic at Mauri Ora, and increasing the number of all-gender bathrooms on campus. Some suggestions are at varying stages of development, although it is unknown when implementation will occur and which recommendations are being considered.

Health and Support: • Support, evaluate, and report on trans healthcare services at Mauri Ora. • Provide rainbow-specific pastoral care. • Increase the visibility of queer communities in health and support settings. • Ensure queer communities are represented in data collection.

There are many recommendations in the report, which highlights those “most frequent and/or perceived to be of great importance” by those consulted. Consultation was done via five focus groups and one pilot, in-depth interviews with participants, and a Rainbow Hui on November 20, 2018.

Visibility: • Create a guide for queer students at VUW. • Increase rainbow representation in everyday life. • Produce a university-wide awareness campaign. • Support and participate in local rainbow initiatives.

These groups consisted of staff, students, and alumni who were all Rainbow-identifying.

News.

Probing The Punters GETTING TO KNOW THE UNIQ POPULATION

Ya gay?

Every gay has two ghosts screaming inside them. One says “grow your hair out” the other says “cut your hair off ”. Which is louder?

TERFs, no or no?

What flavour of gay are you?

ABBA?

CAITLYN, 25, GENERAL EXECUTIVE (SHE/HER)

WILL, 20, SOCIAL MEDIA OFFICER (THEY/THEM)

1. Excessively.

1. Duh.

2. ELO.

2. Yea.

3. FUCK TERFS.

3. Fuck them.

4. I’ve felt Grow Your Hair Out’s howling through my bones for about a decade.

4. Currently the no-hair ghost. He’s been winning for the last six months.

5. The nebulous, yet indubitably goth one.

5. Incompetent and cooking gay.

ROSIE, 23, GENERAL EXECUTIVE (SHE/HER)

ROSINA, 21, GENERAL EXECUTIVE (THEY/THEM)

1. The gayest.

1. Pardon? Yea.

2. Every day.

2. Yea.

3. Lol ew.

3. Nah. Heck no.

4. I'm gonna get a mullet and let the two ghosts fight

to the death.

4. Can't decide.

5. Awkward finger-guns gay.

5. The nerdy kind.

APOLLON, 21, SECRETARY (THEY/THEM, HE/HIM)

VICTORIA, 21, TREASURER (SHE/HER)

1. I am UniQ’s second-ever cishet secretary.

1. Yeet. 2. Obviously.

2. Donna Summer. 3. I HATE grass!

3. Never.

4. I’m shaving my hair right this moment. 5. Mint chocolate chip.

4. Too bi, can't make decisions, keep it right in the middle. 5. The stressy, indecisive one.

“so i was locked out of my account for a week which was either a mistake by twitter or direct intervention from the universe to make me get a life - either way it was homophobia” - @danielhowell

“being bisexual means i'm attracted to women AND keanu reeves.” - @SJSchauer “kristen stewart's hair in the new charlie's angels trailer already fucked three women and didn't text any of them back” - @Kristen_Arnett “London, day 2: walked into a shop festooned with rainbows and gay pride paraphernalia and signs advertising “Top Man”, and was profoundly confused and disappointed.” - @fauxparse

IT’S PRIDE WEEK, THAT’S BASICALLY DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY FOR QUEERS TWEETS LO V IN GLY HAN D-C URAT ED

“When I was 13, I was in a play where I played a pirate, and I had to say to another 13 year old, "It's my duty to please your booty" and it made me uncomfortable then, and it makes me uncomfortable now.” - @maxyapsey

BY EMM A M AGUIRE ( S HE/HER)

@em_ma_maguire

“At midnight, Pride Month becomes Canada Day, and for a split second all gay Canadians are invincible” - @kateleth

“My 21st is the start of VUW Pride Week you're welcome” - @johaganbrebner

“tbh the main reason i transitioned was my nephew was bitten by a radioactive spider and i was NOT about to be the uncle of a spider-man” - @TheRavenousDyke

“they made all the allies wear gold lamé I don’t know if that’s how every pride does it or just ours” - @JustinMcElroy

“The number of reminders to put the seat down in the gender neutral bathroom (4) leada to suspect that at least one of my poor colleagues has fallen into the toilet during the middle of the workday. A moment of silence for that poor soul and also a reminder to put the seat down” - @BenDKnee53

“Yes, I'm a bisexual. I have sex twice a year or once every two years depending on who you ask.” - @nattencic

“having straight female friends means saying the sentence "I mean he's a great guy but he also deeply sucks" like 5 times a day” - @kathbarbadoro

“Turns out Tom doesn’t have sex with Jake in Spider-Man and the cinema won’t give you a refund if you complain. - @VanDerWhat

“I know one Wellingtonian who isn’t bisexual or on antidepressants, but I think he’s moving to Auckland.” - @ManWithDesk

HAPPY PRIDE WEEK!

Send your notices to designer@salient.org.nz MONDAY, JULY 15TH In the Rainbow Screening + Chat with the Director, Rose McMahon, and the Production Team 12–1 p.m. in the Hub New Zealand’s own youth LGBTQ+ series In the Rainbow released exclusively on TVNZ OnDemand on 20 June 2019. Director Rose McMahon and some of her production team have kindly offered to talk about the new series and to hopefully screen an episode.

TUESDAY, JULY 16 Tea Party 12 –2 p.m. in the Hub *fancy dress in encouraged, baked goods are appreciated. Come along in your fanciest ‘fit and enjoy the finer things in life, like a tea party right here on campus.

NZAF Educational Workshop 2–4 p.m. in SU229, Memorial Theatre Foyer Lee Eklund from New Zealand AIDS Foundation will be hosting a workshop about what HIV actually is, how to prevent it, the history of HIV and the efforts to help prevent it in New Zealand, and NZAF's involvement in this important movement.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 17 Movie Night: The Feels (2017) 5:30–7 p.m. in HMLT104 VicUFO are joining us in screening Jenée LaMarque’s super cute and adorable film The Feels.

Board Games Bash 5–8 p.m. at Counter Culture Board Game Cafe & Bar (211 Victoria St, Te Aro, Wellington 6011) *entry is $10 Food and fun to be had at our Board Games Bash. Delve into the vast array of board games at Counter Culture with your friends.

THURSDAY, JULY 18 Quiz Night 6–8 p.m. at the Hunter Lounge *free entry Gather a team of up to six and take part in the queerest quiz of your life.

ROTARACT NETFLIX QUIZ Do you watch too much Netflix? Love a good quiz? Come on down to the Hunter Lounge on July 23 to win yourself some prizes and raise money for a good cause.

FRIDAY, JULY 19 Takatāpui Hui - Reflections from the Intersection 1–3 p.m. in SU229, Memorial Theatre Foyer A time for takatāpui and allies to come and discuss how we can create a better community on campus for our takatāpui whānau. Featuring speakers from InsideOUT and Tiwhanawhana.

Find tickets and more information at 'Rotaract Netflix Quiz' on Facebook.

Ivy Party 9 p.m. onwards at Ivy Bar and Cabaret (63 Cuba St, Te Aro)

FEMMMPOP Femmmpop is a improvisation group for female identifying gals and non-binary pals, running every second Thursday (starting July 11) in KK203 6:45–8 p.m.

Finish off the week with night at Ivy Bar where we share the night with Ivy’s ‘Fab Friday’ activities like games and drag shows. There will also be drink specials for students.

Come give it a go and develop those improv skills.

Do you take the kind of classes that have lecturers who could read the class to sleep by reading erotica? Vic Uni has some of the greatest and worst lectures on earth. Salient is now here to critique and rate them like your local chippie. THIS WEEKS LECTURE: LAWS 213 PUBLIC LAW

Are you looking for a superfluous, closeted BA subject? Enjoy deciding which old white men—Palmer v Dicey—deserve your praise? Then do I have the course for you! For starters, this course presents the notion that “educated people ought to understand how New Zealand is governed” (course description). Thus providing the perfect opportunity to watch “law foetus” wannabes in their natural habitat gaining a sense of superiority and developing the skills to regurgitate political propaganda in everyday society. So much so, that a desperation to claim a peg lingers in the air; many students stealing them into the night, in avoidance of tussling with the law foetuses to answer questions on ridiculously repetitive course materials. The main course (or the “duck-fat-roasted potatoes” of the matter) is Dean, the eccentric food analogy abuser and master of extensive admin and talking around the point but never actually getting there. Otherwise Iconic for putting his abode for rent in the VUWLSS Facebook group and offering Skype essay feedback on his sabbatical. And Claudia, kind as a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing, leading you into a false sense of security, only to crush your hopes and dreams (of getting any holidays) in the space of 45 minutes. Despite this, the dessert of the matter is that, alike to a fine wine, this course gets better with age (although you might need a glass or two to make it through). The content of the lectures is engaging, and—despite what some law students might think—is applicable to most other subjects. With topics including administrative law, New Zealand Bill of Rights 1990, and Te Tiriti o Waitangi remaining, the outlook remains positive.

Maurice Tupua-Wilson (She/Her)

The shade of Pasifika Brown is Bold and Brilliant. So is being a Woman and Faâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;afafine.

Features CW: Homophobic Slurs Proud. Because I am a woman. I am a fa’afafine. I am unapologetic for that. Brown. Because my skin carries the stories of thousands of brown women who came before me. Pasifika. Because I know this is my culture. This is tradition. I know that there has been, and will always be, a place for me in Sāmoa. One of the most common questions I am asked is: “When did you first know that you were a fa’afafine or different?” “And what do I call you?” I respond: “Well what do you think?” Or “You can call me he or she. I don’t mind?” In Fa’asāmoa culture, there exists a third gender, called fa’afafine. This means: like a woman, a male who embodies femine and female characteristics. Fa’a—in the manner of, or like—and fafine, which means woman. A similar definition in Māori culture is whakawahine; and around the Pacific there are: ‘akava’ine or laelae of the Cook Islands, the māhū of Hawai’i, vaka sa lewa lewa of Fiji, raerae of Tahiti, fakafifine of Niue, and fakafāfine or fakaleitī of Tonga. A MEMOIR TO MY CHILDHOOD AND FA’AFAFINE JOURNEY Ever since I can remember, I knew I was different. A certain part of me that was different from other boys. I was always in the company of girls because it was my safe haven, knowing that I would be more comfortable and have some sort of relatability to females. Although I played rugby and basketball growing up, I never had a true desire or passion to play sports that were more or less catered to men. Growing up, I would always watch TV shows and films that had strong female representation or empowerment, especially women of different ethnic backgrounds. I took those strong leading women in films as inspiration of who I am today, and had the freedom to play dress-up as everything from fairies and princesses to mermaids. All this led to the way I acted and expressed myself to others growing up. But I quickly came to the realisation that “my normal” was different from what “normal” is defined within society, in the eyes of other people. My parents never treated me differently or made me feel out of place; they always made me feel normal. But sometimes, normal was bittersweet. At the age of nine, I knew that it was out of parental instincts and love that they wanted what was best for me. They just wanted to protect me.

When I was younger, my parents and family encouraged me to be free and expressive of who ‘Maurice’ was. But the more I felt encouraged, the more feminine I became, and the more pain and hurt I was receiving in spaces that hadn’t normalised my normal. I know now that they were just trying to protect me by allowing me to have a space that provided me with a sense of individuality, and a home life filled with happiness. But I was never prepared for the struggles that my idea of “normal” would bring in the outside world. One day my dad told me: “Molesi (Molesi is my Samoan name), there are cruel and mean people who will tear you down because you're different. And yes! You are different, but different doesn’t necessarily mean bad. You’re the kind of different that makes you special and unique. Embrace it, love it, and own it!” My dad’s words, while powerful—could only reach so far. The bullying and taunting started when I was at primary school and continued throughout college. I was verbally and physically abused—gaybo, faggot, fatty, etc. I would always get asked, “Are you a boy or a girl?” by fellow students. Being a fa’afafine in Sāmoa is quite different to being a fa’afafine in New Zealand, where I’m often the victim of bullying and abuse. In Sāmoa, you almost have a taste of what it’s like to be seen as normal. Unlike in New Zealand, I never had to explain or justify my identity to others. In Sāmoa, it was normal for me to take on “women’s work”— caring for family members, doing the cooking, cleaning and washing. At family gatherings, I’d perform the ceremonial tasks associated with a Sāmoan tama’ita’i (daughter)— serving the matai and presenting ‘ie toga (fine mats) during a si’i (ceremony). Unfortunately, not all parts of Sāmoan society are accepting and open-minded of fa’afafine—this is a direct result of the introduction of Christianity through colonisation of Sāmoa. The existence and history of fa’afafine were a part of Fa’asāmoa culture even before the arrival of the first missionaries in the 1830s, and colonial rulers in Sāmoa and American Sāmoa. MISREPRESENTATIONS AND GENERALISATIONS Sāmoan fa’afafine (and our counterparts elsewhere in the Pacific) have been an interest of fascination and study for many researchers. But many of their findings are from a Western perspective which leads to misrepresentation and generalisations—of not only fa‘afafine but of Sāmoan culture itself. I’m currently in my final year of studies at Victoria University of Wellington, and one of the highlights has been studying and majoring in Pacific Studies. Since PASI 101, I’ve gained awareness of and learned about the many issues and history

The shade of Pasifika Brown is Bold and Brilliant. So is being a Woman and Fa’afafine. of Pacifc cultures; which led to my passion of researching and studying the in-depth contexts of gender and sexuality in the Pacific.

“Fa’afafine have been hidden from history, misunderstood, discriminated against, and silenced. It’s important that research about us is also by us and for us.” - Ashleigh Feu’u

“My education counters any criticisms. To be a fa’afafine, you must be educated—it is our weapon.” - Dr Venasio Sele

THE SIN OF PRIDE

I realised that research carried out by Western academics is on the alleged Sāmoan tradition of raising boys as girls and the perceived societal acceptance of fa’afafine. However, Western terms of identity don’t easily define fa’afafine. The most common misrepresentation is that fa’afafine are gay or drag queens. I can’t personally speak on behalf of all fa’afafine and what they identify as. But as a general understanding, fa’afafine are those born as males who embody feminine characteristics and the roles of a female, but also may portray and look as a female. This may relate to Western terms such as transgender or crossdresser. Fa’afafine may be defined similar to western concepts within the LGBTQIA+ community, but it is a indigenous term that has significant cultural impacts on the Fa’asāmoa way of life. I identify as female. A female who is sexually attracted to heterosexual men. I see my intimate relationships as heterosexual, not same-sex. And I see other fa’afafine as females and as sisters, not as people I would have sexual relationships with. There are many ways individual fa’afafine may choose to identify themselves, just like there are multiple ways of identifying as a male or female. Gender binary was forced onto Pacific peoples as a result of colonial expansion. Our traditional constructs of gender were fluid and unbinding. We are living in a society and world that is evolving everyday; making history by the minute. Nowadays there is a gender and sexuality spectrum that consists of more than just female and male, straight or gay. I am constantly challenging the discussion and awareness of fa’afafine within the context of culture, academia, and history. It’s time to challenge our thinking and the reality of:

Last year, I had made the decision to transition and begin my journey into womanhood. It was one of the biggest decisions I have had to make, and there were a lot of factors that I had to take into consideration, such as family, faith, friends, and personal needs. But at the end of the day (and this might sound self-centred)— it’s okay to be selfish. In the kind of way in which you realise your own self-worth, and in that sometimes you need to worry about your mental wellbeing and how you feel before helping others. I didn’t transition because I wasn’t happy with who I was before; I transitioned because I love myself enough to take that leap of faith, that step of courage to accept—it’s okay to be happy. The reality is that my transition is for family and friends as well. It’s a journey of emotions, a time of healing. I believe that transitioning is more in-depth than what it means in the dictionary. There’s a metaphorical message underneath the surface. Despite the Western influences, as a Pasifika woman, pride to me is a ‘transition’. It’s having a sense of freedom and celebrating your authentic, true self. It is about being proud and honest—not only about who you are, but who you have been. It is about accepting your past self, your present self, and the person you aspire to be. Know that you are loved, and never forget how important it is to hold on to the belief that you deserve happiness in your life. We all go through our own struggles and it takes an enormous amount of courage to step out from a lifetime of abuse and discrimination to be who we were born to be. But sometimes we need to go through the storm to find our true self, because we all don’t know our worth until we experience the hardships of life. I’m blessed and honoured to be sharing a bit of my life for Pride Week, and would like to thank Salient and UniQ for the opportunity.

‘Were fa’afafine hidden from history records as part of Fa’asāmoa culture and life on purpose?’ ‘Or could it be due to colonisation—Westerners who didn’t have a cultural or equivalent understanding of who fa’afafine were in a Westernised context?’ As a Sāmoan woman and fa’afafine, writing a piece about fa’afafine highlights the importance of understanding: We are our own testimony. We have stories to share from our own journeys, our own perspectives; not researched from Westerners who have the power to misinterpret our culture and identity.

Maurice Tupua-Wilson (She/Her)

I’m a proud Pasifika Sāmoan woman and fa’afafine who takes pride in weaving an environment of educating, advocating, and challenging society on what it means to be fa’afafine. It’s time to talk. The time is now. To discuss about gender and sexuality in the Pacific. 21

Georgia Andrews (She/Her)

Childbirth. sts.

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Ultrasounds.

On the day we take our first breath, a clinician typically lifts us in the air, does a speedy exanimation, and pronounces our sex. At some hospitals, bright lights flash pink and blue on the street front to celebrate the birth of a new baby boy or girl. My parents welcomed me into the world in the 1990s. A month premature, I eventually escaped my incubator to be clothed in a pink hat and blanket, before travelling home to a childhood of pink clothes and pink teddy bears. Fast forward 16 years, to a new life at an all-girls boarding school. My health began to deteriorate in Year 12, so I began a long journey of medical tests. We eliminated the possibilities of epilepsy and brain cancer over many months. I returned to the specialist clinic for an emergency consultation and results revealed that despite my body being physically female, I was actually born with XY chromosomes. In a binary sense, cisgender females typically present with XX chromosomes, while cisgender males typically have XY chromosomes. To my shock, my doctor told me that I was “not a normal woman”; that my condition meant that I was infertile, as I did not have ovaries; that I would never be permitted to compete in the Olympic Games; and that I would never meet another person in the world like me. Their parting comment was that my diagnosis and new-found infertility had to be kept a complete secret from everybody I knew. To them, I sat uncomfortably outside of binary gender norms. Several years later, after endless research, I learned that I was intersex—an umbrella term used to describe nearly 2% of the global population born with biological variations of sex characteristics (such as hormones, chromosomes, and/ or physical anatomy) that cannot clearly be labelled under binary definitions of ‘male’ or ‘female’ bodies. In a sense, my body sits in the middle of a male/female biological sex spectrum. Intersex is often confused with transgender which is traditionally used to describe people who were assigned a sex at birth and identify with a different gender identity.

The ‘I’ in the LGBTQIA+ Rainbow acronym is often not wellknown. Very few members of the intersex community here in Aotearoa feel comfortable being ‘out’ as intersex, due to a sense of being outliers who hold shameful and unspeakable identities—often influenced by conversations at diagnosis, like the one I had. Intersex people have diverse sexualities and gender identities, and many self-identify as members of the Rainbow community. To me, an intersex presence in the Rainbow acronym reflects the collective stand we take each day as a group of marginalised and under-represented people, wishing to stand up and fight for our basic human rights alongside other members of the Rainbow community facing similar challenges. As a lesbian and intersex woman, I have faced two separate ‘coming out’ events. Both of these situations have challenged ideas of what many people in society stereotypically perceive to be a “normal woman”. Our Rainbow community sits within a beautifully diverse spectrum of sexualities, genders, and sex characteristics. We estimate that 15% of students here at Victoria University of Wellington identify as members of the Rainbow community. I have stepped into the inaugural Student Academic Services role as Rainbow and Inclusion Adviser this year. My role is to connect students with appropriate services, while strengthening the university's culture of inclusion for all members of the Rainbow community. I’m here for you— please do not hesitate to reach out to me at any point: rainbow@vuw.ac.nz or come see me in SU213. I hope you all have a wonderful Pride Week!

Rainbow and Inclusion Supporting LGBTQIA+ and takatāpui students at Victoria University of Wellington Victoria University of Wellington’s rainbow and inclusion adviser is here to support LGBTQIA+ and takatāpui students and to work with our community to make sure our campuses are a safe and inclusive environment for students of all sexualities, genders, and sex characteristics. All LGBTQIA+ and takatāpui students can contact the University’s rainbow and inclusion adviser who: supports students who have any rainbow-related questions or issues has drop-in sessions to help connect you with appropriate services can tell you about upcoming rainbow events on campus can arrange to meet with you at any of the University’s campuses.

GEORGIA ANDREWS (she/her) Rainbow and inclusion adviser georgia.andrews@vuw.ac.nz Room SU213, Student Union Building, Kelburn Campus

www.victoria.ac.nz/rainbow

New Zealand University Students' Association: Age of Consent; Equal Rights For Gays, Victoria University Gay Group, Wellington Gay Task Force, 1985, Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand.

National Gay Rights Conference, Student Union, Victoria University, 1981, Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand.

Riah Dawson (She/Her)

As a teenager, being queer was a foreign concept. I was already othered so much already, being half Māori and odd-looking, with delayed social and learning skills due to a difficult birth. By the time I was 13 I was already too much, too weird, too other and too pitied upon that finding a table within the LGBTQIA+ community was a step too far in an already-othered existence. It’s not like Queerness didn’t exist—I knew lesbian women and saw fa’afāfine at church on Sundays and in Youth Group. But again, that was for other people.

Today, I use “queer” and “bisexual” almost interchangeably. Queer is the shorthand, and bisexuality the ‘deeper’ label reserved for people who know me properly. I guess I should pick a label, but right now this is the system I have. It is better than hiding from my own reflection. It’s the label(s) that fits right—not perfect, and it could change as I grow into being an actual adult, but right now it fits like my favourite second-hand coat: worn, well loved, and perfect for me. It took a while—lots of nights full of crying and reading queer fanfiction secretly—but I am here and queer.

My mother had openly gay friends in her friendship circle who were like extended family, and no one said anything about their otherness. In fact, they seemed to like it; they seemed to thrive in it.

Comparatively, my little brother who is 14 and identifies as gay, has had a very different experience. We grew up in two different worlds of queerness: one that is comfortable and one that is uncomfortable in the face of the ghosts of my past, my own mistakes.

My mother’s type of faith in God and her Catholicism was, and still today is, enviable to me. It follows the lines of what my grandmother had taught her as a girl, with her hand-me-down Irish Catholic stoicism that God’s love was for everyone, and God’s love was best felt when people were kind to one another; that we were expected to lead with empathy and to stay kind despite all odds. Despite being a lapsed, culturally Catholic woman, it is something that I still carry with me and use in everyday life. This upbringing—this absolute shining and golden love, coupled with a faith that is the core of that love—is the ideal for queer kids. It ticks all the boxes of acceptance and yet, the crippling loneliness and fear, self-isolation, and self-hatred kept me silent for years. My teenage years from 13 to 18 were a hell of my own making. Hell isn’t other people; its you staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, willing yourself to be normal. When you hear other queer people talk about their journey, “I thought there was something wrong with me” is a classic line because it is so true. You do think something is wrong with you, like you’re an alien amongst your peers—enough to coast by dayto-day, but there is something very wrong with you and since you can see it, you’re just waiting for everyone else to as well: Not only are you a fraud, you’re a weird fraud. Because of the very limited reflections in media, literature, and other content out in the world as I was growing up, confusion and self-hatred came with the label of “bi”. I was weird within the other weirdos. I could barely do being a lesbian right because I still had fantasies of Colin Firth as William Darcy being my boyfriend in Regency Era England. Bisexuality was sneered at; seen as a phase, seen as attention-seeking or just a shorthand for being a slut—the label when you’re a man, of course, comes with its own set of challenges and assumptions. Growing up, Queerness was for other people. Other people were that kind of different, and that was okay—accepted, even—to be different. But the fear of difference is paralysing when you are young. ”Queer” wasn’t a label available to me like it is today.

My brother is his own big and proud one-man parade of gayness: RuPaul’s Drag Race reruns, eye makeup with pops of colour, and an Instagram bio that literally reads, “Hello, I am gay as hell”. His pride is something I admire, but it also makes me fearful for him, because of course there will always be bastards in this world. My world of queerness at 14 consisted of looking at girls a little too long, long-lingering looks, hugs that lasted a little too long (only drunk, though, because if you’re drunk it doesn’t mean anything), and kisses at parties. His queerness, on the other hand, is so tangible and real. Mine wasn’t real in that way for a long time. Because you don’t want to make it harder on yourself, because you already tick so many minority boxes in the census of your life. My brother came out to me when he was 13,when I had just turned 21. I had more or less come out when I was 18, forgetting to actually come out to my Dad until we were walking back to my Wellington flat from a comedy show last year—my poor father, always the last to know; partly because I want to stay his child for as long as possible, partly because it was just embarrassing. When I came out, it was alone, in hushed, fearful whispers. My brother came out excitedly and joyfully—the kind of coming out I had wanted for myself, and the one I had hoped and wished for him. My parents are well-meaning, and trying to educate themselves. They’ve never had to do this before; to deal with an out and open gay child. And it is their last child—my little brother is the youngest of five; the baby of the Dawson family. They’ve had to do a lot of research, a lot of consulting me and other queer people they know, and even have organisations like Rainbow Youth at their disposal I remember hiding a Rainbow Youth card in a notebook of mine when was 15—we had just had a sexual health class at school, with a pamphlet that basically read, “if you choose to be gay, then think about the impact it will have on your family and friends.” So having Rainbow Youth as a resource for my parents is very full circle for me.

Sophie Dixon (She/Her)

There is a balance to be found between grassroots activism and societal celebration, between protest and parade. It is something we will keep searching for, not just during February or June, but in the tiny actions that make up life.

I’ve never written about my fear or my anger, because I’ve never felt like I was queer enough, knew enough, or felt comfortable enough with my identity. I’m slowly learning that, in the words of Virginia Woolf’s famous Mrs Ramsay—“It is enough!”

I know that my experience of Pride greatly contrasts to that of takatāpui, and is different again to someone who lived through the HIV/AIDS crisis. However, it shares a common thread that walks a tightrope between defiance and celebration.

Pride has become more than a single march, or a month—it is a model for how to be. Pride is ever-evolving. Ruby, the first person I came out to, sold ribbons on behalf of Rainbow Youth. One day after Latin (the school’s hotspot of young queers), I asked if I could wear one of the ribbons: “It doesn’t matter if they aren’t for straight people, I’m not straight anyways”. This was apparently shocking, given I’d expertly played my part as the perfect private school girl. Gay didn’t fit into the equation.

I’ve learnt that Pride grows and shrinks as you meet people who uplift you and people who hand you flyers encouraging you to come back to Jesus. As you go to lesbian knitting and as you acknowledge things you have chosen to ignore. When you shove away the straight drunk girl who climbs on your lap and kisses your neck and tells you “you should like it”, and when you push yourself out of your comfort zone. As you enter relationships and leave relationships. When you walk into Ivy and when you walk into your grandmother’s house. When you pick up labels and discard them.

The ribbon was still on my blazer two years later, as I added a rainbow sash and spoke in front of 1500 people on Pink Shirt Day. I thought this meant I had accepted myself, that I was proud. Three days later, two 11-year-olds who I coached came running up to me, noticed the ribbon, and excitedly told me they too “were part of the community”. Shocked by their confidence, still shackled to the same fears that parents and the school would complain over my visibility, I completely clammed up as they jabbered me with questions. I had faked an illusion of pride, but the shame ran deep.

I wanted the world to wait to confide in me until I was sure. Until I was confident and queer enough; but I faked it so well that everyone believed I was secure in myself and my identity—that shame was for the scars of the past. I’ve learnt that chasing security is an elusive task. The queer experience is a kaleidoscope. I can struggle with accepting my identity and I can ask someone to a ball, for cocktails, into my life. I can be angry at the way I still feel compelled to create distance, to reassure my friends “no, I’m not into you”; fearful for the young girls I coached who will have to go on this same journey.

When you are the resident gay at your school, hall, or friend group, people come to confide in you, looking for answers and reassurance. They want you to reflect your pride onto them. Ruby, who creates safe spaces for LGBTQIA+ youth in Auckland (and is now one of my closest friends), knows this intimately, and it regularly happens to me. I am stunned when people came out to me—I don’t have it all figured out, and don’t know when I will.

But they will have role models in every area of life: from major blockbusters to the small screen, politicians such as Louisa Wall and Pete Buttigieg. They will have sex education that includes them and affirms them. They will have gender-neutral bathrooms and schools that drop gender pronouns entirely. They will have Kiwi poets like Chris Tse and Hera Lindsay Bird. All of this contributes to building a sense of pride that will hopefully seem innate, rather than hard fought for.

Who am I to tell them what to do? I wanted Pride to give me power, not a mantle of responsibility. Unfortunately, being visible has its consequences, including violence and hatred that is far greater than the emotional turmoil of being the keeper of secrets.

When struggling with Pride, I remember the words of Samira Wiley, who plays Poussey in Orange is the New Black, the show that was many a young gay’s sexual awakening—“We are our LGBTQ+ ancestors’ wildest dreams.”

As I write this, World Pride Month is drawing to a close. It was filled with celebration, feathers and sequins, Stonewall remembrance, and important dialogues around intersectionality and representation. Pride in New Zealand is celebrated in February, and was mired in controversy this year. Recent debate over the presence of police, and the increasingly commercialised nature of Pride exposed deep divisions.

I am proud of how far I’ve come from that terrified 16-year-old who asked for a rainbow ribbon, and then locked herself in the science bathrooms and cried for the next hour, struggling to catch her breath. Now when I come out to new people, I breathe out.

It’s clear that the queer community doesn’t have it all figured out, either.

So, Pride is a parade: Yes. Pride is protest: Inherently. Pride is power: Sometimes? Pride is recognition: Ideally. Pride is responsibility: Only if you accept it.

The first New York Pride March held on June 28, 1970 was not an act of celebration, but an act of protest. The flier declared: “It is our hope that the day will come when homosexuals will be an integral part of society—being treated as human beings.” I know that nothing is perfect, but I believe this is a future that we can grasp with both hands.

It is enough.

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NĀ KELLY RĀUA KO ROSINA TAKATĀPUI NĀ KELLY (SHE/HER) Takatāpui; the proof that for many, Queer liberation is not an unshackling, but a restoration. A restoration of mauri and identity that existed freely, prior to the systemic enforcement of anti-queer religious and political ideologies. ‘Takatāpui’ has whakapapa to the famed love story between Tūtānekai, his wāhine Hinemoa, and his ‘takatāpui’, Tiki. The telling focuses itself on the love between Tūtānekai and Hinemoa, but most tellings fail to notate the importance of Tūtānekai and Tiki’s relationship: “Tūtānekai may have loved Hinemoa, but his heart belonged to Tiki, whom he called ‘taku hoa Takatāpui’— my intimate same-sex friend […] Tūtānekai missed Tiki so much that he moaned to his adoptive father, Whakaue: Ka mate ahau i te aroha ki tōku hoa, ki a Tiki’ I am dying for love for my friend, for my beloved, for Tiki.” In ‘He Whāriki Takatāpui’, Dr Elizabeth Kerekere outlines how, as demonstrated with Tiki, the term was not merely used as a label of sexuality or gender, but instead a descriptor of wairua. She explains that our tīpuna enjoyed both sexual and gender fluidity (including whakawāhine and tangata ira tāne), but that through colonisation, this whakapapa was suppressed in the mātauranga of many, including Māori. Dr Kerekere’s mahi has also made clear that our relationships with being takatāpui, as Māori, is not the same as those of our queer-pākehā whānau. “Ko wai rātou? Managing Multiple Identities in Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual Māori”,the first and only national “strengthbased multidisciplinary” study of queer-Aotearoa found several statistically significant differences between Māori and non-Māori respondents: (1) that Māori actively seek to balance cultural and sexual identity (i.e. “being Māori ^and queer”) in a way that non-Māori do not; (2) that takatāpui today feel pressure to choose between being Māori and being queer; and (3) that Māori are more likely to have had sex with—or fantasised about—another gender than our tauiwi counterparts.

“Takatāpui”; as Māori, it tells us something significant. Firstly, that we as Māori have a need to be more open and supportive of our takatāpui whānau, and that we can do this by openly expressing our sexuality in relation to our cultural identity. Secondly, that Queer liberation is an intrinsically decolonial and Māori issue. It must carry with it a restoration of the mana specific to takatāpui identities, and it must involve Māori participation and leadership. NĀ ROSINA (THEY/THEM) Between the lines of the unknown, the neutral and the powerful There is the essence of time throughout the history of my path Between the lines Departure and distance of the unknown The waves of constant struggle to hold onto more than one part of mana and Tangata Whenua Between the lines and have I lost hope in whānau? In myself and how? The essence of the “percentage” twirling together in the system if I’m “enough” Between the lines The wairua cries out to me and questions themselves And the capacity of how far to go without being “fixed or cured” Across the lines and intertwined layers of the privilege, violence, and racism Because you see between the lines; slipping out between those “lines” building up the CHANGE CHANGE means decolonising white spaces “Takatāpui” brings the warm embrace of the intersection; the brought back precolonial concept. And I know I’m half-cast but what's important is that to “look back is to move forward” Intertwining as the identity that I AM I am connected with the universe I am Va’ine I am Mana Wāhine I am a climate warrior I am an activist I am Takatāpui

ALICE MANDER (SHE/HER) The concept of a disabled person being in a relationship is downright mind-blowing to some people. As a straight woman, navigating my sexual and romantic identity in an ableist world will only ever go as far as informing people that, yes, I can have sex and, yes, boys have wanted to date me (probably a bit of a stretch—but I like to think that’s because of my raging personality flaws, and not my disability). And yes, I can have children—I remember a doctor telling 13-year-old me that I will just have to marry a big strong man to cancel out my physical weakness. Pretty sure that’s not how genetics work? ... but ok doc. It’s true, I have it pretty easy in this area. Some people don’t have it as easy. Disabled queer people have to navigate and overcome two completely contrasting stereotypes about sexuality. As explained by Eli Clare in a keynote written for the Queerness and Disability Conference, 2002: “On one hand, as queers, we are perverse, immoral, depraved, shaped as oversexed child molesters or as invisible creatures, legislated out of existence. And on the other hand, as crips, we are entirely desexualised or fetishized or viewed as incapable of sexual responsibility. What a confounding maze of lies and stereotypes.” Disabled people are reduced to one identity: that of being disabled. As such, to be queer and disabled is something that is seen as unfathomable. Annabelle Oxley, a disabled transgender woman, explains: “We, as disabled people, are often thought to lack the inherent right of privacy that a lot of abled people take for granted. What this looks like is very often our bodies

and identity are seen as secondary. For me that means living in a constant state of anxiety and uncertainty.” The inability to accept that disabled people have intersectional identities means that they don’t have access to the sources they may need. Annabelle explains that a lot of LGBTQIA+ spaces aren’t equipped for disabled people. Similarly, a lot of disabled spaces aren’t equipped with LGBTQIA+ training or knowledge. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure whether I should be writing this column this week. Sure, I am disabled, but I am not queer. I can hope to be an ally—a title which I know is not to be taken with self-righteousness but to be earnt with humility and, always, always open ears. While it is a false equivalence to say my struggles with sexuality are the same as others, I think it is fair to say that disabled people want to love and be loved, as anyone else. As such, it is imperative for disabled people to have non-judgemental resources to allow them to maintain fulfilling romantic and sexual lives. This includes openness about sexuality and gender within the disability community, and openness about disability within the queer community. Ultimately, as Raymond Luczak writes in the introduction to QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology: “Here we are, coming out not only as queer and disabled but also as human beings in these pages… Stop keeping us at arm’s length. Interact with us. Make friends. Maybe you’ll fall in love. (Hey, you never know!)”

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CAITLIN HICKS (SHE/HER)

ADVICE FOR THE HESITANT PUB CHATTER June saw most of the Northern Hemisphere celebrate Pride month. In standard late-stage-capitalist-hellscape style, brands were eager to proclaim their ally status with tailored advertising campaigns and rainbow-laden packaging. Boomers in marketing departments were thriving as brand Twitter went absolutely berserk with reminders of which toothpaste and cereal were the most LGBTQIA+ friendly. Disparate opinions on LGBTQIA+ issues flooded the interwebs: the curious Straight Pride movement in the US and the revival of our own police-at-Pride controversy. While June has come and gone, we should continue talking about these things. Good discussions breed understanding, empathy, and accelerate change that outweighs the insidious hateful rhetoric. Conversation is critical. I approached this Queerlient with some hesitation. Pub Chat can be tricky. While it’s easy to ponder the UK’s perpetual clusterfuckery over pints, LGBTQIA+ issues demand some delicacy, and perhaps should be approached with heightened apprehension. I, personally, feel somewhat awkward—patronising, even—raising my voice to issues that don’t affect me in any direct way, lest I overpower the voices of those more personally impacted. What Pub Chat does offer, though, is a uniquely effective vehicle for casual conversations that lead to change. There is no person more honest and articulate than someone a few jugs deep. In an attempt to reconcile my enthusiasm for barstool banter with the trepidation I feel about chiming in on these issues, I’ve brainstormed a few points I might raise the next time I abandon cutting about on the Dakota dancefloor to start a passionate discussion of current affairs. GET PREPARED GLAAD, the American NGO focussed on LGBTQIA+ representation in media, has helpfully published An Ally’s Guide to Terminology. A few drinks in ya is no excuse for offensive word selection, and any Pintman Patter will necessarily prove more valuable where it is properly informed. “Sexual preference” is better replaced with “sexual orientation”, and “transition” should replace “sex

change”, for example. Knowing which terms to use significantly lessens my fear of Being A Dickhead and it might work for you too. If you feel that you can’t join a conversation for fear of saying the wrong thing, why not ask the others what the correct words are? People always appreciate the effort. TALKING POINTS LGBTQIA+ issues are all around us, but here are some questions to help tease them out in a more casual setting: In the wake of Stormzy’s momentous Glastonbury headline performance, how do you feel about his historic tweets using colourful language like “fucking fags”? Is “that’s so gay” an innocent jibe or hateful? Do police officers have a place at Pride? Does Straight Pride serve a valid purpose? Is JK Rowling’s later revelation of Dumbledore’s sexuality somewhat performative, especially in light of her recent comments that disparage transgender people? Discussions about all of the above might assist in deciding whether you go home with the 121 sadboi who finds Ru Paul’s drag race “uncomfortable”—any man who can’t get on board with Miss Vanjie can get in the bin. When you wanna hit people with some facts, try these: According to Human Rights Watch, at least 68 countries still have laws which criminalise same-sex relations. Countries like Qatar and Mauritania deem them punishable by death, while in 2017, Chad became the latest country to criminalise same-sex conduct. Brunei's new 2019 sharia penal code also introduced harsh penalties for offences relating to gay and lesbian sex and gender nonconformity. Asking your mates how they feel about the global disparity in LGBTQIA+ laws could be a catalyst for an important conversation. Humanity thrives through conversations, even (and especially) those which happen between sips. Do your research, ride out the discomfort, raise your voice, and listen to others. Cheers to that.

MAURI OR A ANNY DA SILVA FREITAS (THEY/THEM) & CATHY STEPHENSON (SHE/HER)

‘How does Mauri Ora consider inclusion and healing for Rainbow young people?’ Inclusion is defined as “the act of including someone or something as part of a group, list, etc., or a person or thing that is included.” (Cambridge Dictionary) Mauri Ora is aware that barriers exist for our Rainbow communities when it comes to accessing services across the health sector; and of the potential detrimental impacts to health caused by discrimination and oppression, namely: transphobia, biphobia, intersexphobia, and homophobia. Attention, therefore, has been actively placed by the Mauri Ora team on the importance of visibility as an important step in working towards inclusion in supporting our Rainbow students and their communities, who all too often experience invisibility in (what we are aware are) largely heteronormative public spaces. We are also aware that when a student believes that a service reflects them and their experience, they are more likely to access the service. The Mauri Ora team—including the support staff, counsellors, and health providers—have committed to increasing their knowledge and understanding of issues that challenge and/or information that tautoko our Rainbow students. Mauri Ora runs a Rainbow student and staff allies reference group, who is committed to reducing barriers to inclusion for our Rainbow students. They meet quarterly to contribute and inform the ongoing development of service processes. ACCESSING TRANSGENDER AND GENDEREXPANSIVE HEALTHCARE AT MAURI ORA Affirmative healthcare practice focuses on providing trans and gender-expansive patients/clients with information that supports collaborative decisionmaking in relation to health outcomes (biological, psychological, and social). This includes information related to:

GENERAL HEALTHCARE AND PRESCRIPTIONS If a student wants general support and/or advice, has medical needs, or requires ongoing follow-up for their hormone therapy, contacting your usual GP or nurse is advised. They will be able to provide ongoing prescriptions for you, and arrange referrals to other supports and services as needed (e.g. a physio team who can assist with safe transitioning—or the hospital team, if you are considering surgery). If you do not have a regular GP or nurse, you can be assigned one when you call Mauri Ora to make your appointment. STARTING GENDER-AFFIRMING HORMONE THERAPY FOR THE FIRST TIME A student can book an initial appointment with either Dr Rona Carroll (She/Her) or Dr Cathy Stephenson (She/Her), who have both done extra training in this area of health provision. They will talk you through what happens regarding the “readiness for hormone” process and information. TRANSITION-RELATED SUPPORT Currently, our counsellors are skilled at providing support and Anny da Silva Freitas (They/Them/She/ Her) has GSRD training, competence, and knowledge in supporting Rainbow students who are requesting hormone care, counselling, and educational support. Nikki Hector (She/Her), who is our Māori, Pasifika, Rainbow & International Outreach Nurse, can help with information and advice, and can also facilitate appointments with the rest of her team as needed. “To be seen and heard as one is, and not how others wish us to be, is one of the most valuable gifts to bestow. Visibility can lead to awareness, awareness can lead to knowledge, and knowledge can lead to greater visibility.” - Anny da Silva Freitas HE WAKA EKE NOA A canoe which we are all in with no exception.

V UWSA

SWAT

GEO ROBRIGADO (HE/HIM)

ROSINA BUCHANAN (THEY/THEM)

THE PROCESS OF COMING OUT Read by his oldest brother in my absence, here is an excerpt of the best man speech I wrote for my best friend on his wedding day, three years ago:

Coming out can be a feeling of release, of telling the world who you are meant to be/whatever sexual orientation you are. It can also be scary at first, because you wonder if people will love you regardless—but you get to a point where you have had enough of caring what others think and grow out of your “closet” of a shell.

Dearest Kiks, You’ve always told me that when you marry your Prince Charming, you will be the most handsome guy on the planet. I am pretty sure you are right now. Partly it’s because I am not there, so by default you are the most handsome guy, but mostly because you finally smashed all the walls that stood in your way.

This is my story. My realisation came from a gut instinct, rather than an experience. When I reflect on who I was throughout my life, I recognise that I’m definitely not heterosexual, but I see beyond gender/sexuality. I am an outward supporter of the LGBTQIA+ community and have two mothers who are happily married.

But of all the walls you’ve smashed, the one that I’m most proud of is the notion that you were not worthy to be loved. A close-minded and traditionalistic society told you that because you were gay, you cannot and should not be loved. They planted those seeds in your mind so deep that it became your reality for the past 30 years. Now you are married to your Prince Charming, as you’ve always dreamed of. You learned how to be loved and how to love, and that’s what’s most important. Your marriage to your now-husband is just proof of that.

I first recognised this part of me while I was involved in a church environment. This made me so uncomfortable that I felt like I had to hide. Deciding to leave was one of the best decisions of my life, and after moving back to Wellington I found a church that is more than just tolerant of people from the rainbow community. I’d say that also because of my cultural/indigenous backgrounds, I’d consider myself eclectic.

I know I am not losing my best friend, but I know I’m gaining another one—my best-friend-in-law. And this is what pride means to me at this moment. I’m proud that my best friends are showing the world that love truly wins. Your marriage is proof that love is stronger than any kind of hate, homophobia, or bigotry.

Recently, I recognised that there is a comfort in using the pronouns “they/them”; being undefined by binary concepts—I can be masculine and feminine at the same time.

Congratulations, and see you two lovebirds soon! Love, Geo

Remember that if you’re in a position of questioning your sexuality/gender, it is gonna be a journey. You don’t need to seek anyone’s validation, so take some time in coming out gradually, or straight away if you’re ready. Find people who will have your back, and don’t just see you for your identity but also as a person. Once you are coming out, accepting yourself is more important than anyone’s validation. One day there will be someone in your life in the same situation as you and you’ll know what to do. As a queer/non-binary person of colour speaking: Take your time and don’t fill from an empty cup. You cannot save the world all at once but you can change the system by being the change.

After Trump became president, these lovebirds chose to leave America and remain happily married in the Netherlands. Happy Pride Week everyone!

TARA Ó SÚILLEABHÁIN (SHE/HER) On May 30, Melania Geymonat and her partner Chris were the target of a homophobic attack by five teenage boys on a London bus. The pair were attacked after they refused the boys’ demands to kiss for their entertainment. The story was shared all over the world by news agents including BBC, The Guardian, The Washington Post, The Irish Times, The NZ Herald, and CNN.

by the queer community, with Pornhub releasing figures that show lesbian porn is at the top of their “most viewed categories of 2018”. As a femme-presenting queer woman, I know I’m not alone when I recount the times I’ve been asked to join a friend of a friend for a threesome. Or when I’ve matched with a girl on Tinder, only to find that she’s looking for someone to join her and her boyfriend.

Prime Minister Theresa May responded with: “Nobody should ever have to hide who they are or who they love and we must work together to eradicate unacceptable violence towards the LGBT community.” London mayor Sadiq Khan described the attack as disgusting and misogynistic, and Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn said the assault was "absolutely shocking".

Chris makes a point of mentioning that she and Melania are both white, cisgender women. She does so because women of colour experience higher rates of sexual assault than white women, and the same is true for trans women, who experience higher rates than cis women.

Laura Russell, Director of Campaigns, Policy, and Research at equal rights charity Stonewall, said that "Government research found that more than two thirds of LGBT people said they had avoided holding hands with a same-sex partner for fear of a negative reaction from others”, and the UK metropolitan police confimed that there has been a rise in homophobic hate crime since 2014, with 2308 attacks occuring in 2018. That’s an average of over six attacks every day, yet this one in particular gained coverage all over the world. “Question why the photo of two attractive, white cisgender women compelled you to post about Pride for the first time.” That was what one of the victims, Chris, had to say about the matter—and there is a lot to unpack here. Let’s start with the fact that Chris and Melania were attacked after refusing to kiss for a group of boys. The sexualisation of same-sex female relationships has been long experienced

What happened to Chris and Melania was disgusting, so the intention of this column is not to take away from the seriousness of this event, but to shed light on just how prevalent this type of violence is. Chris makes a good point—would the story have gained as much coverage had the victims been women of colour, nonbinary, or trans women? The sexualisation of women in media is contributing to a skewed vision of what it’s like for queer people experiencing homophobia. As for those of us queer folk being who are being sexualised in this way, it can feel like our identity is being attacked. I remember in high school feeling like I was fraud for calling myself queer when I was just as attracted to men as I was to women, because people told me that I must be doing it to attract the attention of men. It can often feel as though something that is personal and integral to who we are becomes cheapened and questioned by society. My sexuality is for me. Who I love and what I choose to do with the people I love is between myself and them. We are not walking pornography, and we are not here to be entertainment to anyone else.

Burn The heat won’t kill me because I was born in midsummers like these, no, it’s the waiting looking at the space you you are always leaving Read this before you go, won’t you? chant it into your skin, like a prayer lips pressed to your fingertips, like prayer just pretend I’m there, won’t you? you could kill me where I stand, friend of mine, you are the beat in my chest, something I crave with some type of contempt, I walk that thin line lover of mine, you kill me every fucking time

- Riah Dawson

Send your limericks, elegies, and odes to poetry@salient.org.nz

TE LEVIS IO N IN TH E RA I NB OW REVI E W: E M M A M AG U I R E ( S H E / H E R )

In the Rainbow is a Kiwi queer anthology series, directed and (mostly) written by Rose McMahon, a teen entrepreneur. Featuring real stories from real Kiwis, this seven-part series tells seven different queer stories, for each of the seven colours of the rainbow. I found a lot of solace and relatability in this series, speaking as a queer person myself. The stories feel grounded and true, and in just under ten minutes each, they’re more of a slice-of-life piece than a long-form narrative. Some of the acting is a smidge overenthusiastic, and some of the dialogue a little heavy-handed, but a lot of the actors are queer young people just starting out, and it’s obvious that their performances come from the heart. Episode one, RED/PASSION, opens with Ben having an intimate encounter in the afterglow of a house party with another young man. His drunk sister, however, interrupts things, and claims that Ben’s being forced into doing things he doesn’t want to do. Episode two, ORANGE/HUMOUR, uses fantasy stories to explain how two sisters are feeling about their sibling coming out. Episodes three and five—YELLOW and BLUE—are around families, and children figuring out how to come out to their parents, while episode four, GREEN, is based around jealousy. I’ve not finished the series yet, but so far it’s got an excellent commitment to visual storytelling and tries some unique things that I’ve not really ever seen in television before.

YELLOW/WISDOM, is my favourite episode of the series. Frank wants to come out to his family, but can’t bring himself to do it. While preparing his family’s house for a move, he is asked to go through his grandfather’s old belongings, to see if there’s anything that he should keep. What he discovers is a series of letters that show that his grandfather had a passionate relationship with another man, until that man was killed in WWII. Frank realises that with his family’s history behind him, he has the strength to come out. I adore how this episode was written. Instead of Frank just reading the letters sent to his grandfather, his grandfather’s lover appears in the space and reads the words to him. It’s almost heartbreaking to see the lover change as he spends more time in the war, and how his final message sent from the Front is not another letter, but a telegram saying that he died in the war. I appreciate the tactility of the moments—it’s very inventive to see a historical character interacting with a modern space, and it makes the relationship between Frank and the ghosts of his family’s past feel far more real. In the Rainbow needs a little tightening up in some aspects, but it is an incredible effort for a young creative, and I look forward to seeing the second season when it comes out. New Zealand doesn’t have much in the way of queer-focussed content, so I’m incredibly pleased that this show is so well made. Check it out on TVNZ on Demand.

F OO D SEXY SA LT Y C H OCO L AT E C H I P CO O K I E S REVIE W: SA L LY WA R D ( S H E / H E R )

There are many ways to skin a cat/bake a biscuit. Chocolate chip cookies are all about texture—chewy, crunchy, doughy, or all of the above. The texture is determined by multiple factors: Has the butter been melted (chewy), or creamed (doughy)? Is the temperature of the dough chilled (softer in the middle and crunchy on the outside), or room temp (flatter and crunchier)? These are soft on the inside and crunchy on the outside. At the end of the day, you can’t go wrong with melted chocolate in sweet dough. If you freeze roll-out dough, you can bake and eat them on a whim. You need these.

CLUES Preheat oven to 180°C and line two baking trays with baking paper. Melt butter over medium heat (or microwave for 40–60 seconds). Cool. Pour butter into large mixing bowl, add sugars, egg, and vanilla. In a separate bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Incorporate dry ingredients into butter mixture. Fold in chocolate and nuts.

INGREDIENTS 170g butter 1 ¼ C brown sugar, packed 1 egg, whisked 1 tsp vanilla extract 2 ¼ c flour 1 tsp baking soda ¾ tsp baking powder ½ tsp salt 1 C dark chocolate, chopped ¾ C chopped nuts, optional (hazelnuts, pecans, walnuts)

Chill for ten minutes before scooping rounds of dough onto baking sheets (about 2–3 Tbsp). Sprinkle with extra salt. Makes about 16. Bake for about 12 minutes, or until the tops of the cookies are just starting to crack.

MUS I C D ED ICATE D REVIEW: SO P H I A K ATS O U LI S ( S H E / H E R )

For some candid pop music that isn’t riddled with indulgent trap high hats and crass writing, look no further than to the queen of everything herself, Carly Rae Jepson. Almost half a decade since “Call Me Maybe” graced the world’s ears and seared itself permanently into our psyches, Jepson has returned with Dedicated. After the success of her previous album, E•MO•TION, which featured the skilled hands of Dev Hynes and Rostam Batmanglij of Vampire Weekend, Jepsen had a lot of hype to live up to. Jepsen’s obvious passion for songwriting (and perhaps the high expectations of her fans) birthed this fifteen-track collection, a number that was whittled down from two hundred. Originally penned as ‘Music to Clean Your House To’, Dedicated is an uplifting album that pays homage to the singer’s love for 80’s disco and cheery romanticisms. The opening track “Julien” showcases Carly moving away from the belting vocals heard in E•MO•TION. Jepsen’s voice is breathier, huskier; giving it a sultry quality as she croons until “the last breath that [she] breathes”. The beat and the synths are catchy without being overly decorative, and the chorus is lightly embellished with fun vocal effects. Carly dips her toes into a sexier persona, embracing the lustful themes of her songwriting. It’s hot, but not excessively performative. Carly embraces her sexuality in a way that seems self-loving and genuine—an act that is refreshing in a time where pop artists seem to turn to hyper-sexualisation in order to maintain their relevance. “Now That I Found You” feels like a reprise to “Call Me Maybe”, radiating positivity and hopefulness. The verses are sweet, and supported with some well-produced pop instrumentals; however, they build up to a chorus that lacks the same va-va-voom that was delivered in “Call Me Maybe”. Though the album possesses more polish than her earlier hits, it seems that her penchant for an irresistible pop chorus has been slightly lost in the process.

In “Too Much”, a song about excessiveness in life and love, Carly charms with simple yet relatable lyrics. The self-proclaimed ‘queen of overthinking’ preaches the virtue of accepting one’s ‘extra-ness’ over a mild EDM beat. However, the most unique songs on this album are the ones that stray away from the overused pop-electronica sound and feature more funk influences. This is best exemplified by the song “Everything He Needs”, where a keyboard/bass guitar duo really brings the groove. It’s fun to see a somewhat theatrical element here, especially given Carly’s real-life experience on Broadway, and it really adds to her storytelling ability. In a similar vein is “Feels Right”, which features early 2010s’ Electric Guest, a band that made waves in indie-pop. We even get an echo of that infamous saxophone riff from “Run Away With Me”. *Cue war flashbacks of that saxophone-playing seal* I have a lot of respect for Carly Rae Jepson. The fact that she continues to present her audience with such quality music—and hasn’t fallen victim to the poison apple that is one-hit-wonder memedom—is a feat in itself. For me, however, this album doesn’t show enough growth following E•MO•TION. Though we can appreciate that Carly doesn’t desperately push boundaries in her music for the sake of it, I would have liked to have heard some of the stranger materials that surely must exist within the two hundred songs written for this album. The lack of gloriously indulgent choruses or instrumental flourishes leaves more to be desired. Jepsen pleases in Dedicated. This is a very good pop album. But hopefully we will see her musical vision move to more interesting places in the future, because she’s definitely capable.

FAS HI ON QUEER FASH I ON REV IEW: NI NA W E I R ( S H E / H E R )

There’s nothing straight people love saying more than “but you don’t look gay?!”—a comment which is always phrased like it’s a compliment. Like I should be grateful that they think I belong to their rich culture of cargo shorts and “rosé all day” tank tops. Then, after I inevitably spend two minutes justifying the fact that my ability to like girls is no way hindered by the fact I have long hair, like dresses, and have no obvious facial piercings; I’m always hit with “So how do you tell if another girl is into girls?” To settle that question once and for all, I’m dedicating this review to the ‘invisible’ fashion of queer femme women. In New Zealand, the way men present themselves is overscrutinised past the point of any sense. Any clothing article beyond an All Blacks jersey or a pair of gumboots are citable evidence of homosexuality; see John Key and the infamous “gay red top” comment. But for women, unless you’re standing on the rainbow crossing on Cuba Street with your tongue down another girl’s throat, you’re straight. When it comes to fashion, you shouldn’t have to present yourself as a stereotype to have a place in the world. Queer fashion is more than a rainbow t-shirt. It’s whatever’s worn by queer people—which is a ridiculously broad category. Imagine if we gauged the whole of the heterosexual population against a couple of individuals’ fashion choices. The next time a guy mentions his girlfriend, try asking: “Oh, you’re straight? How come you’re not wearing a Monster Energy snapback and DC skate shoes then?” Keeping that in mind, this list is fallible, but as scientifically valid as any study compiled through a very serious research process (i.e., stalking the Instagram of everyone I’ve ever dated and browsing Tinder). The only possible way to start a list on lesbian/bisexual fashion would be with denim. If you’re on a night out, scope the club for

the girl wearing a denim jacket. The chances of her being gay are almost as high as the chances of her being overheated and quite sweaty. Double denim: gay. Denim with patches and pins: very gay. Denim with feminist patches and pins: … you get it. Denim overalls are the epitome of lesbian formal wear, so if you see a girl channelling Donna from Mamma Mia, tell her “but you look straight” at your own risk. It is a fact that every queer woman has watched the San Junipero episode of Black Mirror and thus lives for 80’s fashion. If it’s in the grey zone between tacky and fashionable, it’s probably owned by a queer woman: David Bain sweaters, baggy corduroy pants, ironic oversized souvenir t-shirts, etc. A clear absence of long or acrylic nails. My mom reads these reviews so I’m not elaborating on this point anymore. Docs, especially when paired with a nose piercing. Getting into big emotional deliberations with a girl you’re dating and watching your tears slide off her waterproof Docs is a coming-of-age ritual every queer woman must go through. The critical reader may point out that every girl in Wellington has Docs and a nose ring, and to that I would reply—yup, and I have a lot of very misguided crushes. An obviously DIY-ed accessory. To quote my mother, “Lesbians are all crafty because their minds are so active and creative. It’s why they get bored of men.” Wild but true. Queer girls love handsewn tote bags, crystal necklaces, and floral stick-and-pokes they’ve done themselves. To any straight girl who’s reading this in a huff because you also dress like this—my deepest apologies. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to have people make assumptions on your sexuality because of the way you present yourself, it sounds terrible :/

F IL M B EACH RATS REVIEW: B R O C K STOBBS ( H E / H I M )

It’s in Brooklyn in the summer that we meet Frankie (Harris Dickinson), a boy on the cusp of adulthood. Frustrated with his home life in South Brooklyn, he spends his days travelling to Coney Island to hang with his friends at the beach and fairgrounds. He is one of the eponymous Beach Rats. However, it isn’t on the beach that we first see Frankie, but the basement of his family home. Hidden away underground and in the dark, Frankie takes advantage of the privacy to trawl through gay hook-up sites. Not interested in boys his own age, he seeks out older men to have sex with. What is clear to the audience (i.e., that Frankie is attracted to men), is something he has not yet been able to reconcile himself. This lack of reconciliation sees Hittman expertly split Frankie’s life into two distinct lives. It is easy to tell which life Frankie enjoy more—or at least, which one he thinks he should enjoy more. Not a man of many words, Hittman portrays Frankie’s dual lives as visually and sonically separate, reflecting how Frankie perceives them. When he is out and about (but not yet out), Frankie is in the open-air setting of Coney Island. Wind and waves, festivities and fireworks consume your senses. It is a lie, but Frank is living it. Chilling with his friends, he responds to their insistences with performative acts of heterosexuality and forms a relationship with Simone, played perfectly by Madeline Weinstein (poor girl has played the beard to the closeted/questioning male twice now, but oh boy, does she do it well). They flirt and have fun under fabulous lighting.

At home, he is trapped. The setting is dark and grungy. He creeps around his ailing father, not wanting to disturb him and further plunge himself into this haunting reality. His mother’s innocent prying sees him retreat further into already muted self. And his younger sister’s burgeoning sexuality puts him at unease, as he is unable to explore his sexuality in a similar manner. Home is also where he begins his search for sexual companions—but never where he ends up with them. It is, however, where he ends up with Simone, the girl from his other life. He is unable to seal the deal because, as he is going to find out, these lives cannot co-exist. Coming in at 90 minutes, Hittman’s sophomore directorial outing is a feature full of contrast and competition. Hittman shows us the two lives Frankie has built for himself and his struggles to maintain them, and Dickinson achieves this portrayal not with his words but with the subtlety he brings to Frankie. The constant unease, the contained emotion, a boy in his head a bit too much—it will be familiar to many. Where the bulk of the film sees him resist the impending convergence, the ending offers no such relief. A trap of his own design, Frankie allows these competing ideas to slam into one another for fear of destroying the balance he worked so hard to build. It is graphic and uncomfortable, but not beyond belief. And if I’m being completely honest, somewhat expected. When your character’s life is reduced down to two compartmentalised states, the only logical climax is their collision. And unfortunately for Frankie, collide is exactly what they do.

PO DCAS T PHILO SOP H I Z E TH I S! REV IEW: YO ON ( H E / H I M )

Critical thinking is one of the most important skills any human being can pick up, and philosophy is the perfect gateway for this. From dealing with existentialism to morality and logic, philosophy is a diverse field that helps us see, understand, and question the very essence of the world that we experience. What I like most about Stephen West’s Philosophize This! is how vast the range of topics are, from pottering through the history of philosophy to diving into advanced arguments. This variety appeals to the layperson, the well-versed corduroy-clad expert, and everyone in between. West also encourages the listeners to dig deeper into the topic he is talking about, offering essential reading and listening materials that elaborate on the topic. While Philosophize This! nosedives into a vast variety of ideas, the dive isn’t as deep (or comprehensive) as a philosophy snob would like. I would have liked it if West conveyed information in a more objective and informative way; he comes across as haughty, and his delivery may be a bit too fast for someone dipping their toes into the philosophical water. On top of that, some of the analogies used in the series are just factually incorrect—for example, in Episode 91, West talks about carbon in charcoal being converted entirely into heat energy (if you’ve taken any chemistry paper, you would know that this would make your lecturer cry). Errors like this is something you do NOT want in an educational podcast.

Despite all of the negative aspects of Philosophize This!, though, I listen because this podcast is genuinely a labour of love. Stephen West came from an abusive household in Alabama. He was kicked out of home aged 16, having no home, barely any clothes, trying to avoid foster care. He hadn’t studied philosophy in a classical sense, but had taken one philosophy paper at a local community college. In his words, “[Philosophy] changed me forever”. At age 18, he didn’t have parents to look up to, so his role models were Hume, Kant, and Hegel—whose writings nurtured his curiosity regarding the world and his introspective temperament. In the early days of the podcasts, he would read hundreds of books, transcribing sources, structuring episodes, recording and editing, all after his 11-hour work shift every day. The love, passion, and enthusiasm that oozes out of this podcast keeps me engaged and gets me excited about philosophy, every time I put an episode on. To be brutally honest, there is no money in philosophy. Those who spread the word of philosophy do so because of their passion for the subject and do so with an enthusiasm seldom seen in most intellectual professionals. If you choose to listen to this podcast, I hope it sparks an inquisitive fire in your mind.

DISTRACTIONS FOR YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS

LAST WEEK'S SOLUTION

HOME THEATRE

GOOD NEWS POP QUIZ 1. At a high school graduation ceremony, which American singer promised internships to 114 students after they graduated? 2. The youngest ever Young New Zealand Farmer of the Year is how old? The answers to the clues marked by stars have something in common.

3. At what age did two senior citizens in Ohio decide to get married after dating for one year?

DOWN

1. Fire-based weapons sometimes used for deforestation (13) * 7. Wildebeest (3) 8. Wild-sounding title for a 1906 Upton Sinclair novel about the meatpacking industry (3,6) 10. State where many Stephen King novels are set (5) 11. And also not (3) 12. Device for an 80’s audiophile (8) 17. It might be pitched in a field (4) 19. Unhappy; macabre (4) 20. Beatles hit from the first side of Abbey Road (9) * 21. Actor and nonbinary icon Miller (4) 22. Ingredient in many margaritas (4) 24. Haste; lack of forethought (8) 29. One of 24 in the human body (3) 31. The only prime triangular number (5) 32. Lorde song with the line "Every perfect summer's eating me alive" (9) 33. Call for help (3) 34. Mules... or what the answers to the starred clues are, considering what they're carrying? (4,9)

1. Form of nuclear power generation (6) 2. One who worshipped Huixtocihuatl (goddess of 22-Across) (5) 3. Leading suits, for short (5) 4. Doctor played by Hugh Laurie (5) 5. Should (5) 6. Balanced; uniform (4) 7. Mathematical study of strategy and cooperation (4,6) * 9. Greek figure who stole fire; title of a film in the Alien franchise (10) * 13. High points (5) 14. Shiny material (5) 15. Gemini, commonly speaking (5) 16. Basis of huevos rancheros (4) 18. Nicholas II was the last (4) 23. Like seventeen of the words in this puzzle— but not this one (6) 25. US president John or John Q. (5) 26. Poetic form used often by Kobayashi Issa (5) 27. Leering at (American spelling) (5) 28. Fashion sense (5) 30. Colour on the French flag, along with rouge et blanc (4)

1. Pharrell Williams 2. 22 years old 3. John Cook Sr is 100 and his wife Phyllis is 102!

ACROSS

WORD OF THE WEEK: "PRIDE" TE REO MĀORI

whakahī NEW ZEALAND SIGN LANGUAGE

SUDOKU SUDOKU HOW I LOVE YOU AND HATE YOU EASY PEASY

F*CK YA LIFE UP Puzzle 1 (Very hard, difficulty rating 0.80)

Puzzle 1 (Easy, difficulty rating 0.36)

6 9

8 1

6 2

7 1

5 4

1 6

5 3

8 3

7 9

6 2

Generated by http://www.opensky.ca/sudoku on Wed Jul 10 05:18:35 2019 GMT. Enjoy!

Generated by http://www.opensky.ca/sudoku on Wed Jul 10 05:17:53 2019 GMT. Enjoy!

How Local Government can affect you: (& why you should vote) waste systems

public transport

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cost of gp / nurse visits

Climate action

Are you voting ready?

elections.org.nz 45

ASHOUT- OUT TO T HE AS T RO LO GY GAYS

ARIES

LIBRA

Oof, not gonna lie, this week might be a little rough—anticipate some complications amongst your work fam, and brace yourself for a brush-up with an authority figure. This weekend might bring out some ugly feelings in your love life, but at least you’ll get some inspiration on Friday on what to do about your family/living situation.

Strap on your seatbelts, guys, gals, and enby pals—it’s gonna be a bumpy ride. You have the perfect opportunity for an insta-attraction, meet-cute moment, courtesy of a friend… but that requires you to be open to it. A social situation will throw you for a loop on Thursday, and you’re probs gonna feel a bit defensive on the weekend.

SCORPIO

TAURUS

Be careful with your words on Tuesday, for people will take them to heart. You’ll be able to see straight through the lies this week; promise me you’ll use your powers for good. Just remember—your need to be right isn’t worth hurting the feelings of the people you care about. The weekend will finally allow you to see both sides.

You’re fiercely loyal and proud, but sometimes the best thing is to step back instead of pushing through. This week, feel the fear of leaving your comfort zone and do it anyway. Question everything, and the weekend will reward you with answers to your concerns. Try expressing your feelings; you’ll be surprised at how easy it comes.

SAGITTARIUS

GEMINI

This week has got you feeling extra spicy—dare I say salacious? But don’t make promises you can’t keep. Follow your heart to stay in the flow (whatever that means), and spend the weekend hanging out with yourself—you’re pretty dope. Also, back up all your stuff across all your devices... and I do mean all of it. Y’know. Just in case.

Your complexity and depth will attract curious cats at the start of the week, but by Thursday some might decide it’s a bit too much for them. Think about your communication style—are you connecting in the way you want to be connecting? Take inventory of the people in your life, and show that you appreciate ‘em.

CAPRICORN

CANCER

Stay objective to avoid getting into trouble this week. As tempting as it is to obsess over things, some people are just not worth your time. The world will seem extra deep, dark, and mysterious this week, making it the perfect time to fall down that Reddit/Wikipedia/Youtube/Creepypasta rabbit hole. Just don’t let the fascists get ya.

“I don’t knooow / Why does love do this to me?” will be stuck in your head this week as you grapple with commitment and loneliness in a major way. Here’s a top tip: Let go of that one emotion/behaviour you know is holding you back. You can have that one for free. Spend the weekend expressing yourself and learning new things.

AQUARIUS

LEO You’re starting the week strong, with your wit and audacity taking centre stage both on- and offline. There’s a relational clash on its way midweek, but talking it out with trusted confidants will help you to bounce back by Friday. The weekend is for recharging alone, so love yourself like Lizzo wants you to love yourself.

Relationships come and go, but friends will have your back no matter what. Say yes to new experiences; they will lead you to some really cool people who just “get” it. Your rigidity will rub someone the wrong way on Thursday. This weekend, beware of falling back into old patterns. And hey—there will always be another happiness.

VIRGO

PISCES

“If you don’t go over the top, how are you meant to get to the other side?” Whatever feelings you’ve got, this week will simply intensify them. It’s all about healing and releasing this week, so go back to basics and nurture the person you are at your core. (P.S. You’re low-key killing it in the group chat! Keep on keeping on.)

You might be feeling a bit disconnected from your friend(s) at the start of the week. It might take you the whole week to uncover the truth and get to the core of the problem, but it’ll be worth it in the end. Friday is a good time to get some writing done; be open to meeting new people (including online). Your feelings are valid.

CONNECT THE DOTS

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