Pride and Prejudice 2022

The end of June marks the end of Pride month 2022. All those rainbow swatches over company logos will vanish for another year and our LinkedIn feeds will be a little less colourful. For some of us, rainbows, LGBT+ visibility and Pride are more than a 30-day event in the middle of the year, for some of us they're part of who we are, they're part of our authentic selves. Pride is part of who I am as a gay man, which means it’s part of who I am at work.

This year Pride marks the 50th anniversary of LGBT+ activists first taking to the streets of London to march in protest at the prejudice, discrimination, and violence our community faced. Whilst I’m not old enough to have been on that particular march, I am old enough to have been alive when it was still a criminal offence to be gay in England (homosexuality was decriminalised in England in 1967 but is still punishable by death in five countries and parts of two others, while a further 70 imprison citizens because of their sexual orientation). I’m old enough to have lived through a period when discriminatory, anti-gay legislation was brought in by a government, looking to create a distraction and find a convenient minority scapegoat, during a difficult economic period.

My first Pride march was a protest, yet I had no idea how what I was protesting would directly affect me in the workplace. It was the summer of 1988, I had just graduated. The LGBT+ community was suffering in the height of the AIDs crisis and the Government had just introduced legislation (Section 28 of the Local Government Act) stating that a local authority "shall not intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality" or "promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship". I was young, I was angry and I was scared for my future.?

(Below: My second Pride, Brockwell Park London 1989)

A few weeks after that Pride march, I started my first job as a graduate landscape architect at a local authority. The first week’s induction covered ‘equal opportunities’ (we call it Equity, Diversity and Inclusion now). It covered issues of gender, race, religion, and disability. There was no mention of sexuality. There couldn’t be a mention of sexuality, by now it was considered illegal for a local authority to be seen as mentioning sexuality. The equal opportunities training showed me that some people were more equal than others and that I was the least equal of all.

My first week also showed the level of homophobic and misogynistic ‘banter’ that was a daily feature of the office environment. I was young, I was junior and I was scared, so I hid my authentic self. I avoided Friday chats about what people were doing at weekends, I avoided the corresponding chats on Mondays, I avoided talks about holidays and friends and TV and films and my social life. I kept my boyfriend a secret from those I worked with. It takes constant vigilance and a lot of energy and effort to hide all of that, all the while being confronted by, and trying to avoid, the homophobic banter. That effort and energy could have gone into my work, it didn’t. It affected my mental health. My workplace was a toxic, unsupportive environment and as a result it lost a promising young designer. I did the only positive thing I could do in such an environment and resigned, just five months after starting there.

Earlier in the year, Manchester had witnessed the largest LGBT+ demonstration ever, when 25,000 people took to the streets in protest over the Section 28 legislation. I decided I wanted to work in Manchester and not for a local authority! I applied to a small private practice that had just been set up in the centre of the City. The address I was heading to for my interview – 105 Princess Street, gave no hint about what that location would mean to me. I turned into the adjacent side street to park and found myself on Bloom Street. The side of 105 Princess Street was the entrance to La Cage night club, next door was New York-New York, one of Manchester’s oldest LGBT+ pubs and over the road was Clone Zone, one of the country's first LGBT+ shops. Bloom Street was the forerunner to Manchester’s Canal Street (one block over) and was the heart of the City’s LGBT+ community at the time. I knew I HAD to get this job!

My interview went well, I got on with the two Partners, Edward and Pauline and before I’d got to the door to leave, they had made their decision. I was offered, and immediately accepted, the position of Junior Landscape Architect at Randall Thorp!

(Below: The new Junior Landscape Architect at Randall Thorp, C. 1990)

A new job, a new city and a new me. I vowed I would never hide my authentic self at work again. Rather than any big gay announcement I decided to talk openly about the things I’d spent so much effort and energy avoiding in my previous workplace. I talked about my plans to see Mark in Sheffield at the weekend, about Mark coming to see me at the weekend, about planning a holiday to Gran Canaria with Mark, about seeing Bronski Beat at The Leadmill with Mark, about what film me and Mark saw at the Corner House. By the end of the first week, Edward and Pauline were in no doubt about my authentic self and had a pretty good idea what my boyfriend’s name was! And in turn, they made no big announcement about me being gay. They told me how they loved the vibrancy of this part of the City, how much fun it was to hear disco music?blasting out from the bars and clubs next door when they were working late (a high energy mix of ‘Its Raining Men’ was a big hit on the gay dance floors at the time – Pauline loved it!) and they shared their disgust for the homophobic views of the Chief Constable of Greater Manchester. I knew I was in a supportive environment where I could be my true self and devote so much more effort and energy to my creative work.?

(Below: My angry activist persona, Manchester Pride C. 1991)

The ‘+’ bit of LGBT+ includes the letters ‘QQIAA’ (the generally recognised full list is currently: Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender/Transsexual, Queer, Questioning, Intersex, Asexual and Ally, but this is evolving and changing over time). The final ‘A’ stands for Ally. Edward and Pauline proved to be remarkable allies to me as a young gay man and queer activist. They never questioned inviting my boyfriend(s) and later my husband Adam to work events, they offered graphic resources for me to create placards and posters and fliers for Pride events and other LGBT+ and HIV/AIDs demonstrations, they allowed our office in the Gay Village to be a base for ACT-UP Manchester during Manchester Pride and they offered me legal support if I was arrested during one of the many demonstrations and protests I was involved in. During the 1990s Pride continued to be a protest by the LGBT community and our allies, demanding equality and equity.

During the 2000s Pride evolved. A new Government brought in new legislation. The age of consent for gay men was eventually made equal in 2001. Section 28 was repealed in 2003. Marriage equality, adoption rights, rights to serve in the military all quickly followed. As we gained the equality and equity we had been protesting for, Pride became a celebration and a party.

(Below: San Francisco Pride 2005 with my then boyfriend Adam)

(Below: Los Angeles Pride 2009, on honeymoon with Adam)

Pride for me in 2022 is many things. It is a celebration of our LGBT+ community, a celebration of what we have achieved and the rights we have won. But it is also a time to reflect on how fragile those rights are and a protest at the threats we still face.?Last Friday the US Supreme Court overturned the legal right for a woman to have an abortion, with one judge saying they would look to overturn marriage equality and LGBT+ rights next. Later on Friday there was a terrorist attack on a LGBT+ nightclub in Oslo. The mass shooting left two people dead.

For as long as we face prejudice, discrimination, and violence Pride will be a political event. Pride at work is part of that. Rainbow swatches over logos on LinkedIn are more than the cynical marketing opportunity that some believe them to be. They demonstrate support from our business leaders and allies and help give us confidence to be our authentic selves at work. I’ve read some inspiring posts on LinkedIn over the past few weeks about Pride. My friend from Manchester in the 1990s, Paul Raben-Christensen talked about the need for business to go further than Pride flags and rainbow logos and how BPROUD (Bloomberg LP's global LGBTQ+ allies community) have done amazing things on the streets of Hong Kong. My friend Niall Johnston showed how a leader in a global corporation (GE Power) can demonstrate inclusivity and support. But the most moving and inspiring post I’ve seen was thanks to LinkedIn algorithms presenting me with post from Goldman Sachs, featuring Joshua Williams talking about self-worth and the value of being able to be his authentic self at work.

(Below: My last Pride, Manchester 2018)

Thank you to all the businesses that have posted about Pride this past month or have included a rainbow in their logos. Although I'm now older, senior and somewhat privileged, your recognition and support mean a lot to me, and would have meant the world to the young, junior, scared me all those years ago and I'm sure mean a lot to the members of the LGBT+ community who are part of your organisation. But Pride is about more than 30 days in June, so continue to support the LGBT+ community in our fight for equity, continue to support your people to be their authentic selves at work and continue to be our allies for as long as we face prejudice, discrimination, and violence.