Everyone needs their ‘people’. They are the people who get you. They might share your values, or have shared experiences. They don’t judge you. These are the people you can ‘unmask’ for. When you sit with your community, you have a sense of belonging. That belonging is what you use to navigate the other parts of your life where you often don’t belong. Belonging is your compass. And we all need a compass.
For queer community, and that’s lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, intersex or questioning – living in a regional or rural area can be isolating. Queer people are more than two times more likely to experience depression or anxiety, and one in two will report suicidality. Mental Health Australia tells us that same-gender-attracted Australians are estimated to experience up to 14 times higher rates of attempted suicide than their heterosexual peers.
For the last seven years Queer Family have created a safe space for LGBTIA+ people in the Northern Rivers. They have supported thousands of adults with their programs and outreach, and hundreds of young people. I have attended a few of their gatherings and was impressed by the maturity and scope of the conversation of young people attending their groups. And how much fun everyone was having!
Some had travelled with their parents from as far as Grafton. Many had come from over an hour away. Some two. Why? Because this was the ONLY program like it. For one afternoon these young people got to meet other young people just like them. They heard stories of being bullied at school repeated by nearly everyone. It is hard to hear en masse what young people experience daily. Those messages about unworthiness or being unacceptable land deeply inside us as adolescents. Those bigoted narratives feed the dark voices of self-loathing. The self-loathing – that’s lethal.
The group laughed at some of the dumb stuff that people said to them. It was a kind of ‘outing’ – other school students, teachers. They talked deeply about how they felt. About what it felt like to not be heteronormative. They were at ease. They were accepting. In this space, once a week, or once a month when they met, they got to experience what it felt like to be normative. Because they were with their ‘people’. Their community. Their queer family.
That is the work of an organisation like Queer Family. You may not even know it exists. It’s not something you will see on social media. They aren’t constantly posting images of people engaging, asking for support. The work they do is quiet. They safeguard the privacy of the people in their programs. So you probably haven’t really noticed the important work they do. But if you are a mother or father of a queer adolescent – then yes, you will know. And you would be hugely grateful for the love and support your young person has received.
Queer Family however is struggling to survive. They lost their home base in the floods, they’ve since rented various locations, but their Managing Director Aiden Gentle believes that money should be going into programs, not rent. They’re running out of time, and come 1 July they’ll be without a home. Queer Family need a home base to continue their important work. They need core funding. They’re hoping, that maybe out there is a donor who is passionate about inclusion – maybe someone who knows what it feels like to live on the margins in a country town.
Queer Family works. It keeps people out of the health system. It keeps young people in school. It builds community cohesion and understanding. It tells people they belong.
Let’s find a way to keep our family strong.
If you have something to offer, contact [email protected].
Mandy Nolan’s column has appeared in The Echo for almost 25 years. She is a writer, comedian and artist, and was the Greens candidate at the past two federal elections.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
