SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW The Irish gay rights movement may have come a long way since homosexuality was decriminalised in 1993, but gay people are still forced to deal with discrimination every day. Christine Orford hears some of the issues faced by LGBT teens in Ireland Sexuality is all around us – it’s in music videos, where scantily clad women gyrate to the latest rap gem; it's on billboards with oiled-up topless men advertising aftershave; and it's on all of our minds, at least sometimes. But it can be a difficult subject to talk about out loud and come to terms with – especially if you're gay, bi, or even just confused about the whole thing. BeLonG To is an organisation for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender young people. ey hold group meetings where young people can come to talk to their peers or the group leaders about anything from problems they could be having to their favourite programme. e Sunday BeLongG To meetings are held in a Georgian house on Capel Street. It is bright and warm, if a little cramped for the size of the group. In a way, the building is like the Irish gay rights movement – rich in history, proud, but under construction, with quite a way to go before it's perfect. e group is very diverse with everyone sporting a different style and talking about their interests – ranging from X-Factor to cardiac surgery. But everyone also has a story to tell. Although nobody's experience is the exact same as anyone else's, there are threads that connect them all. “Being gay isn’t such a big deal,” says John*. “I came out in school when I was 15, and I was the first one. Everyone thought it was such big news, even though I didn't. But afterwards, people treated me a little bit differently. They thought they could get away with slagging me and stuff. “I grew up with discrimination and bullying. I've had a pretty hard life because of my sexuality, but I look back and think, 'You know what, they're the ones with the real problem.' Because what coward hides behind a group to go beat up somebody? The guy who beat me up was a low-life piece of scum.” But he would never do what so many young people these days are doing and emigrate. Instead, he wants to stay to fight for his rights to be recognised in his native country. “We're missing so many rights from our lives. That's why it's so frustrating when people say that we've chosen to be this way, because this is how we were born,” explains John. “Sometimes it feels like you're deemed as half-human by society and by the State. If you're told you're wrong by a religion or by a government, you could end up thinking you're a wrong person, and that's so dangerous for people's mental health.”
“I've known I was gay since I was nine,” explains Robert*, “but I only came out last year. When I told my parents, my dad was fine with it, but my mum started laughing and saying, 'This can't be true, this can't be true.' Although she knows now, we never talk about it. I'm trying to give her time to accept it. “When I came out in school, I came out to my friends first and then everyone else found out. For the first week, no one really believed it, so it was okay. But after that it changed. People would kick, slag or punch me. It got to the point where I was pretending to be sick because I was afraid of going through the doors of my school, so I had to leave,” he reveals. “But in a way, I'm happy it happened, because in my new school I made the best friends of my life. I finally have a social life, and I feel free to be who I am. I came out the first day because I wanted to start fresh. There are 300 people in the year, and everyone knows my name. And three people in my year told me they came out because of me,” Robert says proudly. “Even though I'm not happy the bad stuff happened to me, now the good stuff is happening – it’s a bit like yin and yang.”
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