Q zine ~ issue 2 ~ We are all about that pride by QZine

Q issue 02

we are all about that pride

welcome to

zine

F RO M T H E ED I T O R

Hello! I am Mohammad (but please call me Momo) one of your queer officers and Editor for 2015. If this is your first time picking up one of our zines I hope you like it because so many old and new members of the collective had put their stories, opinions and art in the folds of this beautiful zine. RUSU Queer’s zines are a creative platform for all to engage and contribute to the department’s knowledge. The various journeys that all of us undergo when we goes through life help us see and feel what the other sees and feels. The title “WE ARE ALL ABOUT THAT PRIDE” is simple but sends an important message. We all have such pride when confronting the world but how are we going with our internal pride? Do you look into the mirror and see the potential and wonder that I experience whenever I have a conversation with you? Well, I hope you do. So flip through our pages of love and acceptance and hopefully we will see your work on these pages in future issues. Be safe, be fabulous and be amazing. Love you like Ex oh, Mohammad Taha Editor

abo u t que ers

It ’s a no-brainer. If y ou’ re not for g a y marria g e, don’t marr y a g a y p erson . Who opie Goldgerg

fo r queers 4

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Q contents

03 Editor’s Note Momo

06 About us Queer Dept

08 Queer Officers’ Welcome

Queer Lounge

Romy / Ai Vee

14 When I Found Myself

16 At the End of the Rainbow

Isaac

Jillian Tan

How to know the Gender of your Outfit

Our Beautiful Bodies

24 Yes I’m Dressed up

Lily Nguyen

Momo

10 Dear Bully Ai Vee

Emerson

27 Pride

Romy E Cecil

abo ut us The Queer Department at RUSU was created to help establish a more visible and safe queer culture on campus. Whilst the Queer Officers facilitate its activities, the Departmentâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s agenda is set by queer identifying students who form the Queer Collective. Anyone can share ideas, raise concerns and find out about services and social networks.

You can get in touch with the RUSU Queer Department by emailing the Queer Officers:

W h at d oe s the Qu e e r D e p artm e nt d o?

rusu.queer@rmit.edu.au

Provides support for people who are coming out, questioning or otherwise establishing their sexual / gender identity. It supports all students who identify as Lesbian, Gay, Bi, Transgender, Queer or Questioning, Intersex and Asexual (LGBTQIA). Gets involved in community campaigns targeting homophobia, discrimination and LGBTQIA concerns, as well as campaigns about broader social issues. Runs regular social events and activities, including a fortnightly meeting group, for students to meet each other, hang out and get involved in a queer collective. Helps RMIT queers to get involved in crosscampus networks and community groups. 6

We welcome your involvement in any or all of these aspects. You can be involved and express yourself in any way you choose. In short, the Queer Department allows Queer students to collectively address issues that affect us, both on campus and in the wider community. We challenge the discrimination still prevalent in our society - not just the violence or aggression of overt homophobia, but the more subtle yet equally damaging pervasiveness of heterosexism, whenever and wherever it occurs.

Hetero-normativity, or the assumption that everyone is straight, and that it is somehow more natural or normal to be so, is everywhere, from our mass media to our law system to all levels of our education system. The Queer Department’s very existence challenges this.

Make sure you check out the Queer Lounge, RMIT’s dedicated queer space and resource centre. It’s a great place to eat lunch, study, access information, play games, use the queer library and generally hang out. The Queer lounges are located at:

the queer lo u n g e

> >

Building 8, Level 3, Room 06 (City) Building 204, Level 1 (Bundoora)

At RUSU we realise that with only City and Bundoora Queer Lounges, these safe space are not accessible to all RMIT students. Therefore we urge you to help us call on RMIT University to provide a queer space at each campus. Although we always welcome allies and friends of queers I urge you to understand that not all people who are part of the collective feel safe or are out to society. THE SAFETY AND COMFORT OF THE COLLECTIVE COMES FIRST. If a queer individual from the collective displays discomfort (EVEN UNWARRANTED discomfort), the allies and friends of queers will be asked to leave the rooms.

Q U EER O F F I C E R S’ W ELCO M E

The Queer Department welcomes you back to another year of Uni! And to those fresh out of high school, we hope you’ll enjoy the journey ahead this year. I’ve noticed that there has been a million and two newbies coming in and out of the queer lounge lately, to those who have made these newbies feel welcomed into the lounge, thank you! You have probably noticed, there have been some changes made to the queer lounge. As a collective, we were out and proud during these past couple of rainbow months, we held a picnic at Midsumma, participated in the Midsumma Pride March and were fortunate to recruit some newbies during the RMIT O-week. As that dreadful flow of assessments start building up, lets not forget about all the events that we have each week, come mingle, let loose and possibly learn something new. Remember, the Queer Department is what you make of it, respect the safe space well. Everyone has a right to express themselves, however, please do bare in mind the presence of your fellow peers. Be pleasant to each other and to yourself. Ai Vee Goh

Greetings and welcome to the Zine! To those who do not know me I am Romy, one of your three Queer Officers for 2015. And it’s really an honour to welcome you to the Queer Department’s new look Zine. Since I walked through the doors of the Queer Lounge, those within have become a second family to me where for the first time in my life I could be who I was and not fear judgment. Since that moment I have almost completely dropped the façade I would parade to the rest of the world – and for the first time I like who I am completely and utterly. I was so afraid to be myself – always looking through glass windows and seeing the person I didn’t want to be. It was so freeing to see beyond the image to the person I was, the person I had been and the person I was to become and love myself. I don’t think it was coming out to my family that was so important for me – I was afraid to come out to myself. I’ll admit that it wasn’t until I walked through the looking glass I was ready to re-make myself over by letting go of insecurity and the whole masquerade and see what people would think of the real crazybubbly person underneath….and so far she’s been pretty well liked. My own family hardly recognise me now and those I used to know are taken aback. Acting like someone you are not is exhausting and eventually you can forget the person through the mirror….One day you will be ready to break the glass. And we’ll be waiting to meet you! Romy E Cecil

Dear Big Bully, I found out through Facebook that you died. You were in the news too, the Herald Sun said that you got murdered. Something to do with domestic violence or abuse, I’m unsure. Some people may remember you as a nice, sweet girl but I certainly do not. You were in my Year 7 and 8 classes as well as my Year 10 English classes when we were in high school together.

your hair blonde. Maybe you were insecure? Insecure of the way you look, afraid that your fellow peers will judge you? Had it ever occurred to you that I felt that same way too? That I too was insecure about my appearance? That I too didn’t fit into the norm of looking like an ideal teenage girl? Yet, you picked on me. You may think that I am lacking in compassion and kindness for you since you’re no longer walking this Earth, but I ask of you, when were

I don’t have nice things to say about you even though you’re dead now, as

DE A R B UL LY A I V EE ’S S TORY PA RT II :

you didn’t have anything nice to say to me back then. To be frank, I don’t recall you being nice at all.

you ever compassionate and kind to others who weren’t your friends and family? How about the teachers that you gave attitude to? Thinking you were far better than them, you were rude to all the teachers who were all trying to give you an education. Why was it back then you weren’t matured enough to understand that?

You tormented me through the years, you made me weak, bullied me throughout my teens. You impacted my life in such a horrific way that you made my schooling hell. To me, you were one of those more fortunate kids, being all-popular, well liked and all that. You used to get all pissed when people called you a carrot top, maybe that’s why you bleached

I used to “hang out” in the toilets during school breaks you know, my decision to do so wasn’t because of you exactly, you see, I didn’t have any

good friends back then. My so-called “circle of friends” who were basically my classmates seemed like they couldn’t wait to get rid of me by the end of each recess or lunchtime. I’m certain that they thought that I was annoying. I lacked friends during my early teens, that’s because I moved houses. So, I didn’t get any social support from my peers. I had no one to turn to. I was alone. I had always felt alone.

of someone who actually was? It wasn’t that you said some nasty things to me or about me, it was more like the way you acted around me. You were more of a physical person. It was your body language, your facial expressions, your actions that did the harm. You impacted me negatively.

I lacked self-confidence and selfesteem and I had issues with selfrespect. You could have actually changed my life if you were nice to me as I was to you, always. You always had a bitchy look on your face whenever you saw me. I don’t know what made you not like me. I was considered a nerd during the first couple years of high school, maybe that’s why? Maybe you weren’t considered “smart” or were good at something that you thought the best way to deal with that was to make fun

our Ceramics class together and you aimed and threw clay at my head, my neck and my back. You threw it so many times and so hard that I got bruises. Black and blue. Obviously you were bored. I remember once when we were in our English class, you blew out small pieces of paper soaked with your saliva from a straw and aimed it at my head. Did you know that it’s considered bad luck to touch a person’s head in my culture?

I still remember very clearly the time you got physical with me. You used to throw random objects and aim it at the back of my head during class. I remember once when we were in

contined next page

Yes, I am a victim of bullying, yes, there was a slight chance that I could of been suicidal, yes, it could have been me that was dead, but thank goodness I was strong enough to overcome you. There are many, many, many, people out there who were like me or are experiencing bullying right at this instance and I can assure you they have had thoughts of taking revenge against their bullies. Some may want their bullies dead, I for one, have one of them dead. As victims of bullying it may seem that we have no

Maybe then you would have changed.

voice, that we can’t be heard, that we always get ignored.

You were so young when you died. Maybe, if you had lived a little longer you would have learnt to accept the people around you who were different from you. Because isn’t that all we all want? To be accepted for whom we are?

I hope your son will grow up to be nothing like you. A bully. I hope he grows up filled with love, kindness, compassion, empathy, some humanity and most importantly, respect. I hope your son will value education more than you. I don’t know what you were like as a mother, but I do know what you were like as a student and a big bully. I will always remember you as a manipulative, lazy, rude, stubborn asshole.

I have a loyal group of friends now. I am content and happy with myself and with my life. I’ve learnt a great deal from you. I’ve learnt not to treat people the way you did. To be gentle with people who may be experiencing hardships. On the bright side, I’m in my third year of Uni studying a well-respected course, if only you were doing the same.

All the best, Ai Vee Your victim

What you have just read was my diar y entr y on the 21st March 2014. I found out a few days before I wrote this letter that my high school bully had passed away after being tormented with domestic violence from their par tner. I wrote this letter as a way to cope with my past and the death of my bully.

W H EN I F OU N D MYS EL F BY ISA AC

One of my earliest memories is me going up to my dad, proclaiming in an excited voice, “I’m a boy!” He denied it. When the boys in my primary school accused me of being a boy, I denied it. I reacted violently - how dare they call me one of them.

have it anywhere near as bad as trans women. It still isn’t easy. I wear a ring similar to a knuckle duster for my safety. I haven’t started the medical process of becoming a “true man”. I get read as a butch lesbian by virtually every stranger I come across. Being female is dangerous which is bullshit. When I’m misgendered, I don’t react any more. It happens too often.

It was only because my birth middle name was the same as a trans woman, who was the star of a reality TV show where cis men competed for her heart. In the final episode, she revealed her trans status and the fact she hadn’t changed her downstairs area using invasive and expensive surgery. The cis men sued the show’s producers for “tricking” them. Being trans is not trickery. Life as a trans woman is more dangerous than life as a trans man. Society thinks being feminine is a bad thing, which is something I disagree with strongly.

When I don’t get misgenderd, I react. It’s rare when I don’t get misgendered. I almost correct people when they use “he” instead of “she”. 18 years of being “she” will do that to you. I chose the name Isaac because it has letters from all three of my birth names - one first name and two middle names - and because it has double a. My dad’s family comes from Finland, and Finnish has a lot of double vowels. It also means “he who laughs”.

I grew up in a house of feminists. But being female was never for me. Dresses and skirts were hated but they were a source of praise. I always wanted to make my parents happy because I was always “acting up” in class. Being Autistic in a class of non-Autistic kids who hated you will do that to you. I finally realised I might be trans in late 2011.

I need more laughter in my life. My family dislikes the name Isaac. I also took up my dad’s name and his dad’s Anglicised name as middle names, which is following the naming conventions my parents used for my sister and me. My birth middle names are my dad’s mum’s name and my dad’s grandma’s name. I don’t see the issue.

The first person I came out to was my doctor. I started off with; “I’m 18 years old and a legal adult.” “Do you need the pill?” she asked. “No, I think I might be transgender.” She was relieved and gave me a hug because I’d started crying. Being trans in a world that says you don’t exist, and that you shouldn’t exist, is scary. I don’t

My family uses Izz, Izzy, or Zac. I don’t like those names. It’s never Isaac. It’s not my legal name, but it’s my real name. Call me Isaac or call me nothing.

AT T HE END OF THE RAINBOW

JILLIAN TAN

Gender and sexuality is fluid, and one’s identity among the LGBTQ+ lies somewhere among a broad spectrum. Just like a rainbow, there are many different shades and varieties, beyond what the eye can merely see. Yet despite the vast ocean of queerness we are free to explore, I find myself marooned by restrictive labels and concomitant expectations that bring out an uneasiness that has led to an identity crisis. Nowadays I often find myself asking myself: What am I? When I first found myself fancying a senior in my all girls school, I did not think much of it at all. I was only about 10 then, and any information on labels were yet to enter my vocabulary. It was only about three years later that the word ‘lesbian’ was thrown about, exotic and trendy, but nevertheless embraced with much tolerance from the majority. It was not easy to play the game of Who’s Who—between straight girls and femme lesbians you could be left guessing all year—but the butch lesbians most had no doubt about. Short hair, gruff behaviour, confident struts, they exuded masculinity that shone like a beacon among waves of femininity; many would not have a good impression of them. Somehow it seemed then that if you fell under the L word, you simply had to be on one side or the other, and people slapped the ‘appropriate’ label on you based on your looks. I had had intensely long hair all my life, and in the heat and humidity of Singapore, it was torturous. At 15 I decided to chop it all off, right near to the scalp at the sides. It was not a big deal to me; my mum, too, has had pixie-like short hair for over 20 years, and she’s straight and quite conservative when it comes to sexuality. Subsequently, when I encountered strangers in different places—staff at checkout counters, air stewards, shopkeepers, etc—many of them, at first

sight, called me sir or ‘xiao di’ (little boy). Only when I spoke did they realise their blunder, and quickly apologised. Something about the situation gave me much pride, though; I revelled in the fact that I confused people and even embarrassed them by it. I liked the idea that I appeared somewhat androgynous. However, those who knew I was female were quick to call me a ‘butch’. For some reason, I disliked the sound of that term. It felt like an anchor weighing me down, keeping me in a place that was not my own habitat. In retrospect, and even now, I display many masculine tendencies, so why do I distance myself from a label that, in a way, describes me? Perhaps because I was never officially out, not in a broadcasted manner anyway, and I experienced much discomfiture over people simply assuming I was lesbian, and butch, just by how I looked— even if I was, but not exactly. Since a part of me still developed an attraction towards males, it perplexed me to a greater degree. As more and more people began to attach me to that label, I felt conscious, and sought to hide away all my jeans and grungy t-shirts for the time being, instead donning blouses, skirts and dresses, and was instead seen as an edgy girl. But every time I bought a new piece of traditionally femme clothing, I felt a tinge of sadness in my heart, an extension of disappointment ultimately stemming from betrayal. For a few good years I flitted between the two styles, always feeling unsettled between the two through the eyes of others, my confusion growing by the day. Despite my efforts, no lesbian girls would ask me out since I did not fall into either of the preference labels, and guys would take one look at me and say “you’re not my type”.

After many failed attempts, I found myself standing in front of a mirror, and I could not tell who I was—or am, because this is still the question I ask today. There are days I wake up feeling like I want people to see me as female, and there are days where I want people to ‘mistakenly’ greet me with a ‘hey, bro!’. However there are also days I cannot pick between the two, and have to remind myself that fluidity means not only are there no set borders, but I should not allow people to place me within any. My journey of finding my own identity may not be at its end—in fact, I am at the highest point on the queer rainbow curve, able to see all there is the world has to offer to a person who is in the process of finding oneself, but Nat King Cole once sang: At the end of the rainbow You’ll find a pot of gold  At the end of a story  You’ll find it’s all been told —and I can’t wait to come down to my own sense of self, perhaps with a tale not- so-different from others, relatable even, but nonetheless unique to me. My pot of gold is being comfortable with who I am, wherever I may be wedged within the wonderful LGBTQ+ rainbow. Either way, I am grateful to have my own shade of colour. Jillian Tan.

HOW TO KNOW THE GENDER OF YOUR OUTFIT IL LU S T R AT I ON BY E MER S ON

OUR BE AUTIFUL BODIES IL LU S T R AT I ON BY L IL LY N G U Y EN

Yes I’m

Dressed Up you don’t have to look and it’s not for your pleasure Momo

A big party setting, people are everywhere and everyone is high on whatever they are consuming. They are all looking, they are all whispering and they look at me with defeated looks as I walk in with that aura of glamorous existence. They are looking at me like they have finally given up and that they no longer can resist avoiding looking at me. They look at me defeated with a hint of “how dare you have such presence and fashion sense?”

that my queerness only makes me stronger. They need to know that I am untouchable because with me I hold the pride of my journey and how I earned my place today. That’s the life of many queer people you see. Our mere existing is a direct violation of “normal” people values. So, we need to work harder to get what most people take for granted. To be loved and accepted. A Few words right? At times it seems like it’s like asking for world peace.

Of course that victory of mine is intentional. All my life what I’m wearing was irrelevant to people looking at me. Only now I have the power and they don’t like it. I was wearing fishnets with a long shirt and a golden bow tie. I was also wearing a spikey necklace that displays my obvious dominance. I have people from all genders “crush” at my shores. I see “straights” feel threatened and try not to look because it probably provoked something in them. That day I have received many compliments, which are things that I am not comfortable with it always seems like I should have something nice to say in exchange. They always pause after the comment and wait. Often I say things like “I know” or “yeah it’s one of my favourites”. The conversations often die out after that. Every now and then I get the confrontational “oh you dress like this because you love attention”.

As a young queer I did my best not to be seen. No one was there to defend me and it was every queer for themselves. The more I was able to defend myself the more my identity blossomed. The fact that I was able to wear fishnets and a shirt with my male sexed body took many years of martial arts. It meant that no one in there was a threat to my well-being. At some point a friend of mine complimented me on my fantastic fashion choices were, my friends are lovely and kind like that. At that point I was already tired of how heteronormative that place was. So I reply in an unexpected tone. “I don’t do this for you. I don’t do this for any of them [as I gestured to the crowded room]. I do this for me. Dressing well and being “fabulous” helps me to leave the house every day. It helps me when I know I have to go out of my front door every morning and fight. I have to fight and struggle every single day of my life, just to be the person I am just to be accepted. Most people who aren’t

When it happened I smiled and pulled my best “bitch face + smirk”. They can’t now they are able to get to me you see. So, I hold my head up high, I stare them down and show them

queer, and haven’t had to do this every day of their life, they don’t understand the struggle that we go through - to be accepted, respected and loved. And we’re still not there yet - things are better than they’ve ever been for the LGBTIQA community, but we don’t yet have equality. I don’t want to have to do this. It’s exhausting. But until we reach true acceptance, I really don’t have any other choice.” Don’t get me wrong I am physically unable to dress down. It would be nice thought to not have to play a staring contest. I will win because I practice and I have dealt with prejudice for 11 years so I have gotten pretty good at it. That’s 11 years I don’t wish on anyone, the bad parts that is. The good parts were quite wonderful. We queer folk have so much bad we forget the good. Not because we want to it’s because the bad is so severe we forget. My friend showed admiration after the burst that I had because for she wasn’t sure I can actually burst. My identity has never and will never be about others. People think that dressing up is vanity. Well, it might be but for some people but many queers I know take the way they represent themselves as a way of coping with a world that struggles to digest how interesting we all are so it lashes out and attempts to hurt us.

P RIDE Romy E Cecil

Raise our flag high, Painting the sky rainbow. Sunlight shines through, Hands over hearts where hope has been answered. She glances over the counter, Her eyes glinting in mischief Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a smile upon her lips. A secret smile for me. My hand is sweaty in hers. My heart pounding as if the small act of hand-holding is as obvious as a neon sign. Her thumb brushes over my palm in calming circles. Her presence is calming beside me. The first kiss is intoxicating, A wave of excitement as she takes the lead. Cheeks flushed in the chill air, I hardly notice the raindrops as her warmth surrounds my heart. The tiny bundle in my arms moves sluggishly, A tiny hand holding my finger. I look up and she has her secret smile. Her secret smile for me.

Q Acknowledgment

RUSU Queer collective acknowledges all the the people who made this publication possible via their submissions, editing and support. Your work is valued and appreciated.