As a Queer member of staff at Caring in Bristol, I am acutely aware of the increased barriers to good quality housing that people from the LGBTQIA+ communities face. Each time we have staged our “GRIT Awards” interactive event at Bristol Pride, there has been a constant stream of people who have shared their stories around housing insecurity and homelessness they have experienced. This activity helps us to shine a light on the sheer grit that people need to access or maintain appropriate housing for the way they need to live. We hear universal themes, but also unique issues that affect people from these communities.

Social homes make a difference

I was a teenager in the Eighties, growing up in the security of a council home; this provided a stability that at least made the cultural climate easier to endure. At that time homophobia was so normalised that newspapers and other media forms were emboldened to print discriminatory lies, vilifying everyone from the LGBTQIA+ communities, and fuelling a culture of hate, violence, and fear. To this backdrop, and the growing HIV crisis, I saw friends coming out at home, and familial relationships breaking down. Marginalised within their own family home, and sometimes being told to get out. When someone’s housing is taken from them, things are critical.

Sofa surfing

Thankfully, easier access to housing back then meant a network of friends with a place of their own who would look out for each other, facilitating what we now refer to as sofa surfing. But for every person who was fortunate to have the safety net of a friend with a flat, there were others who were isolated and pushed into unacceptable, often dangerous, situations. Information and advice were harder to come by, leaving many young people unsure about their rights or whether their rights would be denied due to prejudice. As I became more independent, I had to ask the question each time I moved home and looked for a new one: Will it be safe to live here? Will my life be at risk?

After leaving home, I was dependant on the private rental sector for a home. I experienced periods of homelessness, myself, following a relationship ending or landlords ending a tenancy at short notice. Friends looked after my possessions, and other friends provided me with a temporary bed until I found new homes. Without community networks, I would likely have been pushed out onto the street. I felt held, but for people where there are no networks, friends, or family, then homelessness becomes many times more traumatic. I’m not sure what I would have done in different circumstances. I knew of no equivalent services to Project Z or Z House, both Caring in Bristol services for young people experiencing or facing homelessness, and inclusive of the LGBTQIA+ community. How sad that luck was a factor in my housing outcomes. That wasn’t right. It's still not right!

Advocacy

In the early Nineties, I volunteered with HIV/AIDS support charities. The trauma experienced by the community within which I worked could never be underestimated. In my role, it was not unusual to be advocating for individuals experiencing difficulties with their landlords. Stigma was rife, thanks to the media who were still emboldened to use fearmongering and hate to keep a grip on their audiences. I met with landlords who believed these stories, and wanted their HIV+ tenants out, often targeting tenants when their health faced a challenge. It needed a strong push, especially when housing rights were even more inadequate than they are now. Roll on the reforms! As their health needs changed, their housing often didn't due to a system that failed to understand their developing requirements.

Today, the playbook of oppression that I grew up with in the Eighties has been cruelly reinvented. Once more fuelled by certain sections of the media, and even high-profile celebrities who have been radicalised into an obsessive transphobic worldview. Again, this has led to increased housing insecurity and homelessness in the Trans community. Spoiler alert: It wasn’t secure before the current round of culture wars; our communities have been living through these things for far too long.

Vibrant identities

It’s also vital that we acknowledge the increasing awareness of the intersectional nature of discrimination, and how it impacts on housing security. People from LGBTQIA+ communities are often part of other communities; people of colour, people with disabilities, or people who are neurodivergent, as examples of where our complex identities vibrantly meet. This response, from some, to this complexity can make life unnecessarily challenging to navigate in the face from both direct and indirect discrimination. Living an authentic life is liberating. For some of us it can be, at times, exhausting.

All of this highlights the importance of good quality, safe, housing. It acts as a foundation for so many aspects of our lives, enabling all of us to live happier, healthier, more productive lives. When you face oppression, discrimination, stigma, and hate every day, our homes become even more important as a sanctuary. If even this basic need cannot be met, then we might ask ourselves, is this really the kind of society we want to live in?  Before we even get to that question, many have had to ask themselves, is this the kind of home I want to live in? For many, the answer is a definite “no!” to both questions. We need to hold on to the aspiration for a better housing system; one that upholds accessible, person-centred choices to everyone by understanding their needs.

Better housing options

It all feels like yet another (familiar) fight. Over half a century ago, Marsha P. Johnson and her contemporaries were creating makeshift solutions to queer youth homelessness. We still need solutions. History reassures me that the LGBTQIA+ community will secure change and further progression. I do not doubt this. One important basis to this will be the delivery of better housing options for everyone; options that provide safety and security for people and families from the LGBTQIA+ communities. We need aspiration to become a reality.

Research

In an important piece of research published by AKT (the national youth LGBTQ+ homelessness charity) we discover that young LGBTQ+ people are twice as likely to experience hidden homelessness than their counterparts from outside of this community, with a quarter of young LGBTQ+ people having experienced homelessness. It reflects our experience at Caring in Bristol, and the research is a must read. (READ IT HERE) It provides evidence, insight, and solutions in an area that requires far more focus, especially by the government.

Creating and holding a space (for you!)

As a charity that works in the field of homelessness and housing insecurity, we see so many of the challenges that LGBTQIA+ people face. We make and hold a safe and respectful space for them to access our services, and work or volunteer here. We do this every day. It’s our default position. We know how stressful and exhausting it is to have to deal with problematical housing issues, let alone if this is compounded by someone else’s issue with an aspect of your identity.

Read our Black History Month blog about Marsha P. Johnson