Blog: We're Here. We're Us. We're Out.

A blog written about our Here. Me. Out LGBTQ+ project and the importance of sharing the stories and experiences of our community.

“’ History is not history unless it is the truth.’ By the late Abraham Lincoln” was a sentence that defined my high school education. One of the most vivid pieces of teaching that still swirls around my mind to this day; the quote used and the sentence as a whole was a class motto, a mantra almost, put in place by one of my secondary school history teachers who made us say it in unison at the beginning and end of every lesson they taught. They were so passionate about this phrase, and about the importance of history as a whole, that they encouraged us to constantly remind ourselves that the historical value of a person or event cannot be based on hearsay and personal opinion, but rather must be decided by evidence, certified resources, and factual information. If something is false or exaggerated, it is not history but a story. If something is omitted or not investigated fully, it is not an accurate account of what has taken place. If it is not entirely and undoubtedly proven to be true, subsequently, it cannot be History.

14 year old me, who even then had a passion for history and political matters, felt this quote was so profound and worldly, that no one could possibly argue the validity of this statement – however 24 year old me, with my weathered skin and my slight tinges of Lanarkshire working-class pessimism, questions whether or not this quote is as watertight as I once thought.

Because of our location in the United Kingdom, like many countries in our Western society, the depictions of our history can be (and often are) extremely biased towards the factions of our society that hold the most power and the most privilege. For example, as mentioned in the previous blog about our online LGBTQ+ sessions ‘The In/Out Crowd’, Section 28 was crucial in the setbacks the LGBTQ+ community in the UK faced due to the restrictions of queer education and even discussions in schools only 20-30 years ago – yet today, the severity of this law is often overlooked out with the queer community, and when it is mentioned in the mainstream, it is simply described as a ‘controversial clause’ or other similar phrases. This, to me, doesn’t convey the magnitude of the pain and distress it caused so much of our community from a young age. Knowing this now, I may question the quote that places such high importance on truth and historical accuracy whilst looking at all aspects of events in history to provide a balanced retelling of events when, in reality, this balanced retelling hardly ever happens in full. In the same history class, we briefly talked about both World Wars, we skimmed over the Westward expansion of the USA and touched lightly on the beginning of the Civil Rights movement, but every lesson was fleeting; a whistle-stop tour of these major world events. There was no discussion, no explanation, and certainly no time for the in-depth questions these subjects raise. As I grew older, I grew frustrated as to why certain information was not widely shared and implemented into everyday education. I felt that had it not been for my own keen interest in history leading me to read books and watch documentaries on my own, I would still be left stuck with a vague picture of the last 200 or so years without any real knowledge or learning. But, of course, I then realised that true history cannot always be learned from a textbook. The truest form of history comes from those who have lived (and may still be living) during and through times of historical and political importance.

Our project Here. Me. Out aims to collect interviews shared from LGBTQ+ people either living in or with a connection to Scotland as part of an Oral History project with Our Stories Scotland. We are interviewing people of many ages, backgrounds, identities, and experiences to show the rich and diverse LGBTQ+ community we have in this country and how our stories may be similar in some ways and also completely different in other ways. These interviews will be archived and shared in a multitude of platforms including online and live exhibitions alongside dance films and other digital artefacts created from using these stories as inspiration. To read about issues relating to the queer community across the world such as Section 28, the Stonewall riots, the violence towards LGBTQ+ people in places such as Poland and Russia today, it is saddening and hard to think about yet there may be education to be gained from it. However – listening to an oral history interview from someone who has lived through events (and may still be experiencing them) takes our learning that step further; it has the ability to create a visceral response from the listener. To hear someone be fully open about the often upsetting, terrifying, or confusing events that we all experience in life, regardless of how we identify, is where not only education but understanding is established. Education alone is vital and plays a major role in the maintenance of humankind – but true understanding is imperative to the progression and further development of our society.

In addition, when we create our digital artefacts from these interviews, it adds another layer to our learning and understanding of the subjects raised. For example, our first artefact, a film called ‘THEM’, based around the dysphoria associated with bathrooms and menstrual cycles for trans and nonbinary folks, took place in a series of different gendered bathrooms (pre-COVID of course!) and used the imagery of collapsing, pulling vs pushing, hiding away and an almost primitive look of severe discomfort and anxiety – all movements based around actual feelings some folks, including myself, personally experience when we see only ‘male and female’ bathrooms available. To explore and express these feelings through dance and movement with some keywords overlaid was a liberating experience and, once shared on our social media platforms, had many friends and family members approach us and say “I get it now … that video showed me how you and others must feel.” For others participating in our Here. Me. Out project, either with an interview alone or creating a film with us, it is a chance to tell these important stories in our own words and have them kept and shared potentially for decades to come and even longer. Furthermore, because of the longevity of these interviews, stories, and films, they could have the ability to educate and influence people that may not even be born yet (cue the existential crisis of staring into the void whilst about thinking of life and death and our ever-expanding universe… okay, enough, I need a KitKat!)

In all seriousness, what makes the Here. Me. Out artefacts and oral history interviews so significant? Well, if we consider the first line of this blog “History is not history unless it is the truth”, it is the authenticity of someone’s experience that defines its necessity in relation to history. For example, in 60 years from now, there may not be documented evidence about anti-gay bullying in Dundee, Scotland in the 1980s – however, it did happen, because we know interviewees who have experienced it; 60 years from now there may not be documented evidence about violence towards trans people in Scotland during 2020s – nevertheless, it is happening because we see it and we hear it, either through microaggressions and misgendering or direct verbal and/or physical abuse. Without these stories being recorded and documented from the people themselves who experience them, despite their relevance and influence, they may be overshadowed or lost by the major headlines of the year or even the decade and so may not be heard or told after many years down the line. And by these stories being made into dance artefacts, they offer another personal perspective and ability for the viewer to try to grasp the essence of an interview that may have lasted a number of hours into a few minutes of visual art, capturing the emotion and the message of the interviewee.

Ultimately, that is the focus of Here. Me. Out – capturing queer history and LGBTQ+ issues whilst they are happening. In 60 years’ time, people won’t have to wonder what life was like for LGBTQ+ people in Scotland from the 1970s – 2020s or read about it in a dusty textbook that offers potentially a sanitised summary but in fact, can listen to our stories, watch our films and see on a wider scale the resilience and pride in our community, despite our many setbacks. If history is not history unless it is the truth, Here. Me. Out can provide not only an artistic but authentic point of view of current events, soon to be modern LGBTQ+ history. And what could be a more truthful and honest portrayal of history than a person describing exactly how it feels and what we go through as an LGBTQ+ person at this very time?