A journey of LGBTQ[1] rights from the 1980s to today
Back in 1980, I was just 15 years old, bracing myself for the 'O' levels, the precursor to today's GCSEs in England and Wales (our school finishing exams at age 16).
I became more aware of my nascent sexuality but had to experience homophobia and bullying of gay people as I was growing up. Even before I started university I recall working as a bus conductor as a summer job and feeling very uncomfortable at how workers around me mocked and teased a very camp, openly gay bus inspector. This made me feel very unconfident about being honest about my own sexual orientation.
It was a turbulent time in the world generally: the conflict in Northern Ireland seemed endless, apartheid gripped South Africa, and the Cold War hung heavy over global politics with people genuinely fearful that a nuclear third world war might break out. Amidst these monumental struggles, another battle brewed closer to home. It was something which struck a very particular chord in me as I struggled with coming to terms with being gay. This was a battle for LGBTQ rights, catalysed by a piece of legislation that would cast a long shadow over the community: Section 28 of the Local Government Act 1988.
A recent book I have read by Paul Baker, an academic at Lancaster University, ‘Outrageous’ sets out an excellent and detailed account of what he describes as the “battle for LGBT” education during this time and has been a vivid reminder to me of what the world was like at the time. The thoughts in this article are the reaction and reflections which this book has triggered in me.
A climate of fear and misunderstanding
The news in the 1980s was rife with tales of the "looney left," an epithet for councils allegedly obsessed with political correctness. These were the days before "woke" became a buzzword, but the sentiment was the same. Left-wing authorities were lampooned in the press for allegedly banning black bin bags (something which never happened) to rewriting nursery rhymes (a story about ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’ being renamed ‘Baa Baa Green Sheep’ was also a story of fiction reported as fact). Amid this, then-London mayor Ken Livingstone's Greater London Council was a frequent target, accused of everything from supporting IRA terrorism to encouraging "overly politically correct" messages about LGBTQ issues.
In this atmosphere, the publication in the UK of ‘Jenny Lives with Eric and Martin’, a Danish book that depicted two gay men raising a young girl, became — bizarrely — the focus of attention. The book became a lightning rod for controversy, with newspapers decrying its presence in school libraries. Positive representations of LGBTQ individuals in the media were few and far between and often stereotypical, reinforcing harmful notions about what it meant to be gay.
The dark era of Section 28
Against this backdrop, Margaret Thatcher's Conservative government introduced Section 28 of what was blandly called the Local Government Act in 1988.
This law prohibited local authorities (i.e. local government councils) from "promoting homosexuality" or teaching "the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship." This vague, offensive and discriminatory legislation sparked widespread fear and confusion about what could be taught or discussed in schools and made gay members of society feel like pariahs.
The LGBTQ (as it was then referred to) community and allies rose in protest. During an iconic moment (which can be relived on YouTube) a group of lesbians stormed a live BBC’s 6pm news bulletin and millions of people heard muffled cries of “Stop Section 28” in the background as the evening news was being read out live. The famous actor Sir Ian McKellen publicly condemned the legislation in various interviews including one with Sir Terry Wogan (the British-Irish broadcaster latterly known for his acerbic Eurovision commentary). There was also a divide within the gay and lesbian movement itself about how best to garner support: some argued against the notion that being gay was a choice, while others asserted that people should be free to explore their sexuality.
Repeal and its lingering effects
Section 28 was finally repealed in Scotland in 2000 and in the rest of the UK in 2003. However, the damage was done. The law had created a culture of silence and fear around LGBTQ issues in education, and its legacy persisted long after its repeal. Teachers, uncertain about what was permissible, often avoided the topic altogether. This left generations of students without the vital support and understanding they needed, and all too often left issues of bullying by peers (and, regrettably, occasionally from teachers) ignored and brushed under the carpet by schools.
Despite the long shadow, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. It felt like I was not being stigmatised any more. People could openly discuss LGBTQ issues. A new generation of young people were able to see portrayals of gay people on the TV and in the media. There were gay kisses on popular soap operas. TV Dramas as ‘Queer as Folk’ were broadcasted on mainstream TV. There was even a gay trainee lawyer featured in a series called this ‘This Life’ (charting the lives of five young people training to be lawyers) which probably had a greater influence on my decision to turn to the law than it should have!
The haunting legacy of discriminatory legislation around the world
While the UK has made significant strides in LGBTQ rights since that dark period, similar battles continue worldwide. In Florida, legislation echoing Section 28 has resurfaced, threatening to silence discussions about gender and sexuality in schools. Poland and Russia have enacted 'gay propaganda' laws, chilling free expression and fostering discrimination. In parts of Africa, including Nigeria and Uganda, harsh anti-LGBTQ laws endanger lives and perpetuate stigma.
These modern-day echoes of Section 28 remind us that the fight for equality is far from over. Discriminatory laws may change form, but their impact remains devastating. They marginalise, stigmatise, and endanger the lives of LGBTQ individuals, fostering environments of intolerance and fear.
We can still do more
As we celebrate Pride month, we should probably be mindful of the legacy of Section 28 and its similar global descendants. The progress made in the UK should inspire us to advocate for change wherever LGBTQ rights are under threat. By sharing stories and raising awareness, we can make sure that legislation like Section 28 and its ilk are confined to history. Back in 1987, 76% of the population in the UK thought that same sex relationships were mostly or always wrong (the same question resulted in something closer to 80% in the US). Today this figure has shrunk to 9% in the UK.
Together, we can build a world where every individual, regardless of their sexuality or gender identity, can live openly and proudly without fear of discrimination. Let's honour the past by forging a brighter, more inclusive future.
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[1] I have used the acronym LGBTQ to cover Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Queer/and/or Questioning. Other acronyms include LGBTQIA which also covers Intersex, and Asexual. Back in the 1980s the most common acronym was LGBT.