This month I sat down with Alessia Lowcock from Year 12 at Putney High School. Alessia runs the LGBTQ+ society, and I wanted to speak with her about her experiences as an LGBTQ+ student (Alessia identifies as “queer in every way”; she mostly uses the term ‘lesbian’ to express her sexuality), why the society is important, and what it’s been like running it. It proved to be a fascinating interview. 

 

Alessia is 17 and has been at her school since the age of 4. She has attended LGBTQ+ society for many years, and since September of this year has been running it. First, I wanted to hear Alessia’s take on why having such a society matters. When I asked her, Alessia initially struggled for words, which I think speaks volumes. After much discussion, we arrived at the conclusion that the club is of utmost importance for several reasons. Firstly, “it provides a safe space for queer youth” (NB: Alessia chooses to use the word ‘queer’ as an umbrella term for anyone within the LGBTQ+ community, but is aware of it’s history as a slur), allowing them a place to exist free from fear or pressure. This might sound dramatic, but the high attendance of the club demonstrates that a need for such a space is very real, even today. Secondly, the club provides recognition for queer pupils, a “public admission that we exist”, which Alessia says makes her feel seen and valid. It also allows other students to act as an ally to their LGBTQ+ friends and provide support. Most importantly, though, it fosters a community. “It is common for queer youth to feel ostracised at school”, says Alessia, so the club helps to tackle that. LGBTQ+ students can ask questions, share experiences, and connect in a way that can be life changing.  

 

Alessia added that even with supportive friends queer youth can feel isolated if most of their friends don’t identify as LGBTQ+. “There is something irreplaceable about sitting in a room with people just like you”, is how Alessia puts it. Relating to shared experiences can be a very powerful tool in developing as a person and, in some cases, simply surviving in a still deeply queerphobic world - more on that later. Having said that, the identities within the club are wide-ranging and diverse. “Although there are some elements to the queer experience that are universal, we all have lots to learn from each other since there are many places we differ”, Alessia explained. Additionally, not all queer students are automatically progressive or share political standpoints. The conversations this generates are “really interesting”.  

 

Next, I asked a slightly tongue-in-cheek question, since I do not actually hold this view: “Why is this club still important now? Isn’t everything better?” Alessia took her time to respond, but her response was far from uncertain. She explained that although we technically have equal marriage in the UK, this does not mean there are no barriers to LGBTQ+ Brits; “the reality is far more complex”. Alessia told me of a gov.uk report, ‘Working for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Equality: Moving Forward’, which documented that 97% of LGBTQ+ pupils report hearing homophobic slurs ‘often’, yet only 10% report teachers getting involved. This is because a change in law does not necessitate a change in attitudes. “For queer youth in unsupportive family situations it doesn’t matter who they could theoretically marry.” What Alessia means is that the 2013 Marriage Act does not particularly affect pupils who are in queerphobic school or home environments. For such students, the day to day experience can be a threatening or even unsafe one. LGBTQ+ societies are therefore far from being redundant, and “we are a long way” from a world free from homophobia and transphobia. 

 

I wanted to find out about Alessia’s personal experiences, so I asked to tell me about the role the club played for her. Interestingly, Alessia’s experience was that “not everyone was super supportive” when she first came out in Year 8, but as she got older this changed. So when she was in Year 8 and 9 the club was a crucial “place of refuge”, where Alessia “didn’t have to worry about what people were saying behind my [her] back”. She could ask questions of the older students and discuss any problems with them; it was affirming to talk to people who had been through the same thing, and this reassured her that things really do get better. As she got older the club was “still a great place to go”. “It’s not all crying - it’s a fun club!”, Alessia joked, before explaining some of the activities involved (I discuss this later). She added that she now sees the club as a place to “pass on the support” that she received, an experience she finds particularly gratifying. It is also “a great place to hear about other queer experiences” that Alessia can’t relate to. She learns about the wider community, which she believes makes her more empathetic and better able to support others - “it embeds principles of community, respect and mutual support”.

 

Our final area of discussion was around Alessia’s experiences running the club. “I love it”, she replied with a laugh. The club runs once a week for 35 minutes. At the moment it takes place digitally due to year group bubbles, although students from the same year group usually group together and dial in. The club covers a wide range of activities, most commonly discussing topical issues in the news (which “sadly is mostly bad news at the moment”). They share recommendations of TV shows, films and books that provide representation and watch short films or YouTube videos to learn more. They also discuss queer history, with recent sessions on Stonewall and Section 28. These often take the form of a presentation and then a conversation or debate, from which Alessia learns “a lot” - she relishes hearing different opinions to her own. One good way to have such conversations is via ‘The Jubilee Game’, which is a firm favourite. It takes inspiration from the Jubilee debates online: Alessia will read out a statement (for example ‘pride should only be for those who identify as LGBTQ+’) and then each attendee will express that they either agree or disagree using hand signals. Those who agree get time to explain why, and then those who disagree. According to Alessia, they “often venture into philosophical territory”, and the conversations are fascinating. Another important topic the club covers is mental health and the unique ways in which being LGBTQ+ can affect this. Their most recent session was about how to support a trans friend when they come out, and the one before that was a presentation on homophobic bullying in schools, which the whole student and staff body was invited to attend to learn more.

 

The most common questions Alessia gets from the younger students are around how to come out, with requests for resources to share with people who aren’t supportive a close second. Alessia recounted that there is often a keenness to hear about the lived experiences of other club members, since this allows them to feel less alone. The subtext to almost every question, Alessia says, is ‘will things really be okay?’ 

 

To end the interview I asked Alessia to describe some of her favourite moments in the four years she’s attended the club, to which she responded “like... every session”. She went on to elaborate that “the best times are when we’re laughing about stuff”, which they often use as a way to cope with unhappy experiences. She also reiterated how much she enjoys the discussions: “being able to hear new points of view is really valuable to every single person in the group. I learn something new in every session.” 

 

This concluded my interview with Alessia Lowcock, LGBTQ+ Society leader from Putney High School. Her passion for and pride in this club were truly admirable and left me in no doubt that LGBTQ+ spaces in schools are of the utmost importance.