Edel Coffey: The risk of violence, persecution, loss of life is real for the LGBT+ community
Edel Coffey. Picture: Ray Ryan
āIn a world where ye can be anything, just be yourself.ā
That was the caption that Olympic boxing star Kellie Harrington wrote on her tweet announcing her marriage to her wife Mandy Loughlin a few weeks ago. They were both dressed in white wedding outfits, their cute tuxedo-clad dogs sitting at their feet. It was a beautiful sentiment with a beautiful image of the happy couple.Ā
I was aware of a glow of pride; how proud I was to live in a country that embraced all of us. Proud that we had made large ā if not quick ā strides from the dark ages of the early 90s, when homosexuality was still illegal, to marriage equality in 2015. I still remember the sense of relief I felt on the day the referendum results came through. I rang my friends, crying down the phone, grateful that they could now enjoy one of the rights and privileges that I had access to by sheer accident of my sexuality. Relief too that they were no longer seen as different or lesser in the eyes of the law, but equal.
Kellieās joyful wedding picture seemed to perfectly represent this change in Irish law. Her caption seemed to say how lucky we are to live in a world where we can just be ourselves. Just be yourself. It was such a positive message.
Within days of this happy tweet, our country was gripped by reports of a homophobic assault on a 23-year-old man, Evan Somers, in Dublin City, which had left him hospitalised with a fractured eye socket and a dislocated ankle. Radio shows were flooded with calls from people revealing their own experiences of homophobia ā alive and well in Ireland ā despite what the law says.
And then, a few days later, complete darkness descended as the bleakest of news filtered through. Two men had been brutally killed, and a third man horrifically maimed. Like everyone else in the country, I am deeply disturbed and distressed by the killing of Aidan Moffitt and Michael Snee. The feelings of injustice, fear, anger and frustration at our inability as a nation to protect our citizens with our laws, and our inability as individuals to protect each other echo the response to the fatal attack on the young teacher Aisling Murphy in January of this year.
When women are assaulted or murdered, we talk about how little insight men have into their privilege in the world, their ease of just being themselves in the world. Likewise, I think those of us who are not part of the LGBT+ community, who have no idea of our straight privilege in the world, no idea of the fear and vigilance that must come with being LGBT+ in this country. I imagine that it might share some characteristics with the fear that shapes and curtails womenās worlds and lives, the fear that dictates how we behave on a daily basis and limits where and when and how we go about our lives.
The deaths of Michael Snee and Aidan Moffit have been universally condemned by everyone from the president of Ireland to Shaykh Dr Umar Al-Qadri, the chair and founder of the Irish Muslim Peace & Integration Council (IMPAC), who told people at a vigil in Dublin that we would āface down the current demonisation and otherisation of LBGT+ peopleā and ābeat homophobia togetherā. The mayor of Sligo wore a Pride t-shirt under his ceremonial chains and Pride flags flew from the town hall.
I can only imagine the fear that must exist in the LGBT+ community now, to feel hunted through online spaces that are ordinarily used to connect and come together, that are ordinarily a lifeline for so many people. To think that these could be so easily used against people is terrifying. This kind of fear could so understandably make people afraid to live their lives openly and freely.
What the last few weeks have shown us is the risk of violence, persecution, loss of life are real for the LGBT+ community. For a community that has undergone and still experiences injustice, fear, violence and discrimination, the impact of the fatal attacks on Aidan Moffitt and Michael Snee must be nothing short of traumatising.
When it comes to homophobia, racism, misogyny or any other form of discrimination, it seems our laws can change but that doesnāt necessarily mean that we are safe.
And what can we do? It seems so futile, so useless to write these words. They wonāt stop tragedies like this from happening. They wonāt change the minds of homophobes. But I do know is there is no subject more worthy of our attention than this one.
My mind kept returning to Kellie Harringtonās hopeful message over the last week. It is the most basic ideal that should be every personās right. In a world where ye can be anything, just be yourself. Until these words are safely true for all of us, none of us should be able to rest easy. What the last few weeks in Ireland have proven is that, for many people, being themselves still comes at too high a cost.
