Adrian Lowe: My death threat shows ugly homophobia is still thriving

I received my first serious death threat at the weekend.

I say this not to be dramatic but simply to recount what happened on the streets of Perth as I merely dared to walk home.

With three friends, I was crossing James Street where just hours earlier I’d marched with thousands of others to celebrate Pride and the LGBTQIA+ community.

There’d been niggles of homophobia earlier on Saturday night — the sidelong glances on the street while wearing rainbow colours as I approached the parade area; the angry teenagers who busted through the parade area muttering anti-gay comments later in the evening — but it was at 4am the full ugliness came through to me.

“Why are there so many f.....g fags on the street tonight?” a mid-20s man demanded.

Perhaps unwisely, I bit back. But I’m tired. I’m tired of having to justify my existence, to defend my right to walk in public dressed how I want, to be who I am, without being attacked. I also felt like I needed to stand up for myself and show I wasn’t scared.

“F..k off you homophobe” I retorted, refusing to make eye contact and continuing to walk on.

The response was immediate: “Say that again! What did you call me, c..t? I’ll kill ya! I’ll kill ya!”

Fortunately for me and my friends, nothing more serious eventuated from this horrifying encounter but while I was largely able to brush it off as just another knuckle-dragger, two of my friends were quite rattled and it certainly put a dampener on a day intended to be a celebration. Other friends commented there appeared to be more visible anti-queer sentiment this year.

What could I have done? Sure, I could have not responded — but why should he get away with it? I could have phoned the police — it was a threat to kill, after all — but with no decent description of what my assailant looked like, what good would a report have done?

I fear the queer community is increasingly at risk of danger from incidents like this being more overt, and violent. Emboldened by populist politics that queer people are a danger to children and society at large, homophobes are increasingly confident there will be no repercussions to their actions.

While this is nowhere near the danger the queer community faced in decades gone by, anyone expecting marriage equality was the end of the fight (and many do) is deluded.

Just this year, there’s been spates of anti-gay violence in Perth, Melbourne and Canberra. Public queer figures are defamed by political opponents. Queer and trans kids are being used as political pawns to attract people who don’t understand the complex scientific issues behind their being because the politics of fear is a lazy (and easy) way to attract votes.

It’s why corporate support for events like Pride, and advocacy of the community, is so important. Queer people — and all people — should feel safe and supported at work. But the more initiatives that support the community are rolled out into all levels of workplaces, the more chance there is that anti-queer sentiment can be addressed. It can’t be allowed to increase.

We remain behind in this State and this country on basic queer rights. Gay men in WA — whether in a relationship or single — still cannot access surrogacy, despite no such restrictions existing anywhere else in the country, while our archaic and invasive Gender Reassignment Board was only scrapped earlier this year.

Meanwhile, intersex people in this State still face invasive medical procedures at birth (a major consent issue) and nationally, gay men still cannot donate blood despite repeated major shortages even though there have been changes in the UK and the US allowing them to do so, though fortunately this may change early next year under reforms by the Australian Red Cross Lifeblood.

People often suggest to me — and frequently post on social media — that Pride celebrations are no longer necessary. Where is straight pride, keyboard warriors often angrily insist, conveniently forgetting that they often don’t have to worry about whether someone is going to pass judgment on them or treat them differently based on who they love, or how they look.

Events like this at the weekend prove they are still needed. Pride remains a protest — against deeply entrenched harmful attitudes that endanger the lives of our fellow Australians.

If you’ve ever said you’re an ally of the LGBTQI+ community, this is a time when we need you. Stand up, be heard, push back on anti-queer sentiment. Our fight for basic respect is nowhere near over.

There has been plenty to celebrate this Pride. But there’s much more to work to do. Homophobes — and the people on Facebook who will inevitably react to this column with a laugh or angry react — take note. We’re not going anywhere.