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A wonderful evening of queer conversation and community in Barcelona. Video by Raymon Rivera Our in-person event in Barcelona on the 24th August was a night full of conversation, connection, dancing and queer joy! Our panel of speakers lead a discussion on "Queering Your Career", exploring how we can navigate new paths forward in both our personal and our professional lives. Our Speakers: Sanjukta Moorthy (she/her) - Host Kevin Hawkins (he/him) Jen Keawphaisan (she/her) Gonzalo Parra (he/him) Special thanks to The Hoxton Hotel for their support and allowing us to use their space in Barcelona for this event. Photos by Emiliano Del Piccolo. Did you know... We organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date! While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here.

Yujx Smith talks the challenges of being open about his intersectional identity in all parts of his life, to be visible as his authentic self. By Yujx Smith In my workplace, I am openly trans – vocally trans, if I’m being honest. This isn’t necessarily a role I sought, but rather a responsibility I have adopted as the only openly trans person in my company’s UK market. I’ve been part of the Pride ERG only since January, but my work with trans issues has been acknowledged in our markets from Switzerland to Japan. Yet, in the same workplace, not a single person knows of my disabilities. I was a fairly sickly kid growing up, my mother used to joke the local urgent care centre was a second home. Even as I type this, there is pain in my right hand – chronic carpal- tunnel resulting from an art degree and a decade of scrolling on Twitter. However, it wasn’t until my 20s that I began understanding the weight of what it means to live with multiple chronic conditions. As a toddler, when it was flagged that my joints were excessively hypermobile, I attended physio briefly to learn how to sit on the floor ‘correctly’, and that was that. No one told me what having ‘hypermobility’ actually meant, or warned me it comes with chronic fatigue, or that repeated movements without proper support could cause long term, if not permanent, injury. (See: the chronic carpal tunnel) Being able to ‘tie my fingers in a knot’ was just a fun party trick, till I was 22 and couldn’t hold a dish sponge without crying. I was 21 when I finally got the diagnosis for ADHD I had first sought when I was 16. My GP at the time dismissed my concerns and opted to just up my anti-depressants instead, which of course, didn’t work. This however, perhaps as a complimentary gift for the wait, came paired with autism. It was admittedly unsurprising. And while I could sit here and detail my experiences with a variety of colourful medical journeys, my point is that for something that so clearly impacts my day-to-day life, the place I spend most of my time knows nothing of it. There is a constant fear, when you exist with a marginalised identity, of taking up too much space, of being too much. This is nothing new. What perhaps is not discussed enough however, is the burden of openness on intersectionality – how being open and authentic with one aspect of your identity can mean having to keep everything else adamantly hidden. In a society driven by capitalism, the risk of losing your income is a risk of losing everything; having a secure job, for most, means being able to survive. Being accepted as openly trans is already a privilege I have not always been granted, and truthfully, I am hesitant to push this acceptance further. Part of me wants to believe my fear of being open is irrational, my colleagues know my worth and will value me the same, but part of me knows I got significantly less responses from job applications when I was answered the accessibility questions honestly. Disability is still seen as a burden on the production of capital, and thus, a burden to the workplace. The perception of disability and neurodiversity carries a stigma that I don’t feel equipped to carry. ADHD, while experienced as a terrifying loss of executive function, is often simply seen as being ‘lazy’. This accusation is tenfold if, like myself, you’re targeted by fatphobia. This is a stigma that, when coupled with long-term medical gaslighting, often leaves people unequipped to advocate for themselves. Medical gaslighting often takes one of two forms: either the complete dismissal of illness by health professionals, or symptoms being disregarded as due to the patient themselves and not to illness. It is an experience most marginalised people will have known, but disabled people are more likely to face this on a far longer scope. Gaslighting is used - intentionally or not - because it works. To hear from people in positions of medical authority that your lived experiences are falsified or exaggerated, that you’re just making it up, works to strip away the trust in ourselves that we need to ask for accommodations because at some point you end up asking yourself - what if I am making it up? And, what if they don’t believe me? When the people in question are those with authority over your employment, and a lifetime of lived experience tells you that even the medical professionals won’t listen to you, how can we be expected to bring authenticity and self-advocacy to the workplace? If disabled and neurodivergent people are so often denied support from the very places designed specifically to provide it, with what confidence can we ask for support from anywhere else? Queerness, itself, doesn’t carry the same perceived impact on the ability to work – it is considered a personal matter, while disability is not. Disability is disjointed from the person, people often understand it as a facet, an accessory, instead of an intrinsic part of their identity. It’s something to be removed, to be overcome, even when then option isn’t feasible. The person is burdened by the body, and the body is public property. These are not conversations that are easy to have in the power dynamics of a workplace, to justify yourself as a worker. And perhaps, this is where the divide rests. Disability is an aspect of my identity that has a direct impact on my ability to do my job, other aspects do not; to be authentic carries higher risk. Despite this, I realised that my disclosure of my identity has never really been my choice in the first place. Visibility should be understood more than just in the context of acknowledgement from those unaffected; visibility dictates what degree of control we have over who we share out identities with. With all the talk of having to hide aspects of ourselves, it must be acknowledged that some simply can’t be hidden. Race, for example, or body size, visible disabilities. Where simply existing takes away your ability to control what people intimately know of you, perhaps it is understandable that we cling to hide the parts we can. When people see me, I know they won’t see any degree of my disabilities or my neurodivergence, but they will see that I am gender non-conforming. This aspect is beyond my control, it is already known before I speak a word, so my decision is instead whether or not to acknowledge it. In my workplace, I did. Not at first, for the first few months I simply stated my name and pronouns with no explanation – which should be the norm, but alas. I was lucky enough to discover community with the Pride chapter in my company however, and being open about being trans allowed me to provide education and insight into a highly cis workplace. Someone has to be the first, after all. But this comes with the presumption that this is all I am. If I’m so loud about being trans – and also gay, but people seem to forget that part – then surely, I would be loud about anything else. I must simply be a loud person. Someone at work recently called me energetic, and it’s something I’ve been dwelling on. Energetic is probably one of the last words I’d use to describe myself. I don’t think I’ve ever lived a day where I haven’t felt tired; it’s a good day if I can make it through without having to go back to bed to recover. But they’re also not wrong. Being autistic very often comes with ‘masking’ – the concept of putting on a metaphorical mask to blend in and appear allistic (non-autistic). Most often for safety, and most often subconsciously. Masking, for me, affects everything from the way I hold my muscles in my face, to the pitch of my voice, my answers to questions. Facial expressions are often not inherent to autistic people, it is something we learn to employ at the correct time. The person I am at work is inherently in-authentic because social interactions rely on communication autistic people don’t naturally have access to. While I am energetic and eager at work, that doesn’t mean I am, just the part of me I wear to work - a part that I don’t know how to undress until I have left the environment itself. Even if someone is aware they mask, the ability to stop masking is often not there; it is not easy to unlearn a survival instinct. Which leaves me wondering if I could ever truly be open in the workplace when the very ability to remove the mask is beyond my reach. While there is still the collective expectation to conform to allistic standards, to conform with able-bodied capacity and production, those who cannot meet this are othered. Authenticity is earned by the conditions surrounding it. For as much as ‘intersectionality’ has become a HR buzzword, very few people outside of these lived experiences curate a space where it is safe to be intersectional. It is vital to both challenge the mindset that being openly part of one marginalised community means someone is open about everything, and abolish ambiguity. If you’re not explicit in your practical support for a community, every person who contemplates being open is weighing the risk on knowing their job is at stake. Company policies should be clear, they should set out the protections for specific communities. Marginalised groups have different needs, and covering that with a general ‘anti-discrimination’ policy is the bare minimum. The journey towards visibility and authenticity in the workplace is a complex and nuanced one. As an openly trans and gay man, I’ve embraced the responsibility of representing and educating others through my company's only employee resource group. However, the decision to disclose other aspects of my identity, particularly my disabilities and neurodivergence, remains challenging and one I’m still hesitant to take. While there is growing awareness and understanding of intersectionality, creating a truly inclusive and safe work environment that embraces authenticity remains a significant challenge that can only be solved with our continued collective commitment. Yujx Smith (he/him) Yujx, a gay transgender man residing in London, is an art graduate who transitioned into the legal sector. He is a founder and leader of a queer World Cinema society that celebrates the work of marginalised filmmakers outside the European narrative. Currently, Yujx is working for a large international company and helps lead his workplace's Pride Employee Resource Group UK Chapter. Apart from his professional commitments, he takes a keen interest in sociological and political theories, particularly anti-fascism, queer liberation, and trauma recovery. You can find more information about Yujx's work here. If you would like to book Yujx as a speaker for a workshop or panel event, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

We closed out Pride Month in London with an evening of queer performances, conversation and community in collaboration with Locke Hotels and Effevescent Sounds. Video by Kiran SKG Our Pride month closing party in London was a night of beautiful performances by queer singer-songwriters, highlighting the importance of spaces for genuine queer expression and creativity. Our identities don’t disappear when the rainbow flag comes down, and neither do the needs of our community. As an organisation WE CREATE SPACE are committed to championing the importance of queer spaces and queer voices 365 days a year - it’s the essence of who we are! Our Performers: Akin Soul (he/they) Leo Lore (he/him) Queen Kaltoum (she/they) Bestley (they/she/he) We'd like to extend a special thanks to our partner for this event Effervescent Sounds, to Locke Hotels for providing the space and Luv Jus for providing drinks! While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Microaggressions negatively impact our workplaces every day, but we can all contribute to eradicating them. We've come up with five powerful steps for allies to take action. Microaggressions are defined as ‘subtle, often unconscious acts, words or behaviours that can communicate negative messages’ - often directed towards minority or marginalised groups. While they may seem like small, throwaway comments or innocuous statements, microaggressions can have a big impact when you are on the receiving end of them. These individual prejudiced comments accumulate over time and contribute to minority stress, where being part of a marginalised group impacts a person’s mental health and well-being. Left unchecked, microaggressions will negatively impact a workplace’s culture, creating an environment where employees from marginalised groups don’t feel psychologically safe or able to bring their full selves to work. In this guide, we’ll discuss some tangible advice on how to spot, interrupt, and speak up against microaggressions - as we strive towards creating a more inclusive, respectful and welcoming workplace for everyone. “I’m trying to be open and honest about the micro-aggressions and barriers that I may face within the workplace… If we don’t have these conversations in the workplace, then I can’t show up for myself, which then will allow me to show up for others. So I have to bring [all of my intersectional life experiences with me, as much as I possibly can.” - Chloë Davies 1. Spotting Microaggressions Microaggressions can come in various forms, such as jokes or comments that rely on stereotypes, exclusion from group activities or discussions, or using language that makes assumptions about someone’s identity. These can be directed towards individuals or groups, and are often said by people who are ignorant to the fact that what they are saying is harmful or discriminatory. “[My allies at work always remind to do this] work of explaining, patiently teaching, and transforming unconscious biases into conscious inclusion – or at least into consciousness.” - Jen Polzin 2. Self-Reflection Creating a better work environment starts with ourselves: we must reflect on our own conscious and unconscious prejudices. Take some time to think about your past actions and language and identify times where you may have been insensitive to a colleague or contributed to a negative working culture. Having noted these instances, you can mindfully correct your own behaviour in the future and notice when others make the same mistakes. Let your experience shifting your own mindset inform how you address inappropriate behaviour in colleagues. “No one is perfect, and we all have a duty to continuously learn and educate ourselves by considering how others may feel in specific scenarios. While we may not get it right every time, instances where have got it wrong present incredibly important learning opportunities.” - Ryan Zaman 3. Upstander Strategies Interrupting microaggressions can be challenging, but there are several upstander strategies that you can use to speak up effectively: Try being direct by speaking up and addressing the issue head-on. When using this strategy you should be mindful of your tone and delivery. If the person saying the microaggression feels judged or called out, they are more likely to react defensively and not take on board what you have to say. You can reference our calling in examples to ensure that being direct results in a teachable moment. Distracting involves changing the topic or using humour to redirect the conversation. While this can be a useful method to stop harmful conversations in the moment, it is important that some further action is taken to address the behaviour afterwards, whether it’s calling in the person yourself or asking the victim if they would like to report the situation to HR. Discussing invites others to engage in the conversation to share their perspectives. Inviting in additional external perspectives will also lend credibility to your criticism of a microaggression. You can also delegate the responsibility of addressing the issue to someone else. This strategy may be necessary if you don’t feel well enough educated on an issue to speak about it or if the comment has personally affected you on a personal level. Having allies you can rely on in your workplace allows you to spread the weight of responsibility for addressing bigoted behaviour. Sometimes you may want to delay and take time to reflect on the situation, before addressing it later when you feel ready to do so. 4. Using a catchphrase Having a catchphrase prepared can make it easier to jump in and neutralise a harmful conversation quickly. There are several different approaches to catchphrases you can try: Ask for clarification. e.g. “What leads you to that conclusion?” Create a learning opportunity. e.g. “Let me offer some perspective on why that language can be harmful…” Refer to company values. e.g. “That type of behaviour doesn't align with our company culture.” 5. Deescalating While upstander strategies can be effective, they may not always work, and people may react negatively to being called out for their behaviour. In such instances, try to respond thoughtfully and with compassion. Stay Calm: Remain calm and professional when someone reacts negatively to your intervention. Getting angry or defensive may escalate the situation and make it more challenging to resolve. Refusing to meet their anger may also help to diffuse their emotional reaction more quickly. Validate Their Feelings: Listen to what they have to say and acknowledge their feelings. Even if you don't agree with their perspective, making them feel heard will encourage them to take on board what you have to say. “No matter how we ourselves feel about a situation, there are always the feelings of others involved too. In the same way that you want to be heard, it’s important to show them that you’re making an effort to see their side, and not responding purely from a place of emotion.” - Tolu Osinubi Circle Back Later: Offer to discuss the issue further at a later time. This allows them to reflect on their behaviour and may lead to a more productive conversation. Seek Support: If the situation becomes too tense or the person continues to react negatively, seek support from a manager, HR representative, or another colleague. Conclusion Everyone has the power to shape and influence the dynamics and culture of their workplace. While it may require some practice, interrupting microaggressions is a valuable skill that allows you to support your colleagues from marginalised communities and ensure they feel safe and respected at work. If you’re looking for more ways to create an inclusive workplace why not check out our guide on how to better your pronoun skills or 7 steps you can take to become an active ally? Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

We celebrated Pride Month in Barcelona with an evening of queer performances, conversation and community. Video by Raymon Rivera We closed out Pride Month in Barcelona with a powerful panel discussion and performance showcase! Our speakers discussed the topic of being "Unapologetically Visible" as queer people, a salient topic as we transition through and out of Pride Season. Our identities don’t disappear when the rainbow flag comes down, and neither do the needs of our community. As an organisation WE CREATE SPACE are committed to championing the importance of queer spaces and queer voices 365 days a year - it’s the essence of who we are! Our Speakers: Barry Brandon (any pronouns) - Host Lupe Guerra Garcia (she/her) Jayce (they/he/she) Diwata (she/her) We'd like to extend a special thanks to The Social Hub for their support and allowing us to use their space in Barcelona for this event. Photos by Emiliano Del Piccolo While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Roxy Murray shows us how fashion continues to be a valuable form of self-expression in light of their experience living with Multiple Sclerosis. By Roxy Murray In a world that often and prioritises certain standards of beauty and normative identities. It can be challenging to identify as both queer and disabled and to express one’s true identity. My name is Roxy Murray, and I always knew I was queer from an early age but I never knew I was going to add disabled to the list of my identities. I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2014. Multiple Sclerosis is a disease that affects your nervous system and brain. Living with MS can bring unique challenges to one’s life including symptoms such as fatigue, difficulty walking, vision problems, mental health struggles with self perception and bladder issues to name a few. It’s known as a snowflake disease as no two individuals deal with the same effects. As someone who is living at the intersection of multiple marginalised identities it has brought a list of unique experiences into my life and many obstacles that I've had to learn to navigate. Through my personal journey, I have discovered style can be a powerful tool in embracing my identity and reclaiming my sense of power through my style choices and how I choose to adorn my body. I studied fashion styling at university, but after I became disabled I had to stop working within an industry that wasn’t accessible and although they did embrace queer individuals to a certain extent I had not seen many queer disabled individuals gracing a catwalk or the pages of my fashion magazines. Let alone working within the wider industry itself . However I could not predict how at least learning the skill of styling was going to play such a transformative role in my life, allowing me to empower my queer, disabled identity and navigate the world with confidence. Ultimately, defying the obstacles posed by my MS and celebrating my true self. Through my exploration of my own style I’ve learned that we can showcase our queer disabled identities with pride, challenge societal norms and create space for representing ourselves authentically. The act of intentionally curating our appearance allows us to defy societal expectations and demonstrate that queer disabled individuals are not defined solely by our disabilities or limited by certain fashion choices. We can assert our unique, personal style that transcends conventional boundaries and breaks the barriers of societal deems normal. By being visible, we contribute to a greater sense of community and provide role models for others who may be searching for their own identities. Choosing clothing that reflects our authentic selves allows us to feel more comfortable in our own skin and it becomes this statement of self love, reminding us that our bodies and identities are worthy of celebration. As a disabled individual, this is so important to me. Every morning, I would wake up feeling disconnected from myself, unable to dress in the way that truly expressed my identity and brought me joy. Numbness and tingling would course through my left side, while my leg began dragging behind me, a stark reminder that my body was changing and limiting my mobility. Accepting these changes and the loss of my previous range of motion was an incredibly difficult process. I was entering a new stage in my journey, so I needed to embrace my new normal. I started to find myself in bland lounge clothing that didn’t speak to my queer identity or my personal style. And when I needed to move around I had to use grey NHS style crutches. This wasn’t filling me with joy, and as an individual who feels so much empowerment through my style choices. I honestly believe it wasn’t helping my healing or mental health either. Living with MS has necessitated constant adaptation to accommodate my changing abilities, and style has played a crucial role in this process by allowing me to choose fashion to meet my specific needs. I took to the internet to look for clothes that would better suit my identity. I needed fashion that brought me joy but that I could afford to buy especially living in the UK. This is where I first came across adaptive fashion and mobility aids. My journey started online, where I came across a Canadian invention, a really cool bright yellow mobility aid that looked like a bike. It helped to ease my pain and filled my Pansexual body with joy–yellow being one of my happy colours. From there, I began to explore other mobility aid brands, and one of my favorites is Neo Walks—a small company that creates mobility canes designed to infuse disabled individuals' lives with a delightful blend of disability pride, fashion, and queer joy.They have recently appeared in Vogue UK and on the Hollywood red carpet with celebrities such as Selmar Blair and Christina Applegate championing the brand. With the rise of adaptable clothing, lines and inclusive design, we’re finally starting to find stylish options that prioritise comfort, accessibility and functionality for everyone but especially queer disabled individuals. From easy to wear fabrics to adapted closures and adjustable fits, these clothing options allow us to dress with confidence, accommodating specific needs that we have without compromising our style. This is both refreshing and acknowledges disability, but also embraces the intersectionality of our queer identities. It recognises that queer disabled individuals exist within a complex web of identities and fashion, becoming a means of expressing the multifaceted nature of who we are. Through adaptive clothing lines that cater to different body types, gender expressions and styles, we can celebrate our intersexuality in showcasing the beauty and diversity within the disabled queer community. My journey didn't stop there, though. When I delved further into adaptive fashion, I discovered that there were only a handful of brands owned by disabled individuals. Most of them focused on selling essential items like underwear and workwear, which, while beautiful and necessary, highlighted the urgent need for increased funding and support to push the boundaries of stylish, adaptive design. I believe that style and a focus on being stylish will play a crucial role in navigating this transformative change and ushering in a new era of fashionable adaptability for the next generation. So I started to use my voice as a trained stylist to talk about what needs to change and how including queer and disabled voices in the creation of this would mean better branding and clothing options that connected with us as consumers especially when statistics predict more than a third of the disability community also identifies as LGBT+. I do feel designers and the industry professionals in the space are listening and trying to shape the adaptive revolution to be more of an empowering disabled-led community. Designers like Victoria Jenkins from Unhidden clothing put on an amazing show at London Fashion Week this year. They had individuals with a range of disabilities and sexual identities grace the runway to showcase their designs which were both functional, colourful and fashionable. I was lucky enough to be one of the chosen few to have this honour to represent our community. As well as British Vogue's May cover special series and article which featured an array of disabled icons, such as Aaron Phillip Rose, Selma Blair, Fats Timbo, Sinead Burke and many more. This powerful feature aimed to redefine the limits of fashion, demonstrating that one can be disabled, fashionable, and queer. When I embarked on my journey with MS and sought to redefine my personal style, I could never have imagined the remarkable transformation that would unfold within the fashion industry itself in just a few short years. It is truly awe-inspiring to witness the evolution of an industry I believed was forever out of my reach, now actively carving out spaces that not only embrace my queer identity but also honor and accommodate my disabled identity. This profound shift not only validates my own experiences but also paves the way for a more inclusive and diverse fashion landscape. Roxy Murray (she/they) Roxy is a fierce advocate for disability rights and sex positivity as a pansexual person living with Multiple Sclerosis. She's the founder of The Sick and Sickening Podcast, sharing unfiltered stories about living with disability and illness. Roxy's mission is to empower disabled and chronically ill individuals using fashion as a tool of activism - creating space and pushing for visibility for people from ethnically diverse backgrounds and the LGBTQIA+ community. You can find more information about Roxy's work here. If you would like to book Roxy as a speaker for a workshop or panel event, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Sebastián Bruno Dalla Ba' writes about his evolving relationship with his impaired eyesight, how he navigates through daily life, and how he experiences the perceptions of others. by Sebastián Bruno Dalla Ba' Embracing the Beauty of Low Definition: My Evolving Relationship with Vision. Since I was born, I was affected by high myopia - meaning I have extreme nearsightedness. Nobody realized this. Until I started 1st grade in primary school. I believed that the world was like I saw it: blurred and in low definition. Finally, when I was six years old, my teacher realized I needed glasses: she moved me from the back of the room to the front row. There was a time, when I was around 15 years old, I discovered contact lenses. A life without glasses was introduced to me. And in a connected way, I was discovering my sexuality as a gay teen. Being overweight, having effeminate traits, and being a nerd was quite a challenging combination for a child growing up in the 90s and early 2000s. However, I was only able to use contacts for a short period of time: my eyes got sore if I wore them too much. So, I had to go back to glasses, but this had pros and cons, as contacts work better than glasses if you have a stronger prescription (aka more diopters). After high school, going to university wasn’t easy for me. Always in the front of the classroom and asking for help from my friends to read the whiteboard. While I was studying, it never occurred to me that I could have a disability - things had never been explained to me that way before. In 2010, everything changed for me when I underwent eye surgery. This transformative procedure allowed me to bid farewell to glasses, bringing forth a newfound clarity and brightness to my vision. I can still remember that day leaving the clinic and noticing the difference in my sight. Everything looked so bright and sharpened, I had pain, but that sensation was unique for me. For a decade after my surgery, life was truly wonderful. The significant improvement in my vision brought a sense of liberation. During this time, I enjoyed fulfilling relationships with my boyfriends, to more casual relationships, embraced my identity as a gay man by coming out to my family, friends, and colleagues. I even purchased a car, mastered my driving skills, and embarked on numerous exciting travels. But, in May 2019, my blurred vision came back. In order to slow further deterioration, my doctor prescribed me 3 injections into my eye, one per month. The Power of Acceptance: Embracing Life with a Partial-Sight Disability. When my blurred vision unexpectedly returned, a new nightmare began: my health insurance refused to approve the costly treatment. I made countless calls, sent emails, and even resorted to sending faxes in an attempt to obtain their approval. I remember an employee from HR who suggested I get a disability certificate in order to make authorizations easier. This forced me to confront the fact that I do have a disability. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, a Swiss American psychiatrist, a pioneer in near-death studies, defined The Change Curve in 7 steps. From the initial shock until the last one, the part of problem-solving. When I decided to get my CUD (In Argentina, for the Spanish acronym of “Unique Disability Certificate”) it was an important milestone to accept my condition. Acceptance is not about resignation or quitting. For me, acceptance is owning my condition and trying to live the best I can under my circumstances and what’s realistically possible. Another interesting approach that was healing for me was summarized by another Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst who founded analytical psychology, called Carl Jung. He said: “We cannot change anything unless we accept it”. In just eight words, he articulated my feelings and thoughts so clearly. Navigating Society's Perception: Insights on Disability in Spain. In May 2021, I finally moved to Spain. Some months later, I figured how to get my CD (“Disability Certificate” acronym for Spain) here. I faced the same situation that I did in Argentina. Here, I had to reply to several questions about my condition, my work, where I live, with whom, and a lot of personal questions that I was sensitive to disclose. Eventually, I got a letter from Social Services where they wrote down my percentage of disability, which determined the amount of support/adjustments/benefits I would be eligible to receive. In Argentina, it was just about upload documents and tests to an online platform and wait for the response. I didn’t face a personal examination to get it. From 0 to 33% you are considered mildly disabled, then from 34 to 65% you are in the big group of affected people, and if you’re over 65% you are considered severely disabled. But, What happens if you’re 32%? Or 64%? I mean, just 1% more or less puts a person in a worse or better position under rights and benefits. Or maybe, between 34% or 63%, these two groups of people receive the same treatment under the law, but their condition is completely different. This demonstrates that while percentages may serve as a practical means of assessing disability on a societal scale, it can lead to significant and disproportionate consequences for individuals who rely on state support to enhance their quality of life. “I can host”: The Impact of Sight Loss on Intimate Relationships. A couple of months ago, I started to chat with a random guy on Grindr. Some nudes and messages later, we decided to meet face to face. It was winter, and days were very short: the darkness of the night rises really early for me. He suggested meeting at his place, he gave me his address, I googled it and I discovered he lives in an area unfamiliar to me. As I am partially-sighted, I feel uncomfortable and vulnerable when I explore places that are new to me, especially at night. Some parts of Barcelona are not particularly well lit and street sign names are quite small and located with no logical reason in a super high position. So, what am I to do? Do I need to explain all of these things to a new person that I don’t even know, and in person? Or maybe, is it better to make up something out of the blue?: “Hey! I can’t meet at night but during the week I can because I’m doing an online origami course, do you prefer to meet up on weekends during the day?” Instead, I said: “Hey! I have a projector at home, in my bedroom, would you like to meet at my place? It’s perfect for Netflix.” So instead, he came to my apartment. Chatting with him face to face was something forgettable: he left while the popcorn had been popping in the microwave. And that shows how I often manoeuvre situations to accommodate for my needs. Illuminating Perspectives: Reflections and Insights from My Journey. Unfortunately, living a life in ultra HD 8K clarity is beyond my reach. In reality, I can only perceive half of what a typical person can see. I must confess, jealousy occasionally creeps into my heart when I witness others' effortless visual abilities. Countless individuals have never set foot in an ophthalmologist's office—no tests, no glasses, no contact lenses, no surgeries, no blurred vision. Yet, amidst it all, I’m aware that I am a privileged person compared to many others out there, and for that, I have a lot to be grateful for. In the face of this reality, hope shines through. These limitations don’t overshadow my resilience. I adapt to the circumstances, finding alternative solutions and embracing the tools that facilitate my productivity. The desire for a richer visual experience drives me to explore technologies and accommodations that amplify my capabilities. I may not experience the world with pristine clarity, but I have learned to cherish the beauty that lies within the limits of my vision. Sebastián Dalla Ba (he/him) Sebastian was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina in the late 80s. Since 2021 he has lived in Barcelona, Spain. He got a degree in Marketing and since then he had been working in the consumer goods industry. In 2022 he joined Amazon and he collaborates in creating content for vendors and sellers. He is an active member of different affinity groups, such as: Glamazon (LBGT+), PwD (People with Disabilities) and Latinos. Also, he writes for online magazines about retail trends, sustainability and urbanism. Three years ago, he co-found his own swimsuit brand oriented to gay and non-binary people. While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Polo Lonergan writes about the importance of accessibility being built-in from the ground up to improve the workplace experience and inclusion of all employees. by Polo Lonergan In my first two years of university, I survived. I partied, but nowhere near as much as my housemates as it took me many days to recover my energy each time. I routinely fell asleep mid-conversation, head on the table. My housemates were used to it and continued without lowering their volume, knowing it wouldn’t wake me. I was always, always in pain. At some point it became untenable and a doctor suggested that I should see about getting help as a disabled student. It had never occurred to me. Within a couple of weeks I received an extra monitor, a table to work on my laptop from bed, and free taxis to lectures. Life-changing: my grades shot up within a month. Before that, I hadn’t realised that I was navigating an environment not designed for me. As I continue through my career with fluctuating but ever-present chronic health problems, that feeling has never quite left me. Who are our offices designed for, and why do we shape our days in the way we do? Why do so many of us have the perception that being present in an office is the optimal choice for everyone’s careers? With the corporate world in flux, I’m convinced we can use this time to change the way we create and adapt our working culture so that no one has to feel out of place, no matter how their bodies and minds function. My body has been through a lot. As a child, I had malfunctioning kidneys, mild incontinence, and epilepsy, so I was already familiar with crusty hospital food. At the age of eleven, I broke my leg femur twice in four months - once in a road traffic accident, and then again when the leg refused to heal properly. Then in 2011 I spent a week bedbound with the worst headache I could ever have imagined: the urgent care doctor told me it was sinusitis, then my GP told me it was stress. Thankfully, I asked an optician to check why I couldn’t see properly, and he sent me to the hospital immediately. Turns out I had an uncommon, incurable disease which accounted for many of the issues I had faced before. Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension (IIH) is an excess of cerebro-spinal fluid in the head/spine that results in headaches and other pain, difficulties with vision (and vision loss for some), pulsatile tinnitus, and intense fatigue. Though weight loss helped me manage some symptoms, I still have numerous difficulties with my eyes and deal with pain and fatigue to varying levels every single day. All this makes my experience in the office space much harder than it needs to be, and easier than it once was; having spent ten years in retail and call-centre environments, I want to stress that I know office workers are already fortunate compared to some environments. Last year I had surgery to give me a better chance at getting chronic severe anaemia under control. Six weeks off work felt terrifying; I would return to find my role unnecessary, I thought, or people would judge me for needing it at all. I realised I was afraid because I had done such a good job at hiding how chronically unwell I was that this was a form of ‘coming out’ as disabled. My own internalised ableism was harming me: it was easier being out as non-binary and queer as at least then I didn’t have to worry about (most) people assuming I couldn’t do my job. Disabled people navigate a world not designed for us, and while no one is designing our work spaces with the intention of limiting access, that’s still the end result. It’s time to open up our idea of work beyond presenteeism to give more people the space to thrive. There is no one right answer. Sharing space with others while working has its clear advantages: our quick chats can put energy and connection into your day. That connection can often facilitate collaborative work more efficiently than online professional communication. For some, working in an office provides a social outlet and a way to build morale to get through the more difficult or mundane daily tasks. I enjoy larger events where I can connect with my colleagues face-to-face, and it has made important relationships much smoother. However, did we learn enough from three years of many corporate spaces moving to a work-from-home model? When we saw our workplaces adjust immediately to a virtual environment, many disabled people realised that those accommodations were already possible in practice, and only impossible through culture. To return to the previous style of work without these discussions can feel discouraging and ultimately alienating. We have designed our office spaces and working arrangements with only abled people in mind. This is not good enough. In the last few years, we have had the opportunity to expose opportunities to change the way we work. Many of those adjustments would make it much easier for some people to thrive. Imagine a workplace where each person can be trusted to uncover the best option for themselves. Instead of being required to be present in the office a certain amount of days per month, we could assess our own health and abilities day by day without the assumption of laziness or “quiet quitting”. I have consistently worked hard through these strange years; arguably I have been more productive as I can reduce the effect of pain and fatigue on my work. I can sit in the dark when I’m having difficulties with my vision. I can wear earplugs or turn down the headset volume when I can’t handle noise. I know I’m not the only one, and none of this means I’m less invested in doing well in my role. In fact, all of this makes me much, much better at my job than when I dragged my painful, overstimulated body into the office five days a week. While we’re at it, what other futures can we imagine? What if accessibility became a moot point? We could build offices with it as standard, so that few accommodations are needed for people with various needs. We could bring disability activists into the planning of these spaces and look for opportunities to create a new standard. We could provide screen readers, braille signage, and low-light spaces. We could uncover new models of workdays, bending the hours around our needs as well as the needs of the company. We could encourage remote work when it’s the best fit for an individual, no matter the reason. We could normalise and encourage virtual connection between colleagues and provide mentoring opportunities to avoid any stagnation of career due to less physical presence in the office. This conversation is an important first step, and what matters now is using this unique opportunity to change the shape of our office culture before it becomes solid and unchangeable once again. Together, we can shape a future where no one feels out of place, and where the true measure of success lies in the fulfilment and well-being of each person, rather than conforming to outdated norms. Polo Lonergan (they/them) Polo is a queer, non-binary person navigating the intersection of activism and corporate culture. With years of experience as a queer community builder in their area of Canada, Polo is focused on bringing the same enthusiasm and support to the workplace as an out(-spoken) agender/non-binary person. You can find more information about Polo's work here. If you would like to book Polo as a speaker for a workshop or panel event, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Mark Travis Rivera writes about his experience with Cerebral Palsy, and how it intersects with his Queerness in all parts of his life. by Mark Travis Rivera Crippled at Birth. While some people become disabled, others, like myself, are born disabled. My mother gave birth to me at five and a half months, extremely premature and weighing in at one pound, my mere survival was a miracle, and I would grow up as a child with cerebral palsy. While my physical disability has become less apparent, partly because of surgery, over 15 years of physical therapy, and my dance career, my cerebral palsy will not stop being a part of who I am and how I navigate life. Long before I discovered my queerness or understood the concept of race, ethnicity, or socio-economic class, being born premature and living as a disabled child taught me what it meant to be “othered.” Being othered at such a young age taught me how to develop tough skin and gave me the audacity to be seen and heard for exactly who I am in all areas of my life, including how I show up professionally. Crippled at Work. As a full-time creative entrepreneur, I’m proud to exist at multiple intersections as a queer, disabled, Latinx femme man. While I have had many successes in my career, I can’t help but think of how my intersectional identities and outward expression of my authentic self have prevented me from entering certain rooms. Due to anti-discrimination laws, companies didn’t tell me this was why I was passed over for a job or didn’t get a promotion. Still, it was the microaggressions and sometimes overt aggressions that I experienced that reminded me that who I was and how I showed up was an issue for some people. During the interview process for my first role after graduating from university, I had to make many decisions to ensure how I showed up didn’t negatively impact the prospect of getting the job. At the time, I opted to wear a suit and tie, which is the norm, though the societal stance on professional attire is evolving. I kept my nails on but painted them nude to prevent them from being too distracting, and I chose not to wear makeup. While transgender, gender nonconforming, and non-binary identities were just beginning to emerge in the lexicon of conversations in everyday life during the time of my interview at John Jay College of Criminal Justice, many people were and continue to be uninformed, misinformed, or confused about what those identities mean. The woman responsible for hiring me, Rosann Santos, an Afro-Latina from the Bronx, admitted that she didn’t know what gender nonconforming meant as it related to my attire and that she hired me because of my professional experience and skills. After explaining that I wore dresses, heels, and makeup, she responded, “You can wear whatever you like. There is no official dress code policy, as long as your body parts aren’t showing…wear what you want.” On my first day on the job, I wore makeup but dressed more conservatively because I was not convinced she or the school was genuinely ready for a person like me working at the college. Later that day, I told her about my identity and how I express myself through clothes. She assured me that I was supported because she doesn’t believe people can do their best work if they can’t be their authentic selves in the workplace. The next day, I showed up in a dress and heels. When I had to use the bathroom, I expressed my anxiety about using the men’s room when I was wearing dresses because of the anticipated stares and remarks that guys may say as they saw me entering the men’s restroom. Upon expressing my concerns, she gave me access to the all-gender, single-use bathroom in the wellness center. I would spend the next three and half years working at John Jay because I was supported and encouraged to be my whole self. I didn’t have to suppress, alter, or deny who I was. I just had to be true to who I was so I could do good work. Crippled and Proud. We live in an unprecedented time–for marginalized people worldwide. We aren’t simply fighting for equality or a more equitable society where we all have the same fundamental human rights and liberties; in some countries, we’re fighting to maintain the freedoms we were guaranteed. For instance, when the Supreme Court decided to go against precedent and overturned the Roe V. Wade decision in the United States, we started to see the rolling back of reproductive rights. Returning the reproductive right to abortion to the states to decide has led to a handful of states passing some of the most extreme abortion bans. This ruling also made other marginalized people worry about their human rights, leading to the US government codifying marriage equality. President Biden signed the bill to ensure LGBTQ+ Americans don’t lose the right to marry who they love. While I have had many successes in my career, I can’t help but think of how my intersectional identities and outward expression of my authentic self have prevented me from entering certain rooms. As an openly disabled, queer, femme Latinx man, none of this surprises me. In the US and around the globe, there has been a dramatic increase in anti-LGBTQ+ laws that aim to dehumanize, restrict fundamental rights, and in the most extreme cases, kill people who are LGBTQ+. It is no wonder that these attempts to roll back civil liberties and human rights have led to increased suicide attempts and mental health challenges for LGBTQ+ youth. For many trans people in the US, unemployment rates are higher, and studies indicate that many trans people are underemployed and more likely to experience workplace discrimination. Through My Lens. If workplaces want to be equitable, they must examine how their culture fosters discrimination against marginalized people. Despite disabled LGBTQ+ people existing, more often than not, disabled people are dehumanized and desexualized. The work ahead is plenty, and while it can be frustrating at times, I am hopeful that a more inclusive and equitable workplace is possible if we all commit to doing our part to dismantle systems that aim to keep us oppressed. I am a proud Latinx man. I am a proud queer man. I am a proud disabled man. I am a proud femme man. I am all of who I am, and I don’t plan on altering my authenticity to “fit in and belong.” To quote researcher-storyteller Dr. Brené Brown, “True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.” Mark Travis Rivera (he/him) As a professional storyteller and consultant, Mark Travis Rivera focuses on intersectionality through the lens of a person who is a Latinx, queer, gender non-conforming, disabled man. He has addressed audiences at various institutions of higher learning, including Harvard, MIT, Rutgers, and NYU. As a diversity, equity, and inclusion professional and facilitator, he has spoken to corporate audiences virtually in the UK, Canada, Mexico, Latin America, Israel, China, and India, just to name a few. You can find more information about Mark's work here. If you would like to book Mark as a speaker for a workshop or panel event, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Voices from our global leadership speaker collective share the We Create Space queer manifesto. WE CREATE SPACE is committed to championing the importance of queer spaces and queer voices 365 days a year - it’s the essence of who we are. We've created this video manifesto with the help of our global speaker collective as a reminder that Pride is not just for the month of June, but is a year-long commitment and endeavour. Will you commit to taking up space with us? The We Create Space Manifesto. Taking Up Space: Queer 365. Queer spaces have always dared to creatively challenge ‘what’s possible’ - places where we are able to express ourselves freely, learn and grow as a community, and as individuals. They are essential for us to thrive personally, professionally, and fundamentally help pave the way for a more sustainable queer-inclusive future. Pride must signify Progress. And, in order to evolve the movement’s legacy, we too, today, must continue to fight emphatically. We must cause cultural commotion, be engaged, be visible and vocal. When we take up space, we empower ourselves and model a way forward for other Queer people who haven't seen themselves reflected in media or society. In doing so, we honour our queer ancestors and carry the torch of progress forward. We know that our Queerness doesn’t disappear when Pride season ends, or when the rainbow flag comes down. We deserve the space to be ourselves 365 days a year, not just for the days that society publicly celebrates our identities. Now more than ever we need queer spaces - ones that allow us to rest and recharge, to self-reflect and centre ourselves, to propagate community and solidarity. As part of the We Create Space Queer Leadership Collective, we’re committed to taking up space, this month and every month - to create a world that is just and equitable for all LGBTQ+ people. A world where individuals lead with love and influence positive social change. And a world where we can shine as individuals, celebrating and embracing our unique gifts and perspectives. Will you join us? A special thanks to Yassine Senghor, Erica Rose, Michael Edward Stephens, Taofique Folarin, Shawn Aaron, Jennifer Polzin, Ahmed Shihab-Eldin, Andre Johnsen, Marley Conte, Ale Rebon, David Kam, Andrew Seedall, Calvin Stovell, Christopher McDonnell, Sophia Emmerich, Dr. Christopher Owen, CK and Bekky Harrison for contributing to this video. While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Nancy Di Dia shares how her experience as a Lesbian Executive informs her leadership style and Christina Hyppolite shares how Nancy's perspective has helped her thrive. Nancy's Allyship story... In the 1990’s being LGBTQIA+ in the workplace was a challenge. We argued whether it should be GLBT or G&L. Queer or I were not part of the acronym, however we were a big part of the workplace—secretly. You knew the other LGBT colleagues in the workspace, and you were either part of an ERG, socialized with these colleagues outside of work, but kept that part of you private. So much so, you almost never referenced your significant other. We were using pronouns before it was cool to do so. Fast forward to current day workplaces, More than 20% of Fortune 500 companies offer some type of gender affirming care. In our workplaces, intersectionality should always be integrated in any type of DEIB work, especially if organizations are keen to support their LGBTQIA+ workforces. Intersectionality brings forth the many demographic identities that define an individual. The challenge of being an LGBTQIA+ executive involves many considerations with respect to how you lead. Identity and expression are both very personal and can change for individuals over time, based on their comfort with their workplace culture and the space organizations create for inclusiveness and belonging. I chose to share my identity and expression as part of my authenticity and candor. Having experienced discrimination, jokes, comments, and curiosity about my “lifestyle” rather than my orientation, led me to stand strong in the face of vulnerable times and societal challenges. I realized the impact for LGBTQ patients, their challenges in the healthcare spaces, the lack of understanding of our needs, our bodies, our hearts, our minds, and the ultimate disparities this ignorance has caused in our society. Consequently, I chose to leverage my orientation to foster the expression of diverse perspectives.For example, why would a same sex couple need to show a civil union certificate when heterosexual couples who lived together could claim dependent care? Being able to provide diverse perspectives and shine a light with a different level of insight can better help organizations attract, retain, and develop talent as well as serving diverse communities. When people choose to join organizations, one of the validating factors is to look up and see if there is anyone that may be relatable or reflect a diverse style to which you may aspire. This is key for underrepresented groups primarily from a race, sexual orientation, gender identity/expression and abilities perspective too. Being comfortable being you—is not only palpable to others but sets a platform for others to feel safe and secure in being their authentic selves too. Workplaces that can prioritize equity, inclusion, belonging and of course, diversity by having LGBTQIA+ executives in leadership may bring different insights and consideration to various decision-making processes. This also signals to clients, providers, and potential talent that your organization truly values Diversity & Inclusion. My identity as a Lesbian executive has provided me with deeper insights on the many other groups who experience exclusion, marginalization and microaggressions in the workplace as well. There is a heightened sensitivity which has provided me with the capacity to be bold, courageous and an amplified collective voice for the excluded. Being present and open in the workplace is a platform for others to choose to be out with their identity. Adjusting the workplace, benefits, and culture to ensure full inclusion is an ongoing effort and requires explanation so the classic cisgender leaders can understand the underservice of an employee segment. When one lives with privilege and is not exposed to diversity of others beyond race and gender, unintentional exclusion may occur. This is why our leadership is crucial to ensuring equity across all employee segments, especially LGBTQIA+ and those with disabilities, who are neurodivergent, or have long-term health conditions. Finally, the burden of being in the closet in a workplace or society carries heavy weight to the heart and soul which impacts mental well-being and overall health. Our leadership is not only key to advancing cultures of inclusion, but impacting the markets and talents we continue to want to attract and retain. Christina's Allyship story... Growing up as a first-generation Haitian-American has many challenges. However, one thing I have always been certain of is the resilience of my ancestors’ bloodline, which has fueled me throughout my career as a diversity, equity and inclusion practitioner. I strive to channel that same reverence and strength throughout both my personal and professional life. I attended a Historically Black College in North Carolina, and that experience alone equipped and empowered me to not only take up space as a person, but also to embody the leader I desired to be by advocating for myself and others. The HBCU environment is designed to assist us in creating a healthy and supportive environment; as a result, they lead with inclusion, culture and belonging at the forefront. It is crucial to note that this specific design is intentional and unique to how these institutions function and are structured. This particular structure has fueled my passion for DE&I and my thoughtfulness in how I approach allyship, support other underrepresented groups, and define this culture in traditional corporate spaces. After all, the truth is that workplace culture is not often designed with Black and/or marginalized identities in mind, which is regularly exhausting, mentally draining and harmful. When this experience is combined with multiple identities—such as being both Black and introverted in the workplace— it can sometimes leave you feeling misunderstood. This is why it’s important to position yourself with leaders and allies who “get it” (i.e., understand and empathize), and who make the time to create space for you, so that you too can take up space. We’ve all had our share of micro-managers throughout our careers, which is never a fun experience. I dealt with this a lot in previous roles, but never realized how harmful it was until I was able to join a healthy and supportive work environment. As a leader, Nancy took the time to understand my working style, my communication style, and what was important to me as a person. She also took a dedicated interest in understanding what my professional goals were, where I saw myself in the organization and the field, and inquired about professional development areas that I wanted to invest in. From there, she explained that, together, with her help, I could achieve these goals. When these types of conversations regarding personhood and ideals take place and meaningful action is applied, it creates a psychologically safe environment. This allows for people to see and be seen—and to feel as though they can continue to be their authentic selves. Nancy creates space. She disrupts the status quo, both when people are watching and when they are not. Furthermore, she also understands the impact of refusing to be complicit. I have witnessed her work tirelessly to uplift, empower, and advocate to create equitable spaces for Black people unapologetically. More importantly, I have seen her not care who it makes uncomfortable in the process. To me, these types of behaviors are at the core of allyship. When these behaviors are modeled and on display for other leaders to see, it will permeate the culture to create one wherein other leaders strive to follow and embody these behaviors. Nancy recognized through her experience and journey as a lesbian woman in corporate America—although similar in some cases, but ultimately very different from mine—that she had the power to facilitate transformation and influence change for other people that are often underrepresented and mistreated in corporate environments. She recognized the importance of this influence and dedication not only in the team she led, but also throughout the organization. She shows up as her true, authentic self, and openly and publicly makes mistakes. She then welcomes the opportunity to learn from them, which is an important part of an inclusive and supportive culture. Doing this important “work” can be heavy at times, but it is so important to feel supported, have the ability to take pause, and know when to prioritize your mental health and not feel guilty about it. Witnessing Nancy take charge as a leader and thus experiencing her support has enabled, challenged, and empowered me to be great in my work as a DE&I practitioner—which is a true gift that I will forever be grateful for. If you would like to book Nancy as a Speaker for a webinar or panel discussion, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co About the 'My Ally and Me' story-telling series: At We Create Space we always aim to lift and amplify the voices of our global queer collective of change-makers. However with this story-telling series we wanted to give LGBTQ+ leaders the opportunity to bring an ally into the conversation and explain how their valued support has shaped their personal and professional journey. While you're here... Did you know we consult with 100+ Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Rahim El Habachi, orginally from Morocco writes about his experiences as someone seeking asylum in the UK, eventually finding community in theatre. by Rahim El Habachi I uprooted my life from Morocco six years ago and found myself in the UK, a place that was never my first choice. But to understand why, let me tell you the story of how I came to reside here. When I came to terms with my identity as a gay man, I discovered that the LGBTQIA+ community not only faced disapproval within Islam but was also deemed illegal in Morocco. The Penal Code 489 condemned the very essence of the LGBTQIA+ community, subjecting its members to imprisonment ranging from three months to three years. This realization shook me to my core, questioning my existence and shedding light on the absence of visible gay role models or any queer representation in the media or society at large. Seeking solace, I turned to the internet and chat rooms, hoping to find my community and answers to why I am, who I am, and how I could navigate a world that seemed unwelcoming. Unfortunately, most of the people I encountered online were merely interested in my sexual preferences, reducing my humanity to a mere label. Then, I encountered someone who would change my life—let's call him 'Hassan.' Hassan, an experienced member of the community, or what we call in the community ‘’lassyana’’, the equivalent of a Mother of a house in the ballroom community, introduced me to the vibrant queer community in my hometown of Agadir. To meet my gay friends, I had to go to the other side of town, leading a double life. During the weekdays, I was Abderrahim, lost and disconnected. But as the weekend approached, I transformed into Abida, fierce, confident, and unapologetic. The more I embraced my true self, the harder it became to return to Abderrahim. Trouble followed as I became more visible, catching the attention of my parents, who began to tighten their grip, imposing curfews and heightened control. Eventually, I made a leap and moved to Casablanca, where I discovered an even larger LGBTQIA+ community driven by a collective desire for change and activism. We campaigned tirelessly, demanding our rights, speaking out about our needs and wants. Sadly, our pleas fell on deaf ears. Instead of progress, the situation worsened, with the government intensifying its repression. I experienced police harassment, unjustified searches, and the constant threat to my freedom. Even my place of residence ceased to be a sanctuary as neighbors' discovery of my sexuality, resulting in frequent relocations. Despite the hardships, I never entertained the thought of leaving Morocco. It was where I envisioned my future, until the day a dear friend of mine was arrested, plunging my optimism about the future into darkness. I reluctantly booked a flight to the Netherlands, knowing full well that I would never use the return ticket. Joining my two closest friends who had already sought asylum there seemed like the only ray of hope. But upon landing, fate dealt me another cruel blow—under the Dublin Convention, the Netherlands decided to deport me to the UK. Devastated, I realized I was being forced apart from my community, my chosen family. I longed for the freedom to choose where I could live, but my pleas to stay in the Netherlands were in vain. The UK, desperately eager to receive me, became my new destination. I found myself placed in Cardiff, Wales, and I despised everything about it—the asylum seekers' house, the bleak buildings, and the incessant rain that mirrored the gloom I felt inside. I had hoped for a life-changing transformation and the freedom I yearned for, only to be greeted by yet another curfew. To add to the anguish, my asylum claim was rejected by the Home Office, and the court turned down my appeal. Seeking solace, I sought refuge in a local gay bar, only to be denied entry due to the ID issued by the Home Office. In that moment, I couldn't help but question if this was the reality that lay beyond the rainbow I had chased my entire life. But fear not, for my story takes a turn toward happiness—I’d soon be enveloped in a shimmering embrace of hope. Once again, I turned to Google in search of solace and discovered 'Glitter Cymru,' an LGBT group that convened monthly. It was through this group that I found strength and purpose—a raison d'être. What began as a social gathering, filled with laughter and conversation, soon transformed into something much greater. Glitter Cymru became a powerful advocate for the rights of the LGBT global majority, particularly asylum seekers and refugees. It became a resounding voice, amplifying our stories and demanding justice, not just for ourselves but for all those who shared similar journeys. In the embrace of Glitter Cymru, I discovered my true passion for the arts, particularly theatre. I found my voice through playwriting, using the stage as a platform to shed light on the issues faced by the global majority. With every script, every performance, I strive to challenge stereotypes, break down barriers, and provoke meaningful conversations about the struggles and triumphs of our community. Through theatre, I have found a way to channel my experiences and emotions, to touch the hearts of audiences and inspire change. It’s a tool that allows me to expose the injustices and discrimination we face, to humanize our stories, and to cultivate empathy and understanding. In this pursuit, I have discovered a vibrant and resilient community, a collective of artists and activists dedicated to creating a more inclusive and equitable world. Together, we stand tall, refusing to compromise our worthiness, and making sure that our stories are heard. Glitter Cymru has brought me happiness, belonging, and a sense of purpose. It has given me the strength to embrace my identity and the courage to fight for a future where the LGBTQIA+ Global Majority can be who they truly are and accepted and included in mainstream LGBTQIA+ spaces. Through theatre, I continue to shine a spotlight on the issues that matter to me, hoping to ignite change and forging a path towards a more inclusive society. Through the medium of theatre, I passionately strive to create impactful experiences that resonate with the LGBT Global Majority community. By focusing on the issues that deeply matter to me, I aim to ignite change and contribute to the ongoing journey towards a more inclusive society. In my upcoming play, I am delving into the intricate power dynamics within the LGBT community and exploring the significance of safe spaces, particularly outside of the UK and Europe. By shedding light on the concept of true privilege, I seek to foster a deeper understanding of the diverse experiences faced by the LGBT Global Majority, I am hoping through my show and shows that my colleagues are creating, they will bring more clarity and understanding to our lived experiences and I sure would hope to see you among the audience. I would like to finish with this quote from Alok Vaid-Menon: “How are you supposed to be believed about the harm that you experience when people don't even believe that you exist?’’ - From their book Beyond the Gender Binary Ok if you insist here is another one “Be yourself until you make them uncomfortable” - Rahim El Habachi Rahim El Habachi (he/him) Rahim is a Moroccan gay Refugee living in Wales, who is a playwright, actor, and belly dancer. Upon discovering that he was living with HIV, he became an advocate for eradicating the stigma surrounding HIV. Rahim is passionate about creating safe spaces for the LGBT global majority, as well as for asylum seekers and refugees. You can find more information about Rahim's work here. If you would like to book Polo as a speaker for a workshop or panel event, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with 100+ Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

After spending a year travelling the globe, Luke Lopez reflects on how living as a digital nomad has changed his outlook on life as Queer person. Here are 8 lessons he learned along the way... By Luke Lopez By July 2021, I’d gotten my second does of the vaccine, and at the same time, I’d received an email that Remote Year (a company that organizes and facilitates a unique travel program for digital nomads) was back in action, and I had this immediate feeling of, “Now’s the time, if not now, then when? If you don’t do this now, you never will.” That’s why when the idea bubbled up in me, I knew without a doubt that it was finally time to realize one of my biggest dreams since my early twenties. So I took the leap, paid that down payment and started preparing. In Dec 2021, I left Toronto in search of a new beginning. Something to heal the last few years spent enduring a traumatic global pandemic and push me into post-traumatic growth. It was time to do the around-the-world travel year I had been putting off. I lived and worked remotely for 12 months in 12 countries with a group of 14 digital nomads, traversing the globe from Dec 2021-Dec 2022. We started in Latin America, headed to Europe, then to South Africa, and finished in Asia. Taking a broader perspective, in today's world, it’s crucial to acknowledge the persistent injustices that still plague the lives of queer individuals around the world. At the time of writing, it’s still illegal to be LGBTQ+ in 64 UN member States, according to a new database by ILGA World. Many also criminalize transgender people. 13 countries do this mostly using “cross-dressing” laws. The simple act of waving a rainbow flag, or holding hands with your partner, or expressing you’re queer could be dangerous and unthinkable. However, amidst these challenges, there are also reasons for celebration. Over the past 30 years, 49 UN member States have decriminalized consensual same-sex sexual acts. Over 34 countries now recognize marriage equality, and at least 15 acknowledge a neutral gender-marker on passports. As LGBTQ+ travellers or nomads, we must approach our journeys with intention and planning to ensure our safety and well-being while abroad. 1. Unfolding Identity and Recognizing Global LGBTQ+ Realities. As I embarked on my journey, I discovered that it was not just an exploration of the world, but also a profound journey of self-discovery. How had I been changed by the pandemic? What did I need to purge? Did all those years of therapy really sink in? Who am I after my divorce? Contrary to popular belief, travel doesn't always provide an escape; instead, it confronts you with your true self and the experiences that have shaped you. Through travel, I found that it uncovers your deepest truths, allowing for more clarity and self-awareness that often eludes me at home. Being a queer traveller opened doors to unfolding my identity in ways I never thought possible. The varying degrees of LGBTQ+ acceptance in different cities, with some offering vibrant queer spaces and communities while others lack them entirely, highlight the significance of embracing one's true self wherever you go (while prioritizing safety). In Medellin, Colombia I still recall being in the park with a date and both of us being aggressively frisked by the cops just for sitting together holding hands. This was so wild to me, especially growing up in Toronto where that would never happen. We were both terrified, luckily, nothing worse happened. That said, we both left that incident shaken. This reminds me that our experiences as LGBTQ+ people depending where we’re born are so vastly different and to never take our liberties for granted. 2. Owning My Authenticity and Unveiling Multitudes. During my adventures abroad, I made sure to assess the LGBTQ+ vibes of each city and fully own my queerness in unique ways. In Peru, I rocked some killer nail art. All year I proudly displayed my LGBTQ+ pins on my jean jacket collar. In the later part of the year, I went all out and dyed my hair blonde and then after a striking hot pink, as an act of unapologetic self-expression. In Vietnam, I indulged my fashion craving by getting custom-made clothes that perfectly matched my style. But the ultimate highlight was my epic Britney Spears-themed birthday bash in Bali. I rocked a "Oops I Did It Again" custom outfit, and to my absolute joy, I had 25 fellow travellers join in the fun, with over 12 of them wearing their own custom outfits. It's essential to stay true to yourself no matter where you go and refuse to dim your light based on your environment. Also, turns out, there's a massive gap between being a traveller and a tourist. When you actually live in a place rather than just visiting, it completely changes the way you see things. Living in a place gives you a whole new perspective and allows you to explore different sides of yourself. It's like trying on different versions of you, and each place you live in brings out a unique aspect of your personality. It's surprising how these experiences can shape you and bring out new dimensions of who you are, especially when it comes to your queerness. And here's the best part: these amazing multitudes you unlock during your travels? They stick with you long after you've left those places behind. 3. Tapping Into the Power of Community and Global Connections. Unfortunately, social acceptance doesn’t always translate into legal rights, so be aware of those disconnects when you’re traveling and know beforehand what the reality is for queer locals by doing your research. I witnessed firsthand the profound impact of inclusivity and allyship through my group. In reality, a trip like this will attract more white straight cis-het middle class folks, but there were still also wonderful POC and queer travellers that I met along the way. Plot twist, I made more white, straight, male-identifying friends/allies than ever before, healing some of my own childhood trauma/stigmas in the process. I’ll never forget when a friend from Toronto sent me a story about a A Trans Activist Who Was On His Honeymoon In Bali Who Died After Police Detained Him. It shocked me to read and made me incredibly scared to enter Indonesia. In a panic, I shared this with the group I was traveling with, and my friend Matt messaged me to say that if I ever felt unsafe, I shouldn't hesitate to reach out to him for support, he’d show up no matter what. That moment of reassurance and allyship meant everything to me, as it allowed me to trust that someone had my back. I entered Indonesia cautious but with far less worry. Community-building on a global scale has been one of the most remarkable and rewarding aspects of my journey. The ability to connect with people from different corners of the world, and form friendships on a global scale is truly extraordinary. This gift of a global network of friends pays dividends in ways that are immeasurable — enriching life tenfold. 4. Conquering Challenges and Discovering Hidden Strengths on the Path to Personal Growth. No adventure is complete without its fair share of triumphs and challenges. Language barriers, unfamiliar customs, and unexpected obstacles tested my resilience. I never did fully learn as much Spanish as I thought I would, but that’s ok, I got by with what I knew (and google translate). But through these experiences, I grew stronger, more adaptable, and more self-assured. For instance, I never considered myself a hiker, I hate being in pain or discomfort, like most folks. I used to grimace at the invitation of a hike. However, when I embarked on the challenging ascent of an active volcano (Fuego) in Guatemala, enduring a gruelling nine-hour hike (while with a stomach bug, damn altitude!), and witnessed the awe-inspiring spectacle of its eruptions occurring every 15 minutes, I was not only captivated by the grandeur of nature but also deeply amazed by the remarkable capabilities of both my body and mind. In that moment at the summit, I realized that few achievements can rival the profound sense of accomplishment derived from such a remarkable feat. Sometimes, the thing we dread most doing can be the most fulfilling and unforgettable. 5. Adopting a Digital Nomad Lifestyle for Freedom and Cultural Enrichment. Amidst the allure of this newfound digital nomad lifestyle, I soon discovered the challenges that came with it. Finding balance became an ongoing struggle as I navigated different time zones, grappled with my physical limitations, inconsistent productivity, and dealt with constant change. The fatigue and travel burnout were very real. It took some time, but I discovered new ways to sustain myself while on the move, allowing for the flexibility to explore and create simultaneously while prioritizing what brought me a genuine sense of freedom. Ultimately, the goal became making work not the center of my identity, just a part of it. Also, technology became my ally, offering support on-the-go, connectivity, and the ability to build communities, work through challenging situations, and maintain my relationships back home and all over the world. I discovered a deeper sense of security, when I realized that my close relationships can endure and thrive across vast distances. Experiencing firsthand the nuances, traditions, and customs of various cultures provided me with an enriched outlook on the world. I was eager to stay ahead of the curve, I relished in the emerging remote work culture of a post-pandemic world and the innovative ways in which digital nomads were shaping the future of work. 6. Navigating Reverse Culture Shock and Finding Belonging in a Changed City. Returning from such a transformative journey was not without its own set of challenges. Initially the familiarity of home felt strangely foreign, and I grappled with reverse culture shock. I was grieving who I was before the pandemic, the little pocket of camaraderie I had with my bubble of close friends who, without fail, I played board games with every weekend for almost two years during the pandemic. I struggled with ambient grief, feeling a sense of loss for the experiences I missed in Toronto while I was gone and a longing to make up for lost time in my friends’ lives. It’s like I travelled to the future where everything looked the same, but everything felt vastly different. That sense of being out of place persists as I readjust to a changed city, it's colder culture, and pace, challenging my sense of belonging. The exorbitant cost of living adds to the uncertainty about staying in Toronto long-term, prompting me to question my long-term goals and explore alternative models for my future. Despite the disconnection from the city itself, I still found an anchor in the connection and care from my chosen family and loved ones. 7. Rediscovering Who I Truly Am. Ultimately, this adventure was more than just ticking off destinations on a map and fulfilling a lifelong dream; it was a profound exploration of my queer identity, a challenge to define what a fully realized life means to me, and a rediscovery of who I truly am. I was able to start to see my life from different vantage points. One where I could live a life of my own design, which I’m still figuring out now as I integrate all that I’ve experienced and learned from my travels. As a queer nomad and traveller, what I cherished most was to live without the traditional expectations and milestones imposed by a heteronormative society. Instead of lamenting what I didn't have, I saw endless possibilities ahead surrounded by other folks who had the same outlook as me. Experiencing the world, fundamentally shifts your internal world. When you’ve gone through that much change, your ability to adapt becomes second nature. 8. Redefining Home. l've come to realise that the idea of home no longer becomes confined to a physical place or specific location. Instead, it encompasses the deep connections I've forged with amazing friends from all over the world, the nurturing routines I've established for myself, and the overall sense of belonging and comfort it evokes. Home is now a rich tapestry of relationships, self-care practices, and a profound feeling of contentment. It's knowing at the end of the day that I can create home and be proudly queer anywhere I go. Luke Lopez (he/they) Luke is the Head of Marketing for We Create Space, a Freelance Art Director and a passionate speaker. Before joining We Create Space, he was the co-founder and design director of DESALU Creative. You can find more information about Luke here. While you're here... Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

We explore what 'active allyship' means and techniques we can all employ to help others and provoke change. What does true allyship mean to you? Are you aware of gaps in your knowledge and want to educate yourself further on the experiences of others and how to handle certain situations? Check out our team's tips below! Breaking It Down: What is 'Active Allyship'? An ally is someone who provides support and assistance to members of a marginalised group without being a part of that group themselves. This doesn't mean that an ally is without marginalizations - an ally's commitment to a cause may be driven by experiencing injustice in other areas. By allying yourself with a marginalised group you strengthen their power and provide added legitimacy to their claims. In moments of pushback, you can offer support and protection. 1. Embrace Vulnerability and Discomfort. Being an ally is a constant learning journey. In advocating for people who have different experiences from you there is inherently a lot to learn. Culturally, we treat being wrong or not knowing something as failing, but these moments are actually opportunities for learning and growth! 2. Know How to Address Your Mistakes. Being able to recognise your own shortcomings and address them maturely is a key allyship skill. Avoid getting defensive when someone corrects you or gives you constructive criticism of your allyship. When corrected, simply saying thank you is enough. Being overly apologetic or engaging in self-victimising behaviour makes the situation about you and your feelings, rather than the marginalised people you are being an ally to. 3. Tap Into Your Own Sense of Justice. Think about a time when someone has stood up for you or championed your voice and how that made you feel. We all have the power to make the people around us feel seen, heard and uplifted. As an ally, you have been granted privileges and ways to succeed that the groups you are fighting for have less access to, but you can lessen that disparity through your allyship. 4. Keep Learning. Allyship requires consistent work and effort. Your allyship learning journey is yours to navigate and it is important that you seek out education independently and not ask marginalised people to do the work for you. Identify the areas of weakness within your own knowledge and begin to fill them in using trusted resources (such as our We Create Space Library). 5. Stand Up and Speak Out. Finding the courage to be the person who speaks up when something isn't right can be difficult, but systems of injustice will continue to perpetuate themselves until we disrupt them. Be confident that even if it ruffles a few feathers, you are doing the right thing. By visibly standing up for what you believe in you can help inspire these people to start their own allyship journeys. 6. Be Mindful in Confrontation. As much as possible, try to meet people where they're at with an open mind and call in rather than call out. Displaying aggression, judgement and negativity will often trigger defensive behaviour. Instead, try to approach the situation from a place of curiosity while illustrating the flaws in their argument. You can share your own opinions and values but allow them to come to their own conclusions. 7. Stay Focused and Committed True allyship comes from a desire to do good and make a genuine difference in the lives of the people you are advocating for and it's important not to lose sight of this. Your allyship should not be driven by your own ego or a need for approval from others. The people you're fighting for should always be the benefactors. Find internal satisfaction in knowing that you're doing your best to harness your individual power to try and better the world. Conclusion Active allyship is a powerful tool for change that we all have the ability to harness. Being an ally means living in awareness of systems of oppression and doing our best to disrupt and dismantle those systems where we can. Allyship is like a muscle and the more you practise and get into the habit of addressing microaggressions, discrimination and bigotry in the world around you, the easier and more natural it will feel. Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

As we launch into June, let's take some time to consider how we can centre what Pride season is really about. It’s that time of the year again, and Pride is finally upon us! It’s a season of celebration, inclusion, joy and remembrance of those who have come before us. That being said, as the celebration of Pride month has grown exponentially over recent years, we wanted to uncover what the spirit of the season is, as well as what it isn’t. 1. Pride is a celebration of diverse sexual orientations and gender identities. It is not a single monolithic experience. PRIDE encompasses a vibrant tapestry of identities, including but not limited to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual, and pansexual folks. 2. Pride is a commemoration of the struggles and achievements of the LGBTQ+ community. It is not a mere party or parade. It recognizes the historical and ongoing fight for equality, human rights, and dignity, paying homage to those who paved the way for progress. 3. Pride is an affirmation of self-acceptance and authenticity. It is not a platform for judgement or exclusion. It encourages individuals to embrace their true selves and express their identities free from societal constraints while promoting inclusivity and understanding. 4. Pride is a call for visibility and representation. It is not about erasing other identities or experiences. It seeks to amplify the voices and stories of marginalized folks, fostering an environment where everyone's unique journey is acknowledged and respected. 5. Pride is a platform for advocacy and activism. It is not an excuse for performative allyship. It urges allies to go beyond rainbow symbols and engage in meaningful actions that challenge discrimination, support LGBTQ+ causes, and dismantle systemic oppression. 6. Pride is a reminder that the fight for LGBTQ+ rights is far from over. It is not a declaration of "mission accomplished." While progress has been made, discrimination, violence, and inequality still persist. PRIDE inspires individuals to continue advocating for change and standing up against injustice. 7. Pride is an intersectional movement. It is not disconnected from other social justice causes. It recognizes that identities are complex and interconnected, acknowledging the importance of addressing issues such as racism, sexism, ableism, and economic inequality within the LGBTQ+ community. 8. Pride is a catalyst for education and dialogue. It is not an excuse for ignorance or avoidance. It prompts individuals to educate themselves about LGBTQ+ history, experiences, and terminology, fostering empathy, understanding, and meaningful conversations. 9. Pride is a safe space for self-expression, love and acceptance. It is not a threat to anyone's rights or values. It is not an invitation for voyeurism or objectification. It encourages people to express themselves authentically, but respect for boundaries, consent, and personal autonomy should always prevail. Did you know we consult with Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Our in-person event in Barcelona on the 24th May was a night full of stimulating conversation, music, connection and queer joy! Our panel of speakers lead a discussion on "Queering Your Culture", exploring how reclaiming traditions can lead to healing and community building. Our Speakers: Jolinda Johnson (she/they) - Host Yeison Forero (he/him) Kali Sudhra (they/she) Shimar Guyo (she/her) Special thanks to The Hoxton Hotel for their support and allowing us to use their space in Barcelona for this event. Photos by Emiliano Del Piccolo. While you're here... Did you know we consult with 100+ Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Jua O'Kane shares with us their experience of polyamory and how it has helped them develop as a more self-aware, independent individual. by Jua O'Kane I felt my first inclinations towards polyamory when I was a teenager and struggling to commit to a closed relationship with my then potential boyfriend. I’d only been with men up to that point and I wanted the freedom to explore my sexuality if the opportunity arose. Caught between my affection for him and my desperation to explore my queerness, I wondered why it had to be either or. It’s been almost eight years since then and I’ve spent the majority of that time in a mix of open relationships, having multiple committed partners and solo poly dating. The optics of talking about polyamory as someone who is bisexual or attracted to more than one gender can be complicated. I’m wary of feeding stereotypes of the greedy, unfaithful bisexual, unable to satisfy their sexuality while in a monogamous relationship. I’ve been monogamous in the past and I probably could be again in the future - my choice to practise polyamory has infinitely more to do with embracing the joy of human connection than it does “satiating” my attraction to multiple genders. Polyamory has also been a vital tool for my own personal growth. I’ve struggled with codependency throughout my life - I’d fall into a relationship, get deeply attached and then forget how to take care of myself or be my own person. Getting intentional with how I practise non-monogamy and navigate romantic relationships in general is what broke the cycle for me. It started with my long-term girlfriend breaking up with me a month before Christmas in 2021. We were long distance and I wasn’t seeing anyone else at the time, which manifested as intense codependent behaviours on my side that were tearing us apart, as much as we loved each other. She told me, in a metaphor I’ve repeated countless times to other people in similar situations: “You’ve been drowning for a while now, and I keep trying to hold you up but now I’m starting to drown too. It’s time to stop treading water and focus on getting to shore.” I travelled home for Christmas, cried countless tears and tried to explain to my mum that no, this wasn’t like my last break up, this was different. By January I had channelled my sadness into determination, resolving to build a better life for myself, find independence and end this cycle of blowing up relationships with my mental health. I returned to Plymouth and kept myself busy, forcing myself to spend time with friends, practise DBT skills, go on dates and attend local queer events even when I didn’t feel like it. I realised I had a rich network of people around me and that codependent urge to dump all my woes on a single partner gradually diminished. ‘Taking care of yourself does not mean “doing it all alone”. Creating a good relationship with yourself is not done in a vacuum, without a relationship to other people… It is important that we are able to be alone, of course, and some people do need to withdraw from outside relationships to a certain degree, until they feel really comfortable with themselves. Sooner or later, though, we need the reflection that a relationship gives us.’ (Shakti Gawain, Living in the Light) In monogamous relationships we often expect a partner to satisfy a significant range (or all) of our needs. Consciously rejecting this notion has opened up a much wider range of potential partnerships to me. There are plenty of people I have dated who I couldn’t have sustained a monogamous partnership with, whether that be down to incompatible life goals, sex drives, interests or values. But being able to pursue multiple intimate relationships relieves the pressure on a partner to fulfil my every need - I’m more able to appreciate relationships for what they do give me, rather than what they lack. There’s great pleasure in finding mutual understanding over where my compatibility with a date lies. They might not be the kind of person I’m going to text daily or see every week, but that doesn’t mean that the time we do spend together is any less valuable to me - it’s just a different type of partnership, one that has a lower time commitment but is still highly emotive and caring. To me, polyamory is not just about having multiple partners but about bringing intention and thoughtfulness to how you carry out those relationships. Non-monogamous dating tends to have more up front communication about desires and boundaries than monogamous dating does; non-monogamous people are used to being explicit about the existing partnerships we have and what we’re looking for in new connections. I try to approach dating intuitively and without expectations, allowing the relationship to unfurl as it sees fit. Embracing the natural ebb and flow of romantic relationships feels much less scary when you view them not as solid, defined entities but as energies that are in constant flux and negotiation. When we try too hard to label and control relationships, we destroy them. Then, we spent a lot of time and energy fruitlessly trying to bring them to life again. We must be willing to let our relationships reveal themselves to us. (Shakti Gawain, Living in the Light) I’m friends with most of my exes, because generally we’ve been able to recognise when we have outgrown our romantic relationship and it is no longer serving our needs. There’s a very cishet, monogamous adage that all relationships either end in marriage or break up. It positions break ups as a unilateral defeat, a failure of both parties to make a relationship work. But break ups can be a tender undoing, a celebration of growth, an admission that you can love a person deeply and no longer be right for them. Queering traditional relationship structures enabled me to embrace this fluidity. I don’t need all my relationships to last forever or be transcendentally perfect. Being present and embracing the expansive connective possibilities of the people around us, without setting expectations or trying to control the form those relationships take, has brought me the most fulfilling connections of my life so far. In saying this, I can illustrate the fulfilling potential of polyamory all I like, but inevitably the question of jealousy looms above it all. It’s the comment I get most when I tell people that I’m poly - “How do you deal with it? I would get so jealous!” The secret is: so do I. I have some natural propensity for polyamory in that I’ve never been particularly physically territorial or cared about my partners being intimate with someone who wasn’t me - generally it elicits a response of, “Cool! Did you have fun?” But I’ve also dealt with periods of horrific, crushing jealousy in my time being polyamorous - I actually couldn’t bring myself to finish this article for several months because I was dealing with one such period. Watching my long-term partner develop another serious relationship and cohabit with that person while we have remained long distance has been the ultimate test for me. While I’ve found non-monogamy can increase the viability and longevity of long distance relationships, it can also produce a kind of desperate jealous sadness, knowing your partner is with someone else when you miss them so terribly. It’s a kind of intense physical discomfort that gnaws at your insides. What I’ve spent the last several months learning is that owning your jealousy and picking apart the insecurities it manifests from is the key to letting it go. I’ve had to communicate my needs regularly; asking for reassurance and affirmation when I’ve needed it, carving out regular virtual quality time with my partner while we’re apart and setting conversational boundaries during periods where I’ve felt emotionally vulnerable. The moment it finally all clicked was on the tube in London. I had gotten the train down for the weekend to meet my girlfriend’s other partner for the first time. I was under the weather and took the only available seat, while they stood. When some seats freed up a few stops later on the opposite side of the carriage and they both sat down, I found myself watching the two of them like an outsider. They spoke quietly, hands gently resting on each other’s knees. That gnawing feeling began to swell up in me, my chest and stomach tensing. But then I remembered what a difficult time my girlfriend has had in the last year, how much she’s struggled with her health and living situation. Catching her in a moment of happiness, as she talks to her love on the train - it doesn’t matter that that person is not always me. I never want to limit the places where she can find happiness. The jealousy left and I remained watching them, albeit with a new sense of calm. Having struggled with emotional regulation for a long time, being poly has been like strength training for me. I’ve learnt so much about anxiety management, processing discomfort and releasing ego from my relationships. I’m a stronger, more compassionate and well-rounded person for living this way. Polyamory isn’t viable or desirable for everyone, but I think the lessons it has taught me are universally valuable. Jua O'Kane (they/he) Jua is a trans and non-binary illustrator, graphic designer, creative practitioner and researcher from Northern Ireland. Their current research is centred on creating new narrative frameworks to explore transgender experiences through intuitive art making. Jua’s illustrations navigate the intersections of queer identity, technology, relationships, spirituality and religion. You can find more information about Jua's work here. If you would like to book Jua as a speaker for a workshop or panel event, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with 100+ Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Yassine Senghor and XaaV, Sanjukta Moorthy and Andre Johnsen discuss anti-racism through their own intersectional lens and share practical ways to confront personal and organisational bias, to influence inclusion and racial equity for LGBTQ+ people of colour in the workplace. Like any habit, anti-racism requires a conscious decision to pursue it as a goal and way of being. Even as Queer leaders and DEI advocates, we often resort to existing within networks that resemble who we are. How then do we challenge our personal biases and identify where they are supported by institutional power and dominance? When we can get curious and understand how bias impacts our behaviour towards LGBTQ+ people of colour, can we start to facilitate meaningful allyship that eradicates micro-inequities based on presumptions or ignorance. Watch this session to... - Challenge unconscious biases and become consciously inclusive. - Learn to take action against racism and enact change in your workplace. - Create moments of connection to understand the experiences of LGBTQ+ colleagues from racialised backgrounds. - Expand your comfort zone with useful tools and resources for uncomfortable conversations. Learn more about our Yassine Senghor's work. Learn more about our Sanjukta Moorthy's work. Learn more about our Andre Johnsen's work. If you would like to discuss booking one of these speakers for your own session, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with 100+ Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Kayus Fernander, Katya Veleva, MK Getler and Manuel Schlothauer discuss the importance of Financial Wellbeing and its influence on our state of mind. In this panel discussion, we explored how to intentionally create better financial outcomes for LGBTQ+ people and the impact of emotional and psychological resilience in negotiation and self-advocacy, as well as the role allies play in knowledge and resource sharing and facilitating trust between historically excluded groups and financial systems and institutions. Overview of session: ‘How we exist in the financial sense is informed by the way we view ourselves and our relationship with money.’ For many LGBTQ+ professionals, achieving financial stability rests upon their ability to unlearn societal and generational narratives surrounding survival, shame, and self-worth. Advocating for themselves can still feel taboo, especially when pursuing careers within industries or organisations that lack Queer role models and diverse leadership. The compounding effect of discrimination over time has also increased financial fragility rates, particularly among transgender, non-binary people and LGBTQ+ women of colour. Financial wellbeing is a critical goal for the welfare of ALL within the community. Watch this session to... - Understand financial wellbeing from a LGBTQ+ and intersectional lens. - Reframe societal and inherited narratives of success, failure and self-worth. - Explore the role of allies in closing the financial education gap. - Identify financial resources and information to help LGBTQ+ employees gain more financial stability in the face of unexpected events. Learn more about Kayus Fernander's work. Learn more about Katya Veleva's work. Learn more about MK Getler's work. Learn more about Manuel Schlothauer's work. If you would like to discuss booking one of these speakers for your own session, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with 100+ Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!

Through strong symbolism, Dr. Paul Taylor-Pitt takes us gently through the emotions and effects on our mindsets we can experience as a result of enduring minority stress. by Dr. Paul Taylor-Pitt Take a moment to feel your heart beat. You might do it in the conventional ‘two fingers on the wrist’ way, or the cinematic ‘finger on neck’ method which personally has never worked for me but looks very cool. If you can, see if you might still yourself to the point where you can sense your heart beating in your chest. Notice its rhythm. Its movement. Become aware of your heart’s determination to keep you alive. Your heart is both a muscle and a mentor. It is a barometer of your internal landscape. We talk about it in so many different ways to give words to emotions that otherwise have no language: heart felt, heart racing, heart breaking. But why the attention on the heart I hear you ask. This is International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia (IDAHOBIT) not Valentine’s Day. Well my mission today is to encourage you to listen to the language your heart is speaking when you consider your relationship with and experiences of homophobia, biphobia, transphobia and other forms of aggression, pain or abuse that we may have been subjected to just for existing as ourselves. How is your heart feeling about this? When I ask my heart, it seems like it’s initially too busy to reply. It’s on a treadmill (wearing a cute headband btw), while on the phone, signing documents and watching something on tv all at the same time. My heart is working hard. If I offer it the chance to come off the treadmill, sit down and breathe it initially resists it. There’s too much to do just to keep us alive! Slowing down feels counterproductive to all the productivity that I need to produce. After a little coaxing, it settles into a comfy chair, breathless and sweaty but starting to calm down. I reassure my heart that it’s ok to slow down for a while so we can have a chat. I ask how it’s doing at the moment. It pauses, closes it’s little heart eyes and checks in with itself. It says “I’m tired”. The world we live in values speed and productivity and FOMO and saying yes to everything. It’s exhausting. Our attention spans get shorter which makes it more difficult to be truly curious about stuff that doesn’t need to be done right now. Often with so many competing demands, the small voice of our heart asking us to make time for ourselves, or to slow down, gets ignored in the various voices competing for our attention. This can be a path to burnout or compassion fatigue. To truly hear our heart we must show ourselves compassion by slowing down and offering ourselves the gift of quiet space. Only then can our heart be honest with us. I tell my heart that I hear how tired it is. It gives a little sigh of relief. It tells me how it has had to build itself up so it doesn’t get hurt. It reminds me of the times someone called me a poof in the street, or I read a headline in the press that made me want to make myself smaller, or less. My heart gets a bit emotional when it talks about those lonely, quiet evenings as a child when I felt so alien in my own home and wondered if I would ever be happy as a queer person in a hostile world. Once my heart has blown its nose and had a mouthful of tea, it starts to smile, remembering some of the adventures we’ve been on together - particularly the ones where I listened to it and followed it. When it puts the tea down, I notice that its arm has quite a bit of definition to it. Welcome to the gun show! I tell my heart that it’s looking pretty buff and it blushes a little. Then it notices that actually, it’s pretty beefy. It has stamina and strength. It could probably throw a car if it came to it. All of those moments of stress, panic, doubt, fear, risk, trauma…they were like dumbbells for the heart. It picked them up, grunted, lifted them and became stronger even when it shook. My heart has never shrunk itself even when my head wanted it to. My weird, gay, unconventional heart has helped me grow despite - and sometimes thanks to - all of the potential pain that comes with living our authentic lives as queer folks. Growth through adversity is not only possible, it’s our right. Claiming the power that comes with realising this can liberate parts of ourselves that have wanted to break. Our hearts are strong. Our hearts can take it. As my heart gets back on the treadmill, it looks over it’s (quite defined) shoulder and gives me a cheeky wink. “I’ve got you” it says, getting on with its job of keeping me alive, surviving, growing and thriving. I take a sly look at its peachy heart ass and it speeds up a little, not quite racing but definitely pounding harder. Take a moment to check in with your heart again now. Maybe give it a little thank you for making you who you are today. Tell it you’ll visit again soon and maybe compliment it on its power. It’ll heart that. Dr Paul Taylor-Pitt (he/him) Paul is an award-winning Organisation Development Specialist, Mentor, Coach and Facilitator with three decades of professional experience to draw from. He was named one of HR Magazine's Most Influential Thinkers in 2022. You can find more information about Paul's work here. If you would like to book Paul as a speaker for a workshop or panel event, please get in touch with us via email at hello@wecreatespace.co While you're here... Did you know we consult with 100+ Businesses, ERGs and Change-Leaders providing bespoke corporate solutions? Through consultancy we design shared learning experiences, produce DEI insights and craft bespoke content that support individuals with strengthening their roles as change-agents within their communities and organisations. Find out more here. We also organise FREE community events throughout the year! We offer a variety of ways to get involved - both online and in person. This is a great way to network and learn more about others' experiences, through in-depth discussion on an array of topics. You can find out what events we have coming up here. New ones are added all the time, so make sure you sign up to our newsletter so you can stay up to date!