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Activism, Brighton and me: We campaign on Brighton’s roads, we kiss on the beach, we embrace on the Pier, we dance down the streets.

Growing up queer in an age of political division, it is very easy in today’s current climate to get swallowed up into a black hole of fearful journalistic pieces. We are surrounded by hollering headlines on war, violence, corruption, greed and selfishness. It appears that the world has become a systematic pattern of the powerful abusing the innocent, and leaving the middle men to pick up the pieces in a helpless handful.

A politically divisive culture often drives people into isolation and a lack of community. We are segregated in every aspect of our life, it doesn’t matter what labels are placed on this separation – the left or the right, the government or the people, the good and the bad – you are forced to pick a side, without sight of a no-man’s land lying between our political trenches.  As someone who is passionate about political journalism, it takes a lot to not let the world around me become bleached into monochrome, losing its beauty and its colour to the black and white newspaper articles that predict doomsday without hope of parole. 

This is why Brighton has biome my salvation, allowing me to live a full life, enjoying the world as though it is a delicious spoonful of some delicacy, whilst also constantly pushing and driving for the injustices around us to be recognised and challenged. The way to crave life and all it has to offer, whilst also engaging with the often depressive route of activism is self expression, something that Brighton has in abundance. 

“Activism can be painful, demoralising, and often feel like a never ending battle to not only achieve basic human rights, but also maintain them. But remember that simply existing, whilst refusing to exist in pain or silence, is as activist as it can get.” 

The other day I went for a drink at R-Bar, where a drag queen and king night was taking place. Individuals dressed head to toe in feather boas, bold stripes, slashes of crimson lipstick and glittering eyeshadow, leather gloves and skin tight fishnets. It was enchanting to see, in an age where gender identity and self expression is being so heavily demonised in the media, with states all over America scapegoating their dangerous politics and projecting the blame onto drag queens and kings, that boldness and pride were still in full explosive effect here in Brighton. Legislation is spreading like wine on a wedding dress, from Tennessee Republicans issuing dozens of anti drag bans to propaganda perpetuating an image of the queer community, and in particular bold self expression, posing a threat to public safety. 

This proposed rhetoric that the LGBTQ+ community is a dark paedophilic danger to the youth of today is not a new idea, with instances dating back to campaigns such as the 1977 Save Our Children and the 1978 Briggs Initiative that suggested banning gay and lesbian teachers from a misguided fear that queer attraction is corrupted and perverted – 46 years later and this misconception is still poisoning government decisions. Yet there we stood, in the peachy neon lights, the music half drowned out by roars of laughter and whooping cheers while stiletto heels dragged across the floor and arched acrylic nails drew patterns in the air. The show was magnificent, the smoking area packed with all types of people entwining themselves in gleeful embraces. You cannot secure our absence, only fuel our resistance.  

Queer people have been pushed to the sidelines, we lie between the pages, our names are hidden within the lines of ancient history books and political articles, except when the people in power are somehow able to spin a web of fiction that can project blame and shame onto us. Yet we are still an explosive presence, cultivating a culture of intense joy, passion, expression and beauty. 

The Queery

Our expression does not just exist under a sweltering spotlight, or roared into an open mic audience. We thrive in the volumes of literature where our voices will not be silenced, emulated through events such as the Queer Bookclub on November 5 or the Bits and Pieces workshop on November 30 – both events being hosted at The Queery on George Street. We exist in the power of dance to prove that we will be expansive and brave, even in a climate of political divisiveness, exemplified by events such as GirlFlix at the Cellar Arts Club. We celebrate history through art via events such as the LGBTQ+ History Club: Queer The Pier, at the Brighton Museum & Art Gallery

We campaign on Brighton’s roads, we kiss on the beach, we embrace on the Pier, we dance down the streets. We have an insatiable need to be radical, and in Brighton it is the bystanders who stand out, and those who choose to exist in authenticity that blend in. 

From LGBTQ+ bookshops, cafes, restaurants, bars, clubs, parties, gyms, and so much more, Brighton has encapsulated one of the most powerful forms of rebellion. Of course, loud protests and angry cries for justice hold their own, important platform in the activist world. But, if you really want to crawl under the skin of the bigoted, bitter individuals, resistance lies in pure, concentrated, unbridled joy. In leading a blissful, celebrated, passionate life, crammed with laughter, and love.

Activism can be painful, demoralising, and often feel like a never ending battle to not only achieve basic human rights, but also maintain them. But remember that simply existing, whilst refusing to exist in pain or silence, is as activist as it can get. Brighton has utilised this to the best of its ability, which is why when you walk down Brighton pier, you will see that people aren’t crippled by attempting to fight the monsters of our political world, but instead are peaceful in the knowledge that we can affirm our identity and our place in the world simply by just being. 

We will refuse to be stamped out by pessimistic headlines or disruptive legislation. With love in our hearts, and grins on our faces, we fight back, in joy and in pride. 

FEATURE: If you’re young and queer – Brighton is the place to be!

There’s no doubt about it, if you’re young and queer – Brighton is the place to be. Known for its eccentric bars, thriving nightlife, artistic flair and progressive values, it wasn’t a difficult decision for me when I turned 18 to pack my bags, and enter into the bustling hive of life here in the city that has earned itself the unofficial title as ‘the gay capital of Britain’.

Picture the iconic scene where Dorothy moves from black and white Kansas into the startling City of Emeralds. My hometown felt like a chewed up piece of gum that had lost all its flavour. The yellow brick road (more commonly known as the M23) trundled me away from the monochrome town that I had squeezed every last drop out of, and Brighton was the explosion of colour and noise that I had been aching for. 

The first thing that struck me upon moving here was the genuine warmth and friendliness that welcomed me. Having moved from my hometown that seemed virtually cut off from the rest of the world, Brighton plunged me into an immediate change of tone. All of a sudden  my outfits that would once have been considered completely outrageous blended nicely into the array of stiletto heels, strappy tops, feather boas and striking makeup. I was no longer the most eccentric person in the room – something both intimidating and inspiring.

“Brighton is alive with music, laughter and art, with an adventure waiting just outside your doorstep.”

I also noted how there was a culture of kindness – gone were the days of ‘every man for himself’, people in Brighton seemed to be overflowing with love – everyone was everyone’s cheerleader. On my first day in the city by myself, a busker showed me his drum kit, we talked about tuning up the snare, and he encouraged me to continue to play the instrument.

I was lucky enough to have an old friend living in Brighton, and that evening I ended up with her on the beach, surrounded by people I didn’t know, but all of us laughing and eating up the night as though it was a delicious spoonful of some delicacy. A day or so later, I asked two strangers if they knew where I could find the club Revenge, and I went on to paint the town red with them until the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t hard work to strike up conversations, and as long as you went in with a broad smile and an easy laugh, people would happily carry you along for the ride. In a world so lacking in genuine human connection, Brighton is filled with it. 

For an 18-year-old like me, the nightlife was irresistible. When the sun sets over the crashing waves of Palace Pier, and the fluorescent lights of thumping nightclubs come up, you can forget New York, because Brighton is the city that never sleeps, with roaring lyrics on the dancefloor, and philosophical conversations in the smoking area.

“We danced with strangers as though they were our best friends, we shot white sambucas at the bar that was alive with people.”

The first drink I had was at Bar Revenge, a feisty seafront bar, fitted with dazzling disco balls and fluorescent tube lighting. The place is fizzling with energy from the live DJ, who gets everyone on the dancefloor with queer-coded Katy Perry tunes. It was outside of there that I struck up conversation with two strangers, and within minutes we were arm in arm, making our way to the nightclub that seems to be on the tip of everyone’s tongues.

Revenge is known for its drag queen events, its thumping dancefloor, and the bustling energy that seems to vibrate out of the entire building. I entered into a world of music that sizzled out of the speakers, and strobe lights shooting down on the beautifully dressed attendants. We danced with strangers as though they were our best friends, we shot white sambucas at the bar that was alive with people, and soon we made our way to the dazzling rooftop, where you get a majestical view of Brighton, the horizon lit up by the seafront and the various other pubs and clubs calling our name.

My extroverted self was finally getting the chance to blossom as we talked about everything from political affairs to humiliating sex stories, arms wrapped around each other in a drunken embrace. A night out in Brighton felt like entering Neverland, and we were convinced that in this place we’d stay young forever. 

“Talent and innovation is everywhere in a place as beautifully untamed and bold as Brighton.” 

Brighton is just as much buzzing with energy during the day as it is at night. Whilst I haven’t had the time to really sink my teeth into it, it’s very hard to miss the artistic canvas that Brighton has become. From musicals to literature, self expression thrives in the streets. Beautiful people are creating beautiful art, whether it be for a political statement such as the Brighton Feminist Bookshop, or simply in the splashes of spray painted colour that decorate the brick walls and cobbled streets. Talent and innovation is everywhere in a place as beautifully untamed and bold as Brighton. 

But perhaps the most enticing thing is the incredible activism scene. People are hungry for change, and aren’t afraid to fight for it either. From incredible political murals that paint the walls of Kemptown, to the endless lists of organisations and groups dedicated to bettering the world around us, such as the Brighton Women’s Centre or Brighton Peace and Environment Centre. People aren’t comfortable with being bystanders or maintaining the status quo – we are not afraid to create a stage when the world denies us a platform. The old fashioned politics is being stamped out, and the diversity and culture within Brighton is certainly the boot that is doing it. 

I’ve only been here a week, but if my analogy of Dorothy entering into the City of Emeralds is correct, I won’t be tapping my ruby red heels anytime soon. Brighton is alive with music, laughter and art, with an adventure waiting just outside your doorstep. Goodbye Kansas, and a warm hello to the future – let’s see what you’ve got in store. 

Brighton Council Leader sounds warning about future service delivery

“Cuts are putting people in need of care at risk. The Government needs to act”, says Cllr Warren Morgan, Leader of Brighton & Hove City Council.

Cllr Warren Morgan
Cllr Warren Morgan, Leader of Brighton & Hove City Council

It is wrong for politicians to be alarmist, to cause concern in order to score political points. It’s referred to as “shroud-waving”. I’ve criticised others for doing so, and I’ve thought long and hard about publishing this post. I do so not to win votes or do down the other side, but out of genuine fear both for the people who need social care and those charged with providing it.

I posted recently about the competing campaigns against various cuts we are being forced to make to services because of the reduction and eventual removal of the Government’s Revenue Support Grant which until now has provided around a third of our funding. As that funding reduces and ultimately disappears, the cost of providing social care services is rising rapidly.

Those cost increases are down to a huge range of factors. An ageing population, increasing poverty, welfare reform, growing pressures on the NHS, growing numbers of children being identified as a risk, and more. It is right that care workers are paid the Living Wage, but the requirement on providers to pay it brings a cost.

In around four years, without a combination of additional resources and new ways of working, the costs of social care will consume the entire council budget, save for some basic environmental services like refuse collection. In the coming year almost £20 million of risk has been identified across our social care services in Brighton and Hove.

High profile failures like Victoria Climbie, Baby P or Rotherham cannot be allowed to happen again if we can possibly prevent it.

Whether it is services for frail older people, vulnerable adults with learning disabilities, or children at risk of abuse, it is your local council that is responsible for looking after them. If those council care services fail, it is the service directors who are held legally responsible. Councillors are legally and morally responsible as corporate parents for children in care.

Without a proper funding regime involving the collaboration of all agencies, any further cuts to social care budgets by the Government could, in the near future, lead to formal notification by those directors that they cannot guarantee a safe level of care.

The 2% council tax increase, ring-fenced for social care, will bring in an extra £2.2 million each year. It sounds a lot but it isn’t sufficient to meet the increased costs and demand.

Urgent action on the part of Government is needed, before people are put at risk.

Cllr Warren Morgan is the Labour Leader of Brighton and Hove City Council and this piece appears on his personal blog.

To view the blog, click here:

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