Queer, Vibrant and *FULL OF ENERGY

There used to be a meme that us queers walked around with the entire discography of Ani DiFranco in our back pocket, that was definitely my vibe as a young person. Looking back, her writing and activism really shook me, it was the moment I woke up to what the world really looked like.

I love the Adrianne Lenker line “I’m afraid of getting older, that’s what I learned to say. ‘Cause society has given me the words to think that way”.

Or Ani DiFranco’s “Up points the spire of the steeple. But God’s work isn’t done by god, it’s done by people”. That line was pretty important, to us queer kids growing up inside religion.

I bought a huge box set of The L Word when I was about 14. I hid it under my bed and watched every episode on my mum’s laptop after everyone else in the house went to sleep. It defo had its flaws, but it gave me a sense of chosen family, before I knew what that meant.

The autistic love for a routine.

I don’t think there’s anything more political than our personal experiences, because the world we exist within; the opportunities we get, the lives we live are dictated by bigger political forces.

I think the stories we tell about our experiences are some of the most powerful tools for enacting change, I’ve definitely seen that first hand in my own life.

I think it’s easy to feel very scared, especially as a queer and disabled person in the UK at the minute. But I still feel optimistic that things will improve, because I don’t know how to survive without that hope.  That isn’t to say we shouldn’t feel angry, frightened or hopeless, I have my fair share of those feelings as well…

Perhaps it feels a bit like a limb – I just can’t remember a time when it wasn’t there.

‘The IT Teacher’, every time.

I think the bridge of ‘Good Luck Babe’, has some of the best lyrics I’ve ever heard.

I can spot other neurodivergent people from a mile off, like an autistic bloodhound. I can also taste the difference between every different type of diet cola.

I tour with my lovely wife Aoife, and I couldn’t do it without her. She helps me manage all the chaos so I can focus on the music. She keeps me rested, fed & focusing on the important stuff. She helps me with the physical barriers that exist for disabled folk in this industry.

I think if they could magic up a few guinea pigs or the capybara I’ve been told is at your Zoo, I’d be set.

I worked under a fantastic lesbian in her 80’s. She once told me that through the decades of her life she’d seen many different types of infighting within our community. She said she’d gradually realised that the more our community turns on each other, the less energy we have to fight against the much bigger structures that oppress us. I think about that a lot, in all avenues of my life.