LGBTIQ+ people in Brazil left to support themselves during COVID-19: vulnerabilities, coping strategies, and recommendations for more inclusive crisis policies

This post was originally written for Policy@Manchester and posted on July 26, 2021, at http://blog.policy.manchester.ac.uk/posts/2021/07/lgbtiq-people-in-brazil-left-to-support-themselves-during-covid-19-vulnerabilities-coping-strategies-and-recommendations-for-more-inclusive-crisis-policies/

A version of this blog is available to read in Portuguese here.

COVID-19 has brought huge change to society. However, the impacts have been different and disproportionate for different groups including LGBTIQ+ populations. As University of Manchester research has reported, there have been gaps in government and transnational responses in recognising and addressing those inequalities. In a previous blog post, Billy Tusker Haworth discussed COVID-19 experiences and policy recommendations relating to LGBTIQ+ people in the UK, now Billy and Luan Cassal discuss the impact on LGBTIQ+ communities in Brazil.

  • LGBTIQ+ people across the world have faced diverse and unique challenges, exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic
  • LGBTIQ+ social movements and support organisations can guide, pressure and monitor the actions of government, and produce information on harm reduction practices. Developing effective partnerships between sectors is important, with co-production of policies as a goal
  • Policy approaches must recognise diversity and inequalities within LGBTIQ+ communities, and consider the importance of intersecting factors in shaping lived experiences of marginality in Brazil, such as race and class, alongside sexuality and gender identity

Brazilian experiences

Brazil is marked by a history of colonialism, enslavement, and authoritative regimes. Reactionary discoursesviolence and murders against LGBTIQ+ people are frequent. Trans and non-binary people are especially targeted, and other identity categories such as race, age, and religion can enhance those vulnerabilities. This hostile context has produced strong social and political movements in gender and sexuality, achieving a series of judicial decisions and public policies for LGBTIQ+ people’protection and inclusion. Even if limited, these actions demonstrate strength and resilience.

Currently, Brazil has the second highest COVID-19 death toll and third highest number of cases globally. Structural inequalities without adequate actions became evident during the pandemic. Brazilian LGBTIQ+ associations reported that LGBTIQ+ people suffer the effects of the pandemic combined with recent political policies (reducing public funding for social protection and development) and an authoritative federal government (which rejects specific actions for LGBTIQ+ protection). The Brazil COVID-19 response has been criticised, with the President opposing social distancing measures, lockdowns, and vaccination, and advocating for ineffective medications.

Our study sought insights into challenges faced and coping capacities adopted by LGBTIQ+ people in Brazil during COVID-19. We interviewed 12 LGBTIQ+ people living in the states of São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro during the ‘first wave’ of the pandemic in 2020.

Key challenges experienced

Mental health was the main concern of the LGBTIQ+ people interviewed. Participants described experiences of anxiety, depression, exhaustion, uncertainty about the future, and difficulty maintaining healthy routines. Historically oppressed, LGBTIQ+ people in Brazil had created safe spaces for resisting persecution, such as political groups, cultural spaces, public centres and social organisations. When local governments first implemented lockdowns, no alternatives for these spaces and activities were provided. This, coupled with reduced access to community and public support services, increased isolation and negatively impacted mental health and quality of life.

People struggled to find information on how to manage their wellbeing and stay safe in the pandemic generally, let alone any specific guidance for LGBTIQ+ lives. Each level of government (City, State, and Federal) communicated different, contradictory COVID-19 guidelines. This generated misinformation and heightened stress.

How have people coped?

Without clear instructions, individuals determined their own protective measures and responses, including staying and working at home where possible, physical distancing, limiting social circles, prioritizing particular activities or self-quarantining before meeting vulnerable people, and following information from outside sources, such as WHO information on masks.

Even when physically distant, LGBTIQ+ people created opportunities for socialising and reducing loneliness. Social media, video calls and online activities became more frequent for offering and receiving support, with friends, community groups and professional services.

However, inequalities within LGBTIQ+ populations meant that these privileges were not available to everyone. Study participants expressed solidarity and concern for more-disadvantaged members of LGBTIQ+ communities, such as trans and non-binary people or those without secure jobs and income.

Other identity characteristics intersected with gender and sexuality to shape pandemic experiences. For black people, their race – as an additional axis of oppression in Brazil – was perhaps even more important in their lives than gender or sexuality. One interviewee described that while sexuality could be concealed at work, job interviews, or in social settings, their race cannot, limiting employment opportunities and social circles compared to white people. In this context, community support and mutual aid were essential for helping many people cope during COVID-19. For example, groups of black lesbian and bisexual women who came together to assist with loneliness, wellbeing and financial stress by fundraising and providing social, health and income support for poorer black LGBTIQ+ people.

How do we improve?

Our study highlights both vulnerabilities, exacerbated by gaps in government pandemic responses, and resilience capacities across LGBTIQ+ populations that should inform current and future crisis policies. In the short term we recommend prioritising access to health, work and social assistance for the most vulnerable groups, including specific assistance to improve access for LGBTIQ+ people to mental wellbeing, healthcare and other social services, and inclusion of LGBTIQ+ needs in broader and intersectoral programmes, such as government emergency aid. LGBTIQ+ social movements and support organisations can guide, pressure and monitor the actions of government, and produce information on harm reduction practices. Developing effective partnerships between sectors is important, with co-production of policies as a goal.

There are existing government LGBTIQ+ reference centres in Brazil which appeared underutilised by our study participants. These should be important sites of support and advice to LGBTIQ+ people in need, and could be better-utilised for disseminating targeted guidance for COVID-19 and other crises. These centres must be expanded in terms of locations and capacities, and must be more widely advertised.

Crisis situations highlight the need for social care and public protection. For marginalised groups like LGBTIQ+ people, this need remains in ‘normal’ times. Improved access to health services without discrimination, housing security, support for victims of violence, and equal access to education and employment opportunities and stable jobs are all needs exacerbated during the pandemic, but that require longer term attention and solutions. The specific needs of LGBTIQ+ people must be included in not only future crisis responses, but in all public policy planning. Policy approaches must recognise diversity and inequalities within LGBTIQ+ communities, and consider the importance of intersecting factors in shaping lived experiences of marginality in Brazil, such as race and class, alongside sexuality and gender identity.

Implementing these recommendations in the historical and contemporary political, social and ideological context of Brazil will not be easy. But we hope that by raising them we may at least contribute to necessary dialogue for the better-inclusion of LGBTIQ+ people in crisis policies and beyond. Ultimately, to move towards greater inclusion for marginalised groups it is these very political, social and ideological structures that we must interrogate, as these constitute the root causes of vulnerabilities and uneven crisis impacts.

Policy@Manchester aims to impact lives globally, nationally and locally through influencing and challenging policymakers with robust research-informed evidence and ideas. Visit our website to find out more, and sign up to our newsletter to keep up to date with our latest news.

About Luan Cassal

Luan is a PhD candidate in Education and research assistant at University of Manchester. He has expertise in educational psychology, violence, and public policies for LGBTIQ+ community, studying experiences in Brazil, Portugal, and the UK.

About Billy Haworth

Billy is a geographer in the Humanitarian and Conflict Response Institute, University of Manchester. They have expertise in critical human geography, geographic information science, and international disaster studies. Billy’s current research focuses on LGBTIQ+ marginalisation and coping capacities during crises

Policy@Manchester: LGBTIQ+ experiences of COVID-19 in the UK and the need for more inclusive crisis policies

This post was originally written for Policy@Manchester and posted on March 10, 2021, at http://blog.policy.manchester.ac.uk/posts/2021/03/lgbtiq-experiences-of-covid-19-in-the-uk-and-the-need-for-more-inclusive-crisis-policies/

Reading not for you? Listen to this article instead.

The COVID-19 pandemic has had wide-ranging effects for people across the UK. However, some groups have felt the effects of the pandemic and its associated lockdowns more than others. In this blog, Dr Billy Haworth, from the Humanitarian and Conflict Response Institute, shares their recent research into the experiences of LGBTIQ+ populations during COVID-19. They argue that LGBTIQ+ populations have faced unique challenges, and will require additional support to help them overcome the effects of the crisis. There is great diversity and even inequality within LGBTIQ+ populations, and in the longer-term, policymakers need to ensure that their policies are fit for all prior to implementation.

  • LGBTIQ+ populations have reported a vast range of challenges to their lives during the COVID-19 pandemic.
  • The sudden removal of support networks and identity-affirming spaces has disproportionately affected these individuals.
  • LGBTIQ+ community groups and volunteer organisations have filled gaps, and policymakers need to support and expand the important work of these groups.
  • In the long-term, policymakers need to move away from ‘one-size-fits-all’ approaches when they design policies for managing crises.

The coronavirus pandemic and associated response measures have had disproportionate impacts on different segments of society. This includes people with diverse sexual orientation, gender identity/expression, and sexual characteristics (SOGIESC), or who are more commonly known as lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, intersex, and queer (LGBTIQ+) populations. Mental health challenges, social isolation, substance misuse, loss of livelihood and financial difficulties, scapegoating, discrimination and stigma, elevated risk of violence, reduced access to health and support services, and more have been reported as experienced among LGBTIQ+ populations.

LGBTIQ+ experiences

We know that socio-economically marginalised groups, including LGBTIQ+ people, are often the hardest hit during crises, as marginality leads to increased vulnerability. Crisis responses generally do not adequately account for LGBTIQ+ needs, if at all. Moreover, response strategies themselves can heighten and reproduce vulnerabilities by assuming binary cisgender (people whose gender identity matches their sex assigned at birth) and heterosexual identities as the norm, thereby failing to address the needs of minority populations. A United Nations report described how COVID-19 responses reproduced and intensified pre-existing exclusion and discrimination patterns for LGBTIQ+ people. For example, same-sex couples in the Philippines were denied COVID-19 support because of local government views on what counts as a “family” for food aid distributions.

Complementing other reports, I conducted in-depth interviews with a diverse range of LGBTIQ+ people in the UK between May and October 2020 to capture and understand their experiences of COVID-19. This timeframe represents various stages of the UK’s pandemic response, including lockdowns and periods of easing and tightening of restrictions.

My research exposed key challenges for LGBTIQ+ people during the pandemic. Significant mental health impacts were felt, especially during lockdown. This included increased anxieties about the virus and issues related to gender or sexual identity. Isolation from supportive people and identity-affirming spaces elevated stress. Some participants described being at home with unsupportive families, or having limited biological family relationships, reducing the support networks that so many people relied on in the pandemic.

Supportive spaces

Some industries, like the hospitality and entertainment sectors, have experienced greater impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic and associated social and economic restrictions. LGBTIQ+ people working in these areas expressed concerns over income in the short term and anxieties about longer-term employment prospects. More widely, disruptions to LGBTIQ+ spaces have been acutely felt, including nightlife, but also community spaces, support groups and activities like Pride festivals. These spaces usually provide many LGBTIQ+ people with essential opportunities to freely and safely express themselves and their identities.

The National LGBT Survey found that LGBTIQ+ people were more likely to suffer mental health challenges without adequate support, and that LGBTIQ+-friendly spaces, including nightlife and Pride events, are highly important but in decline. Based on this information, policymakers could have predicted the intensification of these issues during COVID-19, yet gaps persisted in policies and responses.

Existing and new community groups filled critical gaps in providing mental health support and reducing isolation through mutual aid and the creation of safe and identity-affirming (online) spaces. In fact, moving activities online presented opportunities to connect with new and diverse audiences, in some ways improving accessibility. Community organisations and peer-support groups were vital for many LGBTIQ+ people during COVID-19.

Diversity within LGBTIQ+ populations

My research makes clear that there is no single LGBTIQ+ experience. Diversity of COVID-19 experiences reflects diversity within LGBTIQ+ populations, including diversity between different subcategories, but also intersections with other factors, like age, class, disability or race.

My research highlighted unique challenges for transgender people. While cisgender people experienced disruptions to healthcare access, this issue was particularly significant for transgender patients. Healthcare relating to gender affirmation and gender identities was delayed if not halted completely, often without communication. This caused confusion and anxiety, exacerbated mental health concerns, and added to already long waiting periods for gender identity clinics. These delays, coupled with people being at home with their bodies more and reduced access to support, also contributed to gender dysphoria.

If we overlook diversity and only account for the most visible experiences, such as those of cisgender gay men, we risk furthering inequalities within minority groups.

How can policies be improved?

In the short term, policies should prioritise access to disrupted services that were directly related to the aspects of LGBTIQ+ vulnerability most exacerbated during COVID-19 lockdowns. This should include facilitating increased and targeted mental health support through training and resources, and maintaining access to healthcare during crises, especially transgender care.

Resources should be allocated to support and expand upon the important work already being done by LGBTIQ+ community, volunteer and mutual aid organisations. This could include: appointing LGBTIQ+ liaison personnel within COVID-19 recovery groups to build strategic partnerships and facilitate knowledge sharing, linking government and non-government activities, and targeting support measures where they are most needed and will be most effective.

For longer-term change, policies cannot continue being based on assumptions that populations are cisgender and heterosexual. They must not only include and account for LGBTIQ+ needs and capacities, but must recognise diversity within the LGBTIQ+ population. “One-size-fits-all” approaches are ineffective for the broad UK population, and likewise are not appropriate for communities as diverse as LGBTIQ+. To better incorporate LGBTIQ+ diversity, SOGIESC education should be included as part of workplace training programmes for government and crisis management organisations. Co-production of policies should also be a goal; involving communities and harnessing community wisdom is an important component of crisis management. Productive dialogue with LGBTIQ+ people themselves and the groups and organisations that represent them is essential for developing inclusive and efficient strategies.

Lastly, policies must shift focus away from crisis response towards risk reduction. If we were more prepared and marginalised sectors of society were better supported, we would see less severe impacts – as disaster studies have informed. We must work now to address the political, economic and social structures that place particular groups at increased vulnerability to crises, including LGBTIQ+ people, to mitigate the negative impacts of future hazards, pandemic or otherwise.

Take a look at our other blogs exploring issues relating to the coronavirus outbreak.

Policy@Manchester aims to impact lives globally, nationally and locally through influencing and challenging policymakers with robust research-informed evidence and ideas. Visit our website to find out more, and sign up to our newsletter to keep up to date with our latest news.

Researching experiences of gender and sexual minorities during the COVID-19 pandemic

Dr Billy Tusker Haworth
Pronouns: he/him or they/them
Lecturer in International Disaster Management

Equality, Diversity & Inclusion representative
Humanitarian and Conflict Response Institute,
University of Manchester
Email: billy.haworth@manchester.ac.uk
Website: www.billyhaworth.com
Twitter: @BillyTusker
Main research areas: geography, critical and
participatory GIS, disaster vulnerability, queer
marginality, graffiti and spaces of conflict/peace

Reading not for you? Listen to this article instead.

Warning: the following may contain topics which some LGBTIQ+ readers may find distressing.

As the COVID-19 pandemic swept across the globe and we in the UK were sent into lockdown in March, scrambling to work from home and continue living our lives in the face of much uncertainty, I saw a unique opportunity.

I had already begun exploring the experiences of gender and sexual minorities during disasters theoretically with colleagues in Australia, and had been considering future potential case studies. Suddenly I was presented with the chance to conduct primary research during a live crisis that would undoubtedly impact minority groups in profound, and likely insufficiently documented ways. Moreover, I was experiencing the crisis at the same time, also as a member of minority groups, being a migrant to the UK and identifying as queer (though I completely acknowledge the class and race (white) privileges I receive). I felt I was in a position to make a contribution to understanding the experiences of marginalised gender and sexual minorities and to hopefully suggest improvements for more inclusive response strategies for future public health or other crises.

Since gaining University ethics approval in April, I have been conducting detailed interviews with lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, intersex and queer+ (LGBTIQ+) people over Zoom in the UK and Brazil, with help from my Brazilian research assistant Tiago de Paula Muniz for interviews in Portuguese. There are of course various limitations to this method, not least inequalities associated with internet access, with often marginalised people having the least access to such information and communication technologies, particularly in Brazil, thus influencing participation patterns. However, overall we have gained important insights from a wide variety of people within the LGBTIQ+ community. Though interviews are still ongoing and detailed data analysis is yet to be completed, in this post I wish to share some of the preliminary insights we have gained so far.

Research background

LGBTIQ+ identities are often not considered in disaster and humanitarian strategies, yet they experience unique vulnerabilities linked to inequality and marginalisation.

Prior to COVID-19, LGBTIQ+ people already faced increased risk of anxiety and suicide and disproportionate rates of insecure employment and housing. Research and policies tend to treat gender and sexual minorities as homogeneous, overlooking diversity. This can contribute to further inequalities, with the voices of more visible groups, such as gay men, viewed as representing all LGBTIQ+ experiences. Further, little research or policy attention has been given to coping capacities and resilience of LGBTIQ+ individuals and communities. Revelation of such experiences is particularly important when key aspects of community resilience, such as social connectedness, are being disrupted and eroded through social distancing and lockdowns.

The UK and Brazil represent different social, cultural, economic and political contexts on which the same crisis (coronavirus) is impacting, which provides a unique opportunity to uncover common learnings and important differences in experiences and responses. For example, in the UK, gender identity and sexuality are protected characteristics under the Equality Act and require special consideration, whereas despite advances, LGBTIQ+ people in Brazil still experience discrimination and exclusion without adequate protections; Brazil has some of the highest rates globally of homophobia and transphobia related deaths.

The pandemic has had devastating impacts on LGBTIQ+ populations in both contexts. For instance, in the UK LGBTIQ+ people have reported experiencing increased mental health challenges, isolation, substance misuse, financial difficulties, and reduced access to health and support services. In Brazil, job losses and social and economic exclusion have been severe for gender and sexual minorities, and without effective action from the Bolsonaro government LGBTIQ+ people have had to turn to informal peer support to survive, including communal squat housing.

Initial insights from interviews

Isolation

Through our interviews to date we have learnt of people stuck living for months with family who do not accept their gender or sexual identity, through intersection with faith and other reasons. Isolation from supportive people and identity-affirming spaces has caused significant heightened stress and mental health concerns for some LGBTIQ+ people.

Access to medical care

Transgender people have told me how their medical care, both essential and elective, relating to gender reassignment and their identities has been delayed if not halted completely, often without adequate notice, adding to already-long waiting periods and highlighting a lack of appropriate care for such patients during the pandemic. I’ve learnt of exacerbated gender dysphoria resulting from people being at home with their bodies, seeing their bodies more, having less external incentive to dress or prepare their bodies in particular ways (e.g. chest binding), and with reduced access to support.

Technology

Many of us have benefited from technology during this time, using platforms like Zoom to reduce social isolation by connecting with family, friends, colleagues and other online support. But these benefits are not shared across populations equally, with some of our participants being without access to computers or reliable internet. Further, some described anxiety associated with these platforms and the required mental and physical effort to prepare and present themselves in order to be read as their correct gender over a video call, for example. This demonstrates an important link with identity that is less likely to be experienced by non-trans or non-queer people.

Lack of inclusion and support

A common theme emergent in both UK and Brazil interviews is dissatisfaction with government responses to the pandemic. In the UK people described how they didn’t see themselves, their diverse family makeups, or their lifestyles reflected in government guidance and risk communication, with priorities seemingly cis-heteronormative (e.g. a focus on heterosexual couples with school-aged kids). In Brazil people have described feeling forgotten, like they are being left to die or else find their own means of protecting themselves, with clear guidance and support from authorities lacking.

Some people have told me they don’t know how long they can go on like this, as they face issues like insecure housing, reduced work and income, and isolation. This applies to both the UK and Brazil, as described both by affected individuals and people who have been working in LGBTIQ+ support organisations.

We have also heard stories of resilience, kindness, and mutual aid, with people drawing on their existing coping capacities and collective resources to help others.

Resilience and coping capacities

Some people described how they were able to monitor and manage their personal wellbeing during the pandemic by using indicators and strategies developed through past experiences of distress or marginalisation, such as adopting regular daily routines, maintaining healthy diet and monitoring alcohol consumption, exercising, or talking about their challenges and feelings to friends or therapists.

Networks and community

Existing and new networks and community groups have proven vital for LGBTIQ+ people, providing mutual aid and safe and identity-affirming (online) spaces to share experiences and connect with others. Organisations like Hidayah, which offers support and community for LGBTIQ+ people of Islam faith, have had to move all their activities online. But this has also allowed them to reach audiences much further afield, such as in the Middle East and the US, forging new connections and providing social aid and assistance in new and diverse ways.

Similarly, the queer community group in Manchester, Queer Family Tea, usually holds a weekly in-person alcohol-free meet up with food, activities and entertainment, often for young LGBTIQ+ people seeking an alternative to the “gay scene” of Canal Street to connect with likeminded people. During COVID they have shifted online with weekly meet-ups, online cabarets, life drawing classes and other workshops. As with Hidayah, they have seen many new people joining, and some of those involved have said that running and organising such activities has given them a much-needed sense of purpose and life-motivation in what would otherwise be difficult and lonely times. Responses to future crises should not only better-recognise the unique challenges faced by gender and sexual minorities, but look to support and grow existing resilience, coping and mutual aid capacities.

Societal pressure

For some the pandemic has also provided temporary relief from some of the pressures of “normal life”, such as societal pressures to conform to binary gender roles or the public scrutiny of trans bodies. One participant who had come out publicly as transgender just before the pandemic suggested they wouldn’t mind the lockdown to last a bit longer as it was allowing time for them to transition and become more comfortable with their own body and its changes away from the outside world – the pandemic as an escape. This isn’t to suggest they were insensitive to the challenges many have faced during lockdowns. Rather, it highlights the pressure and challenges that queer people already confront in daily life and reminds us that crises such as a pandemic do not necessarily create marginalisation and vulnerabilities so much as they expose and exacerbate those already present across our societies.

Despite the risks of the pandemic, communities came together for the Trans+ Pride March in London, protesting against inequalities experienced by transgender people in “normal” life.
Photo credit: Steve Eason, 12 September 2020.

Diversity and intersectionality

Experiences of COVID-19 across the LGBTIQ+ community remind us that the queer population is incredibly diverse. Our interviews have highlighted important differences between LGBTIQ+ sub-groups. For example, in general cisgender gay white males experienced less financial, employment and housing instability compared to others (of course this isn’t to say they haven’t also faced challenges). Recognition of such uneven privilege was especially prominent in the Brazilian interviews.

There is also great diversity within those subgroups, and of course it’s not the case that every lesbian or every intersex person, for instance, has the same experience as all others. To many readers these ideas won’t be new, but in practice LGBTIQ+ people are still largely described and treated as one group (including to some extent by me in this post).

I find the concept of intersectionality useful in adding nuance to our understandings of minority experiences and vulnerabilities. Stemming from black feminist activism scholarship, intersectionality can help us see how different characteristics (and axes of oppression) intersect to shape a person’s lived experiences and marginalisation, such as by examining the relationships between gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, class, education, disability, religion, and more. While I agree there are good justifications for regarding LGBTIQ+ people as one community in many respects, overlooking the diversity of experiences can result in ineffective policies. I don’t pretend that developing strategies aimed at such diverse populations is easy, but to more effectively reduce vulnerabilities for minority groups we must give these issues greater consideration.

Reflections on positionality and the research process

Being queer and experiencing a pandemic at the same time as researching queer experiences of COVID-19 has been insightful but also challenging. I refer specifically to challenges of dealing with heavy topics and the need for self-care. Sometimes during interviews I feel like I am listening to my own friends. Many of the experiences we are hearing about, such as isolation or increased stress, are close to our own lives. Tiago and I are also living in the UK away from our families during the pandemic, who are in Brazil and Australia respectively. Our ‘family’ here is very much other queer people, a kind of chosen family away from home. The overlap of research subject with personal life has been confronting at times.

We’ve learnt some strategies to help us process what are sometimes difficult and saddening interviews. It’s important to ensure we have time to decompress (so don’t do multiple interviews back-to-back or in the evening before bed!), and we are fortunate we can talk to each other about how the interviews made us feel.

But I also recognise my relative privilege compared to many of our participants, in that I have relatively secure income, housing, access to friends and resources etc…which coupled with the stories people tell me motivates me even more to continue the research, despite difficult topics at times. Tiago says the same for the interviews in Brazil. He describes the motivation of giving voice to people who often don’t have one. I have also benefited from that queer community support and collective resilience described above in helping me cope with the pandemic. It also helps me ground and understand what is happening to and around me at this time, as a citizen, a queer person, and as a researcher. As scholars, I think we ought to think about these issues more critically, particularly regarding mental health for those researchers working in the disaster and humanitarian sector.

What next?

I have felt incredibly privileged to hear people’s stories. People are giving me their time, energy and honest reflections during what is a difficult period for everybody, and I now have a responsibility to do something meaningful with the data.

Awareness of the dynamic and diverse challenges LGBTIQ+ people face is critical to foster change for improved outcomes, and so it is essential to produce not only academic research outputs, but materials aimed at policymakers, NGOs and activist groups already working with marginalised communities in a language and format they can use.

Currently I am in the midst of transcribing and analysing interviews and will then begin preparing journal articles and policy briefs in English and Portuguese, as well as communications for wider public audiences. I would eventually like to see the research contributing to improved policies and responses, which could include more targeted funding and relief, tailored mental health support, and approaches that recognise the intersecting and compounding effects of multiple characteristics, such as gender and sexuality with race, disability, income, and more – providing alternatives to inefficient ‘one size fits all’ approaches.

Need support?

If you are LGBTIQ+ and experiencing distress during COVID-19, you could consider contacting one of the following organisations for support:

Online tools can help people in disasters, but do they represent everyone? (article in The Conversation)

This article originally appeared in The Conversation.
Billy Tusker HaworthUniversity of ManchesterChristine EriksenUniversity of WollongongScott McKinnonUniversity of Wollongong

With natural hazard and climate-related disasters on the rise, online tools such as crowdsourced mapping and social media can help people understand and respond to a crisis. They enable people to share their location and contribute information.

But are these tools useful for everyone, or are some people marginalised? It is vital these tools include information provided from all sections of a community at risk.

Current evidence suggests that is not always the case.

Online tools let people help in disasters

Social media played an important role in coordinating response to the 2019 Queensland floods and the 2013 Tasmania bushfires. Community members used Facebook to coordinate sharing of resources such as food and water.

Crowdsourced mapping helped in response to the humanitarian crisis after the 2010 Haiti earthquake. Some of the most useful information came from public contributions.

Twitter provided similar critical insights during Hurricane Irma in South Florida in 2017.

Research shows these public contributions can help in disaster risk reduction, but they also have limitations.

In the rush to develop new disaster mitigation tools, it is important to consider whether they will help or harm the people most vulnerable in a disaster.

Who is vulnerable?

Extreme natural events, such as earthquakes and bushfires, are not considered disasters until vulnerable people are exposed to the hazard.

To determine people’s level of vulnerability we need to know:

  1. the level of individual and community exposure to a physical threat
  2. their access to resources that affect their capacity to cope when threats materialise.

Some groups in society will be more vulnerable to disaster than others. This includes people with immobility issues, caring roles, or limited access to resources such as money, information or support networks.

When disaster strikes, the pressure on some groups is often magnified.

The devastating scenes in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina in 2005 and in Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria in 2017 revealed the vulnerability of children in such disasters.

Unfortunately, emergency management can exacerbate the vulnerability of marginalised groups. For example, a US study last year showed that in the years after disasters, wealth increased for white people and declined for people of colour. The authors suggest this is linked to inequitable distribution of emergency and redevelopment aid.

Policies and practice have until recently mainly been written by, and for, the most predominant groups in our society, especially heterosexual white men.

Research shows how this can create gender inequities or exclude the needs of LGBTIQ communitiesformer refugees and migrants or domestic violence victims.

We need to ask: do new forms of disaster response help everyone in a community, or do they reproduce existing power imbalances?

Unequal access to digital technologies

Research has assessed the “techno-optimism” – a belief that technologies will solve our problems – associated with people using online tools to share information for disaster management.

These technologies inherently discriminate if access to them discriminates.

In Australia, the digital divide remains largely unchanged in recent years. In 2016-17 nearly 1.3 million households had no internet connection.

Lower digital inclusion is seen in already vulnerable groups, including the unemployed, migrants and the elderly.

Global internet penetration rates show uneven access between economically poorer parts of the world, such as Africa and Asia, and wealthier Western regions.

Representations of communities are skewed on the internet. Particular groups participate with varying degrees on social media and in crowdsourcing activities. For example, some ethnic minorities have poorer internet access than other groups even in the same country.

For crowdsourced mapping on platforms such as OpenStreetMap, studies find participation biases relating to gender. Men map far morethan women at local and global scales.

Research shows participation biases in community mapping activities towards older, more affluent men.

Protect the vulnerable

Persecuted minorities, including LGBTIQ communities and religious minorities, are often more vulnerable in disasters. Digital technologies, which expose people’s identities and fail to protect privacy, might increase that vulnerability.

Unequal participation means those who can participate may become further empowered, with more access to information and resources. As a result, gaps between privileged and marginalised people grow wider.

For example, local Kreyòl-speaking Haitians from poorer neighbourhoods contributed information via SMS for use on crowdsourced maps during the 2010 Haiti earthquake response.

But the information was translated and mapped in English for Western humanitarians. As they didn’t speak English, vulnerable Haitians were further marginalised by being unable to directly use and benefit from maps resulting from their own contributions.

Participation patterns in mapping do not reflect the true makeup of our diverse societies. But they do reflect where power lies – usually with dominant groups.

Any power imbalances that come from unequal online participation are pertinent to disaster risk reduction. They can amplify community tensions, social divides and marginalisation, and exacerbate vulnerability and risk.

With greater access to the benefits of online tools, and improved representation of diverse and marginalised people, we can better understand societies and reduce disaster impacts.

We must remain acutely aware of digital divides and participation biases. We must continually consider how these technologies can better include, value and elevate marginalised groups.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________________________
Billy Tusker Haworth previously received funding from the Bushfire and Natural Hazards Cooperative Research Centre.
Christine Eriksen receives funding from the Australian Research Council (DE150100242, DP170100096).
Scott McKinnon has previously worked on projects funded by the Australian Research Council.
University of Wollongong provides funding as a member of The Conversation AU.
University of Manchester provides funding as a member of The Conversation UK.

Challenges for disaster management research, policy and practice: a call for new perspectives

Dr Billy Tusker Haworth, Lecturer and Programme Director MSc International Disaster Management, Humanitarian and Conflict Response Institute, University of Manchester.
E: billy.haworth@manchester.ac.uk, Twitter: @BillyTusker
This post originally appeared on the HCRI blog.

Disaster management, in theory and in practice, is complex to say the least. While there are many things that are done well and are well-understood, many challenges remain for researchers, policy makers, and emergency practitioners. Even as a Lecturer in Disaster Management and Programme Director for a Masters programme specifically focused on International Disaster Management, I do not purport to be an expert on most aspects of the field. Drawing from my own research and wider reading, teaching, observations made at academic and industry conferences, and experiences with emergency organisations, my aim for this post is to reflect on four aspects of disaster management that I think are problematic, challenging for the field, or in need of improvement for more effective disaster management. These words are merely one academic’s musings on where further research and/or policy attention may be warranted, and I welcome any comments or discussions from others.

  1. Can we bounce past resilience yet?
    The concept of resilience has come into vogue in disaster research and practice over the past decade and now dominates policy agendas throughout the world (e.g. Sendai framework). Resilience has great merit in application to disaster management in theory.  It is not difficult to see how either of the most popular conceptualisations of resilience can be useful in aiding understanding of disasters; resilience as the ability of a system (or community, or individual) to either absorb stress and resist significant disruption (social-ecological perspective), or to ‘bounce back’ to normal functioning following a shock (engineering perspective). However, the application of these concepts to disaster management, both in policy interpretations and in practical measures to ‘build’ resilience, remains a challenge.There are numerous extant critiques of resilience in the disaster literature, many of which I agree with. These include, among others, a lack of consensus over what resilience actually is, that resilience definitions routinely combine elements of both ecological and engineering resilience (such as the definition adopted by UNISDR) but these are actually somewhat contradictory ideas, that measuring resilience is too difficult, and the question of whether it is appropriate for people to ‘bounce back’ to their pre-disaster conditions, which for many may be a highly vulnerable and undesirable state. The counter to this last critique has been proposals of revised interpretations of resilience as ‘building back better’ or ‘bouncing forward’.For me the central problem with resilience lies in a series of disconnects. I perceive a disconnect between what resilience refers to in academic conceptualisations and how these are interpreted and applied in disaster policies, and I see a further disconnect between resilience in policy and what it looks like, or how it is implemented and/or achieved in practice. I have heard numerous emergency practitioners in Australia and the UK say in public forums that they do not know what resilience is, or that the field is struggling to comprehend resilience approaches, yet these are the people responsible for implementing (and often devising) policies centred around resilience. I myself often find it difficult to see concrete connections between the theoretical understandings of resilience in academic literature and ‘resilience building activities’ in practice, which often appear to be increasingly about shifting the responsibility of emergency agencies over to the public. It is often unclear in resilience policies how one should go about actually implementing ‘resilience building’ at all. This, I argue, causes confusion, and without clear means for achieving the goals of resilience policies, they remain ineffective and draw attention away from developing more meaningful approaches.

    Whether resilience is just a buzzword, or whether or not policy interpretations and implementations align with academic theory may or may not be important, if whatever the strategies are in practice achieve their aims of decreasing disaster impacts for communities. But in terms of the amount of attention given to the concept in research and in practice versus the measurable benefits for reducing disaster impacts, perhaps it is time we moved the debate on and bounced right on past resilience (in theory, at least).

  1. Can we more meaningfully include the public in disaster risk reduction?
    Coupled with the growing resilience agenda has been a push to increase community engagement in disaster risk reduction, with research demonstrating that information dissemination alone is insufficient for meaningful risk reduction and disaster preparedness action. Approaches centred on community engagement are becoming increasingly present in emergency organisations, likely with varying success (the Tasmania Fire Service’s Bushfire Ready Neighbourhoods programme appears to me to be one of the better ones).

mapping Bushfire Ready Neighbourhoods community engagement activities: participatory mapping (image credit: Billy Haworth).

In Australia and elsewhere, the push for increased community engagement presents in concert with broader policy agendas of shared responsibility. As a policy shared responsibility emphasises that the burden of emergency management and risk reduction should be shouldered by all parties involved, including national, state, and local government, as well as other stakeholders, businesses, communities, households and individuals, while recognising that the weight of responsibility and expected tasks looks different for these different groups. Similar to my thoughts on resilience, I argue there are differences between shared responsibility and community engagement in theory and policy and how they appear in practice. Scholars have critiqued shared responsibility as being more akin to the public ‘doing what agencies want them to’ (like creating their own emergency plans in order to better-help themselves), rather than sharing of much at all, and state that in order to share responsibility for disaster resilience, control over risk management decisions, actions and processes also needs to be shared. In disaster management at present, this largely doesn’t occur.

When citizens are engaged in disaster management and have been involved by their own volition, they are often seen as problematic or disruptive by authorities, as has been the case with some instances of spontaneous volunteering or the public’s use of social media during crises. While a policy shift has occurred from response to disaster risk reduction and resilience building (community engagement) over the last decade or so, I believe considerable cultural change in emergency organisations is still required to more meaningfully value and incorporate citizens and their knowledge into disaster risk reduction.

The field of citizen science offers important lessons learnt of relevance to disaster management. Citizen science refers to the practice of engaging members of the public in scientific research. Thanks to citizens observing, collecting, sharing and analysing data, a vast range of high-quality scientific research has been completed, much of which would not have been possible otherwise. If disaster management valued community knowledge like citizen science does, protocols and systems could be established to promote and encourage the most useful citizen practices and allow for improved harnessing of citizen action and community-supplied information.

  1. Can we better-incorporate and appreciate gender and sexual diversity in disaster management (policies, organisations, and research)?
    Here, there are three areas I believe need further attention: 1) considerations of gender and sexual minorities in responding to and managing disasters, 2) diversity of personnel in emergency organisations, and 3) diversity in research and teaching. Sexual and gender minorities are commonly recognised as a vulnerable group in disaster policies. Yet, research into LGBTIQ experiences in disasters highlights significant policy and practice failings (such as the lack of planning and provision for the safety of transgender people when using bathrooms in evacuation or refuge centres). These failings are often due to hetero-normative assumptions around things like what a ‘family’ looks like (e.g. a family with two mums may not be recognised in the same way as a family with male and female parents in policies in some jurisdictions). Heterogeneity within groups such as ‘gender and sexual minorities’, and that disaster risk is also experienced unequally within vulnerable populations, also needs further recognition in disaster policy (and in research!). Lesbians, bisexual women and queers of colour, for instance, were more vulnerable during Hurricane Katrina than white middle-class gay men due to lower incomes and the neighbourhoods where they lived being subject to increased flooding. Lastly here, and quite simply, failure to recognise people as anything other than male or female in disaster policy terminology highlights the shortfall between operational disaster management and the actual needs and makeup of contemporary societies.

blue diamond.jpg The LGBT+ rights group Blue Diamond Society in Nepal established a camp for LGBT+ people following earthquakes in 2015, as neither the UN nor the government delivered non-binary aid, despite Nepal legally recognising transgender people (image credit: Blue Diamond Society).

Emergency organisations have made concerted efforts in recent years to increase diversity in their ranks, particularly related to gender. But these efforts have largely been flawed (or at least limited) from the beginning in that they frequently consider gender diversity as an issue concerned only with increasing the proportions of women in organisations. While this is certainly needed, there is no question (in many societies at least, and especially in the West), that there are people who do not align with or identify as either of these binary terms. So, why is the discussion around gender diversity so often limited to male or female? I have witnessed a number of disaster management conference sessions and panels on “Diversity” that have not only focused almost solely on gender in the absence of other diversity challenges, such as increasing representation of sexual minorities, racial and ethnic groups, indigenous peoples, religious affiliations, or people living with disabilities, but have based diversity discussions on quotas for number of women in organisations. Such a narrow framing of diversity has a range of negative implications.

For issues of trust, risk communication, and the heeding of warnings, it is important that the people serving a community ‘look like’ the community, and thus in increasingly diverse societies, there needs to be greater representation of diversity in all forms in emergency organisations. In Australia at least, it is no secret that disaster management in practice is dominated by older straight white males, which may be difficult for many in communities to relate to. A lack of diversity also impacts the amount of and types of people who volunteer in disaster organisations. Volunteers are vital to many organisations, but again, if organisations don’t represent them, community members may not be inclined to join. Significantly, if the people designing and implementing disaster policies do not represent or at least appreciate the diversity of populations they are working for, disaster management in policy and practice will remain limited in its ability to adequately deliver its aims of decreasing disaster impacts for communities (as per my first point in this section).

In academia, I believe we can do better here too. Emergency organisations are not unique in their often narrow binary framings of gender. In terms of further work, we need more research into experiences of gender and sexual minorities in disaster management in general, and into more nuanced and specific questions in a variety of contexts, such as exploration of differences between groups under the LGBTIQ umbrella, and further, between individuals within each of those sub-categories. In teaching on disaster management we could look to include perspectives from a more diverse range of scholars from various backgrounds. While I haven’t surveyed the suggested readings for my courses, my feeling is the author list is likely dominated by cisgender males, probably Caucasian and heterosexual too.

  1. Can we encourage more comprehensive and better-informed media reporting of disasters beyond crisis response?
    Mainstream media reporting on disaster management largely focuses on immediate response to emergencies. I appreciate this may make for a more exciting news story, but this presents a limited view of disaster management, which is complex and involves so much more than emergency response. Promotion of activities like disaster preparedness in news stories may be helpful for achieving some of the policy objectives mentioned above, such as disaster risk reduction and community resilience. Further, disaster impacts do not stop when the journalists move on, and the effects of disasters extend into the future, often for years. Yet, disaster recovery stories are rarely told (there are exceptions of course, e.g. Al Jazeera produced a number of follow-up stories in the years after the Haiti earthquake in 2010).

    Media tend to over-report the experiences of ‘home citizens’ in disaster areas, for example the stories of British citizens impacted by Hurricane Irma in the United States, or Australian and British tourists in areas impacted by the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami. My colleague, Gemma Sou, has written on these and related topics, and calls for greater recognition of the impacts to local people in disaster regions. Further to this, I argue that increased emphasis on home citizens in the media discourages people at ‘home’ from relating risk to themselves (by ‘home’, I mean the country the media outlet is largely reporting to, e.g. BBC to Britain). Reporting on tourists in disasters contributes to a mentality that disasters happen ‘over there’ and people who go ‘over there’ are at risk, but they are safe at home, which is not an accurate narrative.

    Finally, western media could present a more global picture of disasters (particularly those claiming to deliver ‘world news’). During Hurricane Irma in the US, for instance, there were several ongoing disasters with impacts on populations comparable to Irma that received substantially less coverage (e.g. cholera outbreak in Yemen, floods in India, Bangladesh and Nepal, a mudslide in Sierra Leone). Alluding to my points in section 3, media could also present stories on and from more diverse perspectives in delivering more global pictures of disasters (Research has shown LGBTIQ narratives are rarely told in mainstream disaster reporting, for instance, and news media influences both public understandings and disaster policies). Of course, I recognise the commercial impetus that influences what and how journalists and media outlets report on disasters, and the reality of providing content that will satisfy readers (paying customers). I would question, however, the role of national, largely government (or tax payer) funded news broadcasters. Are national broadcasters like the BBC or ABC (Australia) presenting the kind of balanced coverage of disasters we (I, at least) might hope for from a non-commercial service?

These are just some of the current research, policy, and practice challenges I perceive for disaster management, and of course there are many more. While we continue to conduct our work and engage in this field, whether it be through policy and practice, academic research, or studies at HCRI and elsewhere, I encourage us to be aware: aware of our relative positions and perspectives, and to increasingly consider the perspectives of others. I started this post by saying that disaster management is complex, and I will finish in recognition of that by calling for greater integration between individuals and sectors involved in disaster management, including academia, government and disaster organisations, the private sector, and, significantly, citizens from all walks of life, because complex problems are rarely solved with simple solutions.

Australian Marriage Equality: Why I cried today, and then cried some more.

The Australian parliament passed marriage equality into law today. As I walked to work on a cold, grey morning in Manchester, UK, I cried. I’ve shed the odd tear in public many times before imagining this day. But today I cried, and I cried, and then I cried some more. I sobbed in my office until I was physically exhausted.

I cried because I and everybody else in my country who has lived a life of being ‘different’, ‘less’ or ‘not worthy’ due to no choice of our own, purely for who we might love, are now, by law, the same, equal, and as worthy as anybody else to marry who we choose.

I cried because the years I have struggled and campaigned for this, the years my friends have struggled and campaigned for this, and the many years before us that many others have fought for this equality, many without seeing the reward, have not been for nothing.

I cried because of the efforts of so many around the country to make this happen. I cried for the little boy in Sydney who wanted to use a sky-writer to tell people to vote yes, and I cried for the teenager in Bega who distributed rainbow socks to anybody he could get to wear them in support – both far too young to actually vote themselves.

I cried for the children and teens now and in the future, queer or otherwise, who won’t grow up in the Australian society I did.

I cried because all those people who called me names, spat at me, threatened me, excluded me, and even probably hated me, just because of my perceived sexuality, cannot put me down anymore; I am now part of the majority (well, A majority at least).

I cried because the woman who lived next door to me and who, when as a teenager my soccer ball hit the fence, screeched at me “poofter” and “faggot”, her words cutting me like knives as I ran and hid in my bedroom, may one day watch over that same fence as I marry a man in the back garden. I may be a poofter or I may not be; whatever I am, I am proud of it, and I will not hide anymore.

I cried because I am happy. I cried because I am proud.

I cried because I am relieved, and so, so exhausted.

I cried because some people still said no.

I cried because everything still hurts.

I cried because many of the people who I love and care about so much will never fully understand how this feels, nor can they fully understand how I have felt all these years. Today we can celebrate together, but it doesn’t erase how lonely I have been, not yet at least.

I cried because I. Am. Okay.

I cried because things will be better.

I cried because, at least for a moment in this crazy and often hurtful world, love wins.

Some reflections on the Sydney rally for marriage equality

Rally for Marriage Equality, Sydney Town Hall – Photo by Billy Haworth







Today I attended the rally for marriage equality in Sydney. It was the first ever event of this kind I’ve attended. Even as a long time supporter (even if not in public demonstrations) of equal marriage rights, I found it quite emotional at times. Some of the stories told during a number of speeches, such as that of the struggles of a long time champion of LGBTI rights in Perth who took her own life just last week at the age of only 20, were quite hard to swallow. There were chants, words of inspiration, a march up Oxford Street, a re-chalking of the famous rainbow crossing at Taylor Square (the original was removed as “a matter of road and pedestrian safety“), and even a bit of confrontation with an opposing Christian group damning us all to hell – the “I say bigots, you say Fuck Off!” chant was particularly punchy in this instance. I don’t want to go too much into the ins and outs of LGBTI struggles in Australia as this blog isn’t really the place for it, and quite frankly that would make for a damn long article. But I do want to mention a couple of thoughts I had during today’s events.

First, if Australia is such an ‘advanced’ nation, why does it feel we are so far behind other parts of the world on this issue? Same-sex marriage is legal in Argentina, Belgium, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, France, Iceland, Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Portugal, Spain, South Africa, Sweden, the United Kingdom, Uruguay, and some sub-national jurisdictions in Mexico and the United States. Of course, each of these places experienced their own struggles along the way, and these haven’t always ceased just because legislation allowing equal marriage has passed (see the recent backlash against same-sex marriage and adoption laws in France). It seems so obvious to me sometimes that Australia should be on that list, particularly as a country without the strong dominance of Church power that other nations face as an obstacle. Is a long run of conservative governments on this issue the reason why we’re so far behind? With a federal election in just 6 days this could be the time that changes. In terms of major parties, The Greens have supported marriage equality for a long time, and the Labor party now says if they are re-elected into power they will act on the issue too. But a Liberal government in power would see no change and no equal marriage rights for LGBTI people (at least for some time to come). The prospect of the latter is a sombre thought.

The second observation I want to comment on is the notion of place and power. A space in the CBD of Australia’s largest city normally reserved for cars and buses was today taken over by a few hundred passionate people with something to say walking all over this space. Oxford Street, a place long-associated with the LGBTI community, the Mardi Gras parade, and gay rights in Sydney, today became the site of a real power shift in the city; from the dominance of convention and the motor vehicle to the (somewhat still controlled) free reign of rally-goers marching and chanting to make their voices heard on an issue they believe in. The crossing at Taylor Square was ‘reclaimed’ with the marking of the rainbow. The everyday function of this place and the identity of the place are very different things, and the shift from the dominance of function to a dominance of meaning and identity was interesting to be a part of. A big aspect of any movement is power, and showing ones power, and having places of power – often through aligned identity of the people and the place. Recent evidence suggests that gay residents and commerce are gradually abandoning the area around gay Sydney’s most visible and central streetscape, resulting in its gradual ‘degaying’ (See Brad Ruting, 2006). Today, Oxford Street and Taylor Square once again became crucial and powerful places for LGBTI identity, and for the present and long-running struggle for equal rights in Australia.
 
Chalking the Rainbow Crossing, Taylor Square – Photo by Billy Haworth