A case for the alcohol-free queer space
The concept of designated sober spaces for the LGBTQ+ community may ostensibly seem an unnecessary proposition. Scotland is regarded as a bastion of equality; a nation where members of the LGBTQ+ community enjoy robust legal protection, the right to marry and are generally (though not entirely) accepted by society at large. Therefore, if, in theory, queer people are free to be themselves nowadays, surely the need for queer-specific sober spaces would be redundant?
This myopic view betrays a myriad of complex issues which strike at the core of the queer community. Issues of identity, safety; its complex relationship with alcohol and drugs; the hyper-normalisation of risky sexual behaviour; as well as a lack of diverse representation within the community itself in traditional gay spaces.
The vast majority of queer-focused socialisation takes place in bars or nightclubs. These environments are often extremely sexualised and geared towards a specific white male demographic. Where does this leave disabled people? People of colour? Neurodiverse people? Non-gender conforming people? With little option but to try and fit themselves into spaces which are not designed to be inclusive and often with greater feelings of marginalisation.
Furthermore, LGBTQ+ people are at much higher risk of developing drug and alcohol problems. In 2019, leading LGBT charity, Stonewall UK, published their seminal LGBT Health Report. It found that gay and bisexual men were one and a half times as likely to be alcohol dependent, and lesbian and bisexual women were four times as likely to be alcohol dependent than their heterosexual counterparts.
Kinder Stronger Better is an informal partnership of services based in Glasgow, which seeks to educate, inform and link-up services to ensure LGBTQ+ people have better access to support services for addiction and mental health issues. Co-founder, David Barbour, explained that struggles with acceptance can lead to LGBTQ+ people having poorer mental health outcomes and expose them to a greater risk of addiction, he said: “The contributory factors of identity struggles can lead people to self-medicate with drugs or alcohol.”
Not only do queer people face an inordinate amount of stigma from society at large, but they also face significant barriers when trying to access addiction support services themselves. David said: “Historically drug and alcohol spaces have been perceived as unwelcoming to LGBTQ+ people. They have been seen to be very macho and not understanding of the LGBTQ+ experience. Our aim is to change this and to link these services up with LGBTQ+ mental health services.”
Whilst David and his team are working tirelessly to ensure that queer people get the support that they need to recover from addiction, there remains a deep connection to partying and drug-taking within the queer community. Newly sober queer people, or indeed teetotal queer people, can find themselves very isolated, with scant opportunity to connect with other queer people in environments which do not contain alcohol.
However, there are members of the community who are now fighting to challenge the way in which queer people have been forced to socialise - offering new, inclusive spaces. One such individual is Oskar Hansen, a performance artist and drag queen based in Edinburgh. In late 2020 they and their friend Zak Riding, a DJ, decided to open Kafe Kweer: Scotland’s first permanent, alcohol-free, queer venue.
Oskar explained the genesis of Kafe Kweer, its ethos and the reaction of the public since its inception more than two years ago, they said: “I saw a post that a little shop in Brunswick, Edinburgh was looking for new owners. I shared the post on social media and said, ‘wouldn’t it be cute if we had a little queer café?’ As a joke. Then I was flooded with comments telling me to do it. Including one from my friend Zak. He said that he was about to write to them too and we should do it together. So, we wrote to the owner, and she loved the idea, and in September 2020 we opened Kafe Kweer.”
Outwardly, Kafe Kweer, may seem like a run-of-the mill modern café, selling vegan goods, artisan coffee, and delectable pastries for the discerning customer. However, on closer inspection, it feels more like a community hub-come-cafe. There is artwork for sale, local produce, and notice boards of forthcoming queer events.
Oskar and Zak set up a GoFundMe page to launch the business, where they were inundated with encouraging comments from the community. Particularly from those of ages who are not well catered for by the current adult, alcohol-fuelled scene. Oskar said: “We had comments from parents saying: ‘my 15-year-old daughter has just come out and this would be an amazing place for her to socialise with her friends’.”
Such responses highlight a lack of spaces for younger queer people who wish to express themselves and meet other queer people in an environment which is safe, age-appropriate and not overtly sexualised. Likewise, older members of the community are often marginalised in traditional gay spaces. Not possessing the sexual currency of youth, nor the desire to be berated by Ariana Grande at 120 decibels, they are routinely excluded from conventional gay spaces.
Since opening its doors Kafe Kweer has been embraced by the local community, taking pride of place (rainbow flag and all) amongst the sleuth of local cafes and delicatessens in the area. However, with homophobic hate crimes on the rise, Oskar has not been immune to the existential queer dread. Thankfully, nestled in this quaint part of Edinburgh, there has been little cause for concern, they explained: “I keep waiting for a hate crime to happen, but so far, we have had nothing.”
Whilst Oskar’s comments may appear glib, they emphasise the hypervigilance felt by members of the community, they said: “But isn’t that just indicative of the trauma we’ve faced, that we’re always ready to have to fight. Thankfully, we’re so lucky here, but I know it could be quite different elsewhere.”
Recent figures released by the UK Police show that there has been a steep rise in sexual orientated hate crimes reported in the UK. The figures showed that a staggering 14,670 homophobic crimes were reported between January–August 2021, compared to 10,817 crimes reported for the same period in 2020. Figures are unknown for 2022, but estimates are that rates have risen further.
The reality for transgender people is far graver. According to figures released by the Home Office in 2021, there were 2630 transphobic crimes reported in the UK – a 16% increase from the previous year. Furthermore, 88% of trans people in the UK do not report a hate crime, according to the Government Equalities Office.
This is not lost on Oskar, who shares a heart-warming story, which highlights the value of safe, sober spaces for the trans community, they said: “We had a trans woman who called one day and asked if she could bring her clothes with her and change in the toilets, because she didn’t feel safe in the street. She was able to do that and have a coffee here, in peace, as herself.”
Whilst Kafe Kweer has managed to become a stalwart for queer sober spaces in Edinburgh, there has been little in the way of alternatives in other parts of the nation – and none with regards to night-time socialising. One organisation trying to change that is QuTo, an initiative seeking to bring queer people together in a sober environment, through education, workshops, and events in Glasgow.
QuTo was established in response to the alcohol problem faced by the queer community in Scotland, by founder, Georgios Pappas. A native Cypriot, Georgios was surprised by the drinking culture here, he said: “In Cyprus, the drinking culture is very different. People socialise with alcohol, but it’s not a means to an end like here. It’s very normal for someone to be at a coffee shop on a Friday night. So, that was one of the key ideas of QuTo: to give queer people an opportunity to socialise differently, especially in the evening.”
Georgios also highlights the link between identity formation, which most queer people begin to cultivate in the gay nightlife scene, and the subsequent disparity of representation of the community within the scene itself, he said: “Traditionally our identities are linked with going out and the consumption of alcohol and drugs. These spaces don’t consider people who are sober, neurodiverse (and can’t handle loud noise), or are physically disabled. Half the clubs are not fully accessible.”
Prior to forming QuTo, Georgios consulted Professor Carol Emslie at Glasgow Caledonian University, who conducted research on queer drinking in Scotland. Speaking on his experiences with Professor Emslie, Georgios said: “She explored gender stereotypes on drinking within the community. She led focus groups, which I found eye-opening. Most of the feedback was that people were participating (in the drinking) not necessarily because they wanted to, but because they didn’t believe that they had an option to do anything else.”
The grassroots work being conducted by Kafe Kweer, QuTo, and Kinder Better Stronger, and the impassioned individuals driving them, highlight a hunger for change in Scotland. Queer people have undergone centuries of trauma, and even in a contemporary, progressive society, very few have been left unscathed. Sober, queer-friendly spaces offer an alternative: a place of safety; a place of community; a place of healing.
Dogged by financial insecurity and ignorance, such places need support. They need investment. They need volunteers. They need voices. They need the queer community to have honest conversations with itself. For now, these organisations may number but a few, but with them lies a kernel of hope. With the right nourishment and support, their impact may transcend mere rainbow-tinged gathering places; they may, in fact, be the chief activators in monumental societal change.