24 resultados para LGBT.
em Queensland University of Technology - ePrints Archive
Resumo:
There has been an extended engagement with how young people experience policing, with a focus on the intersection between policing and indigeneity, ethnicity, gender, and social class. Interestingly, sexuality and/or gender diversity has been almost completely overlooked, both nationally and internationally. This paper reports on LGBT youth service providers’ accounts about police and LGBT young people interactions. It overviews the outcomes of semi-structured interviews with key LGBT youth service providers in different regions of Brisbane, Queensland. As the first qualitative engagement with these issues from the perspective of service providers, it highlights not only how LGBT young people experience policing, but also how service providers need to ‘work the system’ of policing to produce the best outcomes for LGBT young people.
Resumo:
This paper explores how visibly non-heteronormative bodies mediate policing experiences of LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) young people, an area that has been mostly ignored in research about policing young people. Informed by interviews with 35 LGBT young people in Brisbane, Queensland, this paper addresses this gap by exploring how the non-heteronormative body mediates policing experiences of LGBT young people. Drawing on Foucault (1984), Butler (1990a), and other queer theory, the paper argues young non-heteronormative bodies visibly perform ‘queerness’, are read by police, and shape police-LGBT youth interactions. While this is complicated by looking at-risk (in terms of risk factors like homelessness, substance abuse), and looking risky (in terms of risk-taking or criminalised activities), the paper concludes noting how youthful LGBT bodies are regulated by police as non-heteronormative and deviant.
Resumo:
For some time now, research has suggested lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) young people are ‘at-risk’ of victimisation and legally ‘risky’. Relatively few studies have examined how ‘risk factor’ research influences the everyday lives of LGBT young people. This paper reports how the experiences of police by 35 LGBT young people in Brisbane, Queensland reflected discourses about LGBT riskiness and how danger informed their interactions with police in public spaces. The participants specifically note how looking at-risk or looking risky affected their experiences of policing. The paper will conclude with recommendations for improved future policing practice.
Resumo:
This chapter reports on a narrative project recording the experiences of LGBT former and current police officers in the Queensland Police Service (QPS), Australia. It begins by examining the historical and research contexts of LGBT police officers, followed by a discussion of the methodology employed for the project. The chapter then examines and analyzes key themes emerging from the data about coming out, macho police culture, and the double life syndrome often experienced by LGBT police officers. Finally, it suggests that further research might uncover a more widespread application of these findings.
Resumo:
This paper explores how visibly transgressing heteronormativity shapes police interactions with LGBT young people. While research evidences how sexually and gender diverse bodies can be abused in schools, policing is overlooked. Interviews with 35 LGBT young people demonstrate how bodies transgressing heteronormativity (that is, non-heteronormative bodies) mediate their policing experiences in Queensland, Australia. Drawing on Foucault, Butler, and others, the paper suggests police interactions and use of discretion with LGBT young people was informed by non-heteronormative bodies discursively performing queerness in ways read by police. The paper concludes noting tensions produced for youthful LGBT bodies in public spaces.
Resumo:
Research has suggested that lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) young people are “at-risk” of victimization and/or legally “risky.” Relatively few studies have examined the social construction of risk in “risk factor” research and whether risk as a concept influences the everyday lives of LGBT young people. This article reports how 35 LGBT young people and seven service provider staff in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia perceived LGBT youth–police interactions as reflecting discourses about LGBT riskiness and danger. The participants specifically note how they thought looking at-risk and/or looking risky informed their policing experiences. The article concludes with recommendations for improving future policing practice.
Resumo:
Relationships between LGBT people and police have been turbulent for some time now, and have been variously characterized as supportive (McGhee, 2004) and antagonistic (Radford, Betts, & Ostermeyer, 2006). These relationships were, and continue to be, influenced by a range of political, legal, cultural, and social factors. This chapter will examine historical and social science accounts of LGBT-police histories to chart the historical peaks and troughs in these relationships. The discussion demonstrates how, in Western contexts, we oscillate between historical moments of police criminalizing homosexual perversity and contemporary landscapes of partnership between police and LGBT people. However, the chapter challenges the notion that it is possible to trace this as a lineal progression from a painful past to a more productive present. Rather, it focuses on specific moments, marked by pain or pleasure or both, and how these moments emerge and re-emerge in ways that shaped LGBT-police landscapes in potted, uneven ways. The chapter concludes noting how, although certain ideas and police practices may shift towards more progressive notions of partnership policing, we cannot just take away the history that emerged out of mistrust and pain.
Resumo:
This article argues for exploring lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) young people’s experiences with police. While research examines how factors such as indigeneity influence young peoples’ experiences with police, how sexuality and/or gender identity mediates these relationships remains largely unexplored. Key bodies of research suggest a need to explore this area further, including: literature documenting links between homophobic violence against LGBT young people and outcomes such as homelessness that fall within the gambit of policing work; research showing reluctance of LGBT communities to report crime to police; international research documenting homophobic police attitudes and Australian research demonstrating arguably homophobic court outcomes; and research outlining increasing police support of LGBT communities. Drawing on these bodies of literature, this article argues that LGBT young people experience policing warrants further research.
Resumo:
Using interview data on LGBT young peoples’ policing experiences, I argue policing practices work to constrain public visibilities of sexual and gender diversity in public spaces. Police actions recounted by LGBT young people suggest the workings of a certain kind of visuality (Mason, 2002) and evidenced more subtle actions that sought to constrain, regulate, and punish public visibilities of sexual and gender diversity. Aligning with the work of sexualities academics and theorists, this paper suggests that, like violence is itself a bodily spectacle from which onlookers come to know things, policing works to subtly constrain public visibilities of “queerness”. Policing interactions with LGBT young people serves the purpose of visibly yet unverifiably (Mason, 2002) regulating displays of sexual and gender diversity in public spaces. The paper concludes noting how police actions are nonetheless visible and therefore make knowable to the public the importance of keeping same sex intimacy invisible in public spaces.
Resumo:
Purpose: This study provides insight into the histories and current statuses of queer community archives in California and explores what the archives profession can learn from the queer community archives and archivists. Through the construction of histories of three community archives (GLBT Historical Society; Lavender Library, Archives, and Cultural Exchange of Sacramento, Inc.; and ONE National Gay & Lesbian Archives), the study discovered why these independent, community-based archives were created, the issues that influenced their evolution, and the similarities and differences among them. Additionally, it compared the community archives to institutional archives which collect queer materials to explore the similarities and differences among the archives and determine possible implications for the archives profession. Significance: The study contributes to the literature in several significant ways: it is the first in-depth comparative history of the queer community archives; it adds to the cross-disciplinary research in archives and history; it contributes to the current debates on the nature of the archives and the role of the professional archivist; and it has implications for changing archival practice. Methodology: This study used social constructionism for epistemological positioning and new social history theory for theoretical framework. Information was gathered through seven oral history interviews with community archivists and volunteers and from materials in the archives’ collections. This evidence was used to construct the histories of the archives and determine their current statuses. The institutional archives used in the comparisons are the: University of California, Berkeley’s Bancroft Library; University of California, Santa Cruz’s Special Collections and University Archives; and San Francisco Public Library’s James C. Hormel Gay and Lesbian Center. The collection policies, finding aids, and archival collections related to the queer communities at the institutional and community archives were compared to determine commonalities and differences among the archives. Findings: The findings revealed striking similarities in the histories of the community archives and important implications for the archives’ survival and their relevancy to the archives profession. Each archives was started by an individual or small group collecting materials to preserve history that would otherwise have been lost as institutional archives were not collecting queer materials. These private collections grew and became the basis for the community archives. The community archives differ in their staffing models, circulation policies, and descriptive practices. The community archives have grown to incorporate more public programming functions than most institutional archives. While in the past, the community archives had little connection to institutional archives, today they have varying degrees of partnerships. However, the historical lack of collecting queer materials by institutional archives makes some members of the communities reluctant to donate materials to institutional archives or collaborate with them. All three queer community archives are currently managed by professionally trained and educated archivists and face financial issues impacting their continued survival. The similarities and differences between the community and institutional archives include differences in collection policies, language differences in the finding aids, and differing levels of relationships between the archives. However, they share similar sensitivity in the use of language in describing the queer communities and overlap in the types of materials collected. Implications: This study supports previous research on community archives showing that communities take the preservation of history into their own hands when ignored by mainstream archives (Flinn, 2007; Flinn & Stevens, 2009; Nestle, 1990). Based on the study’s findings, institutional archivists could learn from their community archivist counterparts better ways to become involved in and relevant to the communities whose records they possess. This study also expands the understanding of history of the queer communities to include in-depth research into the archives which preserve and make available material for constructing history. Furthermore, this study supports reflective practice for archivists, especially in terms of descriptions used in finding aids. It also supports changes in graduate education for archives students to enable archivists in the United States to be more fully cognizant of community archives and able to engage in collaborative, international projects. Through this more activist role of the archivists, partnerships between the community and institutional archives would be built to establish more collaborative, respectful relationships with the communities in this post-custodial age of the archives (Stevens, Flinn, & Shepherd, 2010). Including community archives in discussions of archival practice and theory is one way of ensuring archives represent and serve a diversity of voices.
Resumo:
Using interview data on LGBT young people’s policing experiences, I argue policing and security works as a program of government (Dean 1999; Foucault 1991; Rose 1999) that constrains the visibilities of diverse sexuality and gender in public spaces. While young people narrated police actions as discriminatory, the interactions were complex and multi‐faceted with police and security working to subtly constrain the public visibilities of ‘queerness’. Same sex affection, for instance, was visibly yet unverifiably (Mason 2002) regulated by police as a method of governing the boundaries of proper gender and sexuality in public. The paper concludes by noting how the visibility of police interactions with LGBT young people demonstrates to the public that public spaces are, and should remain, heterosexual spaces.
Resumo:
California is home to multiple queer community archives created by community members outside of government, academic, and public archives. These archives are maintained by the communities and are important spaces not only for the preservation of records, but also as safe spaces to study, gather, and learn about the communities’ histories. This article describes the histories of three such queer community archives (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender Historical Society Lavender Library, Archives, and Cultural Exchange of Sacramento, Inc.; and ONE National Gay & Lesbian Archives) in order to discuss the role of activism in the community archives and implications for re-examining the role of activism to incorporate communities into the heart of archival professional work. By understanding the impetus for creating and maintaining queer community archives, archivists can use this knowledge to foster more reflective practices to be more inclusive in their archival practices through outreach, collaboration, and descriptive practices. This article extends our knowledge of community archives and provides evidence for the need to include communities in archival professional practice.
Resumo:
Within criminological literature, there are growing references to a 'queer/ed criminology'. To date, ‘queer criminology’ remains a loose collection of studies and criminal-justice related commentary that uses the term 'queer'. Amid the growing calls for the more substantial development of these criminological studies, it is timely to reflect on the ways that the term ‘queer’ has been used in these discourses, to what ends, and with what effects. This paper considers the manner in which the term 'queer' has been used in these criminological and criminal justice discourses. It suggests that ‘queer’ has been used in two dominant ways: as an 'umbrella' term for lesbian, gay, bisexual, intersex, and queer-identified people; and to signify the use of theoretical tools with which to represent sexuality- and gender-diverse people more effectively within criminological research. The paper will argue that these ways of using ‘queer’ have a variety of implications and effects. Specifically, using ‘queer’ as an umbrella term has the potential to reinforce identity categories and the politics that surround identities (a critique that has often appeared in queer contexts), while using it as a theoretical tool potentially reproduces various investments in criminology and criminal justice institutions. Both uses may preclude other productive avenues for critique opened up by the term ‘queer’. The paper will conclude by suggesting that using ‘queer’ as a verb to signify a more deconstructive project directed towards criminology is a possible direction for these discussions. While this approach has its own effects, and articulates with existing deconstructive approaches in criminology, it is important to explore these possibilities at this point in the development of a ‘queer/ed criminology’ for two reasons: it highlights that multiple, and often competing, ‘queer/ed criminologies’ exist; and it expands the diverse possibilities heralded by the notion of ‘queer’.
Resumo:
This paper discusses the fast emerging challenges for Malay and Muslim sexual minority storytellers in the face of an aggressive state-sponsored Islamisation of a constitutionally secular Malaysia. I examine the case of Azwan Ismail, a gay Malay and Muslim Malaysian who took part in the local ‘It Gets Better’ Project, initiated in December 2010 by Seksualiti Merdeka (an annual sexuality rights festival) and who suffered an onslaught of hostile comments from fellow Malay Muslims. In this paper, I ask how a message aimed at discouraging suicidal tendencies among sexual minority teenagers can go so wrong. In discussing the contradictions between Azwan’s constructions of self and the expectations others have of him, I highlight the challenges for Azwan’s existential self. For storytellers who are vulnerable if visible, the inevitable sharing of a personal story with unintended and hostile audiences when placed online, can have significant repercussions. The purist Sunni Islam agenda in Malaysia not only rejects the human rights of the sexual minority in Malaysia but has influenced and is often a leading hostile voice in both regional and international blocs. This self-righteous and supremacist political Islam fosters a more disabling environment for vulnerable, minority communities and their human rights. It creates a harsher reality for the sexual minority that manifests in State-endorsed discrimination, compulsory counselling, forced rehabilitation and their criminalisation. It places the right of the sexual minority to live within such a community in doubt. I draw on existing literature on how personal stories have historically been used to advance human rights. Included too, is the signifance and implications of the work by social psychologists in explaining this loss of credibility of personal stories. I then advance an analytical framework that will allow storytelling as a very individual form of witnessing to reclaim and regain its ‘truth to power’.