The groundbreaking LGBTIreland report proves that the stigma that was exploited to make sure Roger Casement went to his death in disgrace 100 years ago is still a part of our society, says Brian Finnegan.

On March 15, the 100th anniversary of Proclamation Day, schools across Ireland raised the Irish flag, read the proclamation and sang the National Anthem. Each body of students was also asked to produce a Proclamation for 2016, to reflect the values and ideals of this generation.

On RTÉ Radio One’s Morning Ireland, a Leaving Cert student read from the 2016 Proclamation written by pupils at Coláiste Iognáid in Galway. “We adamantly believe in equality for all, regardless of gender, age, mental or physical ability, religion, race, or sexuality,” the students’ Proclamation went. “We do not discriminate; instead we aspire to the fruition of happiness.”

It’s not a far cry from the original Proclamation, which aspired to equality for all of Ireland’s children, but didn’t break it down into the specific groups that were discriminated against. In 2016, 100 years after so many gave their lives so that Ireland could gain independence, we do have equality of sexuality, in that our country’s constitution fully recognises same-sex married couples, and protects their rights. But we still have a long way to go in terms of gender, mental or physical ability and race, and while lesbian and gay men enjoy constitutional equality, on our streets, the story is not so cut and dried.

“I Voted for Marriage Equality, But I Didn’t Vote For That.”

I’m referring to the assault on Victoria Curtis on Dublin’s Camden Street on a Sunday night in early March, when she was walking home with a friend. Vicki, a member of the LGBT community, was repeatedly punched in the face by her attacker, who called her a “faggot”. She posted a picture of her beaten face on Facebook the next day, saying: “This is what being punched four times in the face looks like, because you’re a queer.”

The Irish media picked the story up, and the following morning, which happened to be International Women’s Day, Vicki spoke to Ryan Tubridy on RTÉ Radio 1, telling him that her attacker said: “I voted Yes for marriage equality but I didn’t vote for that.”

“He said he wouldn’t hit my friend because she was a girl, but that he didn’t know what ‘that’ was – directing it at me,” she added.

This is what you get when you look beneath the patina of full social acceptance that surrounded the marriage equality referendum. I’m not saying that everyone who voted Yes might attack an identifably queer woman and refer to her as ‘that’, or that there remains a strain of violence towards LGBT people in Irish society (although, it could be argued that there is – especially towards trans people), but if you look at the spike in numbers calling the LGBT Helpline and Gay Switchboard, and the huge strain that has been put on groups like Trans Equality Network Ireland (TENI) and the LGBT youth organisation BeLonG To in the wake of the referendum and gender recognition legislation, something is very clear. There are still a lot of vulnerable LGBT people out there in need of help.

Paula Fagan, the National Coordinator with LGBT Helpline, told GCN last month that she was struck by the fact that people still find it very difficult to tell their families that they’re lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender. “In a sense the referendum has softened the edges, but society still doesn’t rejoice in people being lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender,” she said. “There’s still a stigma about it, no question.”

Stigma Writ Large and Clear

This stigma is writ large and clear in LGBTIreland, a report published this week by GLEN, in association with BeLonG To and TENI, which finds that attempted suicide is three times higher among 19-25 year old LGBT people, in comparison to a similar age group in the My World national youth mental health study. Severe levels of depression and self-harming were related to school experiences, societal attitudes and fear of rejection.

The LGBTIreand study shows that LGBT people continue to experience victimisation and harassment in their day-to-day lives, with 75% of the 2,264 respondents reporting having been verbally abused due to being LGBT (30% in the last year), and 1 in 3 having being threatened with physical violence due to being LGBT.

Bizarrely it’s the same victimisation and stigma that led to the blackening of Roger Casement’s name 100 years ago, when The Black Diaries were published. Casement, who sought to aid the Rising by importing weapons from Germany, had been captured on Banna Strand in Kerry and was in prison in Britain, awaiting adjucation in the Crown’s case against him for treason. An article in this issue of GCN argues that the diaries were faked, so that Casement’s league of supporters would turn against him and he would be executed, with his status as a martyr for the Irish cause killed in the same fell blow. While many argue the diaries were real, their lurid gay content, published in popular newspapers of the day, made sure Casement, a staunch and courageous defender of human rights, went to the gallows in disgrace.

Ancient Internalised Homophobia

Vicki Curtis’ experience on the streets of Dublin shows that such stigma runs deep in our society, even if on the surface we have begun making the moves to cast it off. And how could it be any other way? Just because the Irish people voted Yes in the marriage referendum last year, it doesn’t mean that our ancient internalised homophobia simply evaporated.

What I liked about Viki’s response to her attacker was the educational empowerment she asserted. In an open letter to him, Viki said: “I am a proud gay woman and you won’t change me – but I hope in some way this might change you.”

The stigma that surrounded Roger Casement’s last days may still have a some kind of hold on our society, but we live in a time when lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people can say that we are cherished as equal citizens of Ireland. And our young people are making new Proclamations that include gender and sexuality in their aspirations for an equal society. Our work is to make it so that no person will ever be attacked for their sexual or gender identity on our streets or in our schools, and that no one will feel unable to speak out about who they are because of stigma.