gIt was extremely difficult to row gay people in the 90s. In 1998, I was 16 years old and lived in East London. I went out only to my parents, my sister, and a few friends I made online. I was already a target for homophobic bullying and it was not safe to come out into the world.
I was fortunate enough to live in a loving and supportive home. It was also a politician. In particular, my father was always eager to express his beliefs and principles. My parents both stood for things and cared about others – and they cared about me.
But in school, jokes about AIDS were everyday events and I felt deeply on my own. A so-called friend told me: “If it turns out you're gay, I'll beat it from you.” Like many victims of bullying, I sometimes thought I was the problem.
When I came out to my parents, it was when gay men were still being debated in the UK as a threat to the concept of family. Politicians and others openly view them as gay. I knew my parents loved and supported me, but I still believed that I couldn't live a better life than others. I was able to turn my back from the store, target violence, or be legally fired from work. And even when I tried to balance the idea of finding someone to love this, I knew that the relationships I had were not considered worthy of many legal equality in the state or society. Of all the love and support my mother showed me when I came out, she sadly said: “Your life will be difficult.”
In this context, features were published in the Guardian about parents who expressed sadness, regret, disappointment, or shame over having a gay child. It was not malicious – it was real people who shared their stories – but it felt like yet another example of shame associated with people like me. And it clearly hits my nerves with my dad.
About a week later, on July 13, 1998, my father placed a copy of a paper in front of me and asked me to rely on the letter page. I saw an anonymous letter Heading to “Our Gay Son,” there was a lump in my throat, and I read: Our reaction was a thing of pride and respect. He came out to us in an intelligent, mature and sensitive way, showing that he understands how to go beyond the sexuality of many heterosexual men and women of his age.
I knew it was my father who wrote it, and although I already knew that my parents loved and supported me, it showed that they cared deeply about other people's children as well. I felt an immeasurable pride – and again I felt a sense of possibility. It was the first time I've seen someone near me take action on behalf of lesbian, gay, or bisexual people, and it was inspiring.
Up until that point, my number one subject in school was geography. I felt a great sense of security in viewing the world as morality, social pressure, rocks and rivers that lack people. However, after reading the letter, my perspective quickly began to change. I began to think about the politics I continued to study in college.
My father taught me to present cases for a better, different world. It was the driving force behind my career and launched a campaign for 20 years of social change. During that time I tackled important and controversial social issues, from equal marriage and death assistance to loneliness and wealth inequality.
Today I work as a community member for NGO campaigns Worldwide Witnesshelps to reveal the systems of power and exploitation that promote climate catastrophe. My job is to drive the lasting change of reality that our planet urgently needs.
My career wasn't always easy. Fighting for justice is a sacrificed and success is not guaranteed. In my more hopeless moments, I still seek advice from my father. More than 25 years have passed since he wrote that letter, his principled, practical and caring approach continues to encourage me.
My personal life was not easy either, but it wasn't as difficult as we all feared, especially due to my wonderful parents. Recently my father told me that a letter was written to me, and it happened to be published in the newspaper. I don't think he imagined it would change the course of my life – but he still holds it safely in his desk drawer.
