I put it to Jack Cullen, who works for east London queer venue The Glory. (Gay teens, if you’re reading this here's a pro-tip: staring at your feet, affecting a hunch and talking to yourself won’t make you less of a target.)
I thought it would stop me from getting bullied. I’d correct myself – sometimes out loud – as I walked around: I’d tell myself to hunch more, to hold myself differently, not to pick my feet up. I spent the rest of my teenage years newly aware of a humming in the background. It was like when someone points out a noise and that noise becomes the only thing you can hear. We all knew she meant: I have a gay walk.Īside from the glaring question that this story raises – how do gay farmers walk? – it remains, to this day, one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. Sadly, she concluded, the way I walked was too 'poetic', and I’d never make a convincing farmer. I believe she even threw in a limp wrist for good measure. Pelvis out, shoulders back, hips swishing from side to side. And she demonstrated to the room why I could never play a farmer.įarmers, she explained, walk in a certain way: shoulders forward, slouching posture, heavy stride (looking back, I wonder if she’d only ever seen farmers with club feet). She gathered the entire class into a circle, with me and her at its centre. Here – she thought – here’s a teachable moment.
