Click for full size version text version of the story of my coming out published in the Voice* June 2000 (*magazine of the CWU)

Working my own way out

A new TUC survey says 13 per cent of the workforce think it's OK for managers to sack a colleague for being gay or lesbian.

CWU branch rep Duncan Strivens spent the best part of twenty years building up the courage to 'come out' to his work mates. He braced himself for the homophobic backlash and "suddenly" nothing happened.

Derek Suffling finds out why.

If you're gay but still in the closet at work, it's the dreaded question: 'What did you get up to at the weekend?' "If I'd have said: 'Well, actually I went to Soho, met a stranger and ended up sharing a bed with him' it would have been a bit much. So I always ended up saying something bland like 'I went to the pub with some mates'."

CWU activist Duncan Strivens is recalling how he took the big decision to go public about his sexuality after nearly twenty years in the closet. "It's really hard work concealing the truth for so long like that," he reveals. "You forget what you've told people and end up contradicting yourself. It's very stressful." Unfortunately, putting up with homophobia at work is still necessary if you are trying to conceal your true sexual identity. "You have to play along. Every time we went to the pub at lunchtime we'd hear jokes about poofs and queers and you'd have to laugh along. That's what really hurts."

A youthful 35, Duncan joined BT as an apprentice technician at 16. For the past nine years he has worked as the link between customers, field engineers and exchanges at a BT centre in Eltham.

As equality officer and health and safety officer for the London South East branch of the CWU, he may deal with any of the branch's 1100 members. Until recently none of them knew he was gay, so coming out was always going to be a big deal.

But for Duncan it has been a gradual process, and he is convinced he would never have summoned up the courage to go public if he hadn't become involved with the union. "Eight years ago I started going to branch meetings," he explains. "Soon I found myself elected a committee member. Then I became health and safety rep. Our branch chair Steve Granville saw some potential in me and suggested I went on a union skills course at Alvescot in January 98, which helped to build my confidence."

At a second skills course a few months later the subject of homophobia came up, and Duncan became aware of the union's Lesbian and Gay Advisory Committee (LGAC) for the first time. When he discovered the committee was hosting its annual seminar at Alvescot he decided to go.

"Actually I sneaked off - I didn't tell anyone I was going. I was dead nervous. Every roundabout on the journey was an invitation to turn around and go home. "I had all these stereotypical images in my head about gay activists. When I got there it was a relief to find everyone seemed so normal. Suddenly the whole world opened up. It was like a secret community within the union."

When a post became vacant on the LGAC, Duncan decided to apply. Asking Steve for help with the application was the first step in coming out to him. But it was only later over a drink that Duncan finally brought things out into the open. "Steve was the first person in the union I ever told. He'd always been really open with me and I found myself just coming out with it. He was very cool about it. He said he'd suspected I was gay for ages."

Duncan then told his closest work colleague. "He said he'd always thought I was gay as well. I obviously hadn't done a very good job of hiding it," he joked. "My friend said he'd known for years but respected my privacy. I always thought I'd hidden it quite well. "Where was all the harassment and abuse which, through hearing about the experiences of other people in LGAC, I'd expected to get?"

Duncan says he has yet to experience any negative reactions from colleagues as a result of his revelations. Despite this he completely understands gay and lesbian workers who put up a false front at work: "It took me a long time to come out but through the union I built up my courage gradually and eventually the time seemed right. I'm totally against people being 'OUT’ed' and all that. You have to feel comfortable enough to do it - it's a big step. "I wouldn't say it's the right thing to do in every case," Duncan adds, "but it has proved tremendously liberating for me. I don't have to pretend any more, I can be myself. "Now if one of my colleagues sees a good-looking woman and says something like 'I really fancy her' I can say 'That's OK, I'll take the boyfriend.'"

Securing a place on the Lesbian and Gay Advisory Committee was the culmination of a journey of self-discovery for Duncan. "I remember sitting there in my first LGAC meeting at the union's HQ feeling completely over the moon. Here I was, this shy person who used to sit quietly at the back of branch meetings, and now I'm this gay union activist. It was a tremendous feeling."

Now as part of the LGAC Duncan is fighting for the rights of gay and lesbian colleagues, to make it safer for them to be out at work. "It's not just a Question of encouraging people to come out we have to change the working environment so it's not a big deal." Duncan is encouraged by the findings of a TUC survey* which suggests roughly three quarters of the workforce disapprove of discrimination against gay and lesbian colleagues. But he still feels there is a lot of work to do, and that coming out is a very important part of that process. "People who still discriminate are probably only doing it through ignorance," he suggests: "They probably don't know any gay people or they do but they don't realise it. It's only through my work on equal opportunities issues that I'm getting a proper handle on racism, by meeting black and Asian colleagues."

Lobbying for changes in the law is also important. High on the LGAC's agenda, for example, is the issue of recognition for the long-term partners of gay and lesbian workers, so they can enjoy the same transferable pension rights as established heterosexual couples do if a partner dies. An LGAC-supported motion before annual conference this year urges the adoption of the policy document Real Families, which aims to highlight such issues at TUC level.

Duncan admits he would never have become active in this way without the support network that the CWU and the LGAC provide. Coming out can be a massive leap in the dark, but Duncan is glad he was able to take one step at a time. "Now, when people read this, everyone at annual conference will know and everyone who deals with me at work will know. It's taken me a while but I think I'm ready at last."

*Entitled Straight up! Why the law should protect lesbian and gay workers