I’ve just returned from a few dreamy, windy, colourful days at Green Gathering, where I had the joy of co-holding the Queer Space in the Campaigns Field.
It was… a lot of things. Tender. Tiring. Hopeful. Hilarious.
Full of connection, curiosity, wild weather, and the kind of community that grows when you make space for people to just be.
We held sharing circles and coffee mornings. We talked about toilets. We made flags and memories and tea.
We also talked about identity, activism, care, grief, love, boundaries, burnout, neurodivergence, joy, and all the beautiful strange edges of queerness.
Safer Spaces Aren’t Perfect - But They Matter
One of the biggest lessons from this week? Safer space doesn’t mean perfect space.
It means intentional space, one where we try to centre care, clarity, and community, even when things get messy.
We used a simple Safer Spaces Agreement to guide the energy in the tent — a list of values that reminded us all:
You don’t have to explain your identity.
You can say no.
You are allowed to rest.
This is a space where trans, queer, disabled, and marginalised people are centred - not just included.
It wasn’t about strict rules. It was about expectations of kindness, and making sure the most vulnerable people felt welcome and safe to show up.
What Helped the Space Work
If you're planning to hold a community space, whether at a festival, event, or small workshop, here are some simple things that really worked for us:
Consent-based participation (nothing was compulsory, not even introductions)
Sensory-friendly options - soft things to touch, fidget toys, low-pressure making materials, tea
Creative quiet - some sessions were just making, talking optional
Badges that people could make to express pronouns, moods, identities, or roles
Holding the space with presence, not performance
Honestly, what made it work most was this: we cared. We noticed. We adjusted. We stayed human.
Coming Home from the Field
I’m still processing all the beautiful moments and the emotional work of holding space like that. (If you saw me curled up in my PJs with tea and a blanket looking like a washed-up oracle, no you didn’t.)
But I came away more convinced than ever that queer spaces matter - not just for politics, but for aliveness.
Making art together in those spaces? It’s not fluff. It’s resistance. It’s healing. It’s how we remember who we are.
If You're Building Queer, Neurodivergent or Creative Community...
Whether you’re running a group, hosting an art session, or just dreaming of holding space for others, here’s what I’d offer:
You don’t have to be an expert.
You do need to listen.
Keep it clear. Keep it kind. Keep it consensual.
And don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.
Thank you to everyone who stopped by the Queer Space at Green Gathering. Thank you to the amazing crew - my partner Nicola, Al Head who founded the space some years ago, Alex Thurley-Ratcliff, Joy McKay, Lucy Aphramor and Helen aka Pinkwitch.
Thank you for showing up, sharing, helping, making, and being your gorgeous selves.
