Virgil

I’m just going to leave the recorder running, okay? And if at any point you wanna stop, or need to skip a question, you can say break or pass.

Got it.

So, just a warmer question then... Who are you and where are you are from?

Erm, hi. I’m... I’m Virgil, and I’m originally from Crewe.

I thought I could detect an English accent.

I get that a lot living up here. Although I’ve had people say Welsh once or twice.

I wouldn’t have said that.

Me neither. Ha ha.

So Virgil, what brings you here today?

Well, my cousin Frieda asked me to do a little hidden history thing for her queer art show. I’m queer myself, so talk a bit about my experiences, really.

Marvelous. Well, we really appreciate you taking the time to talk to us about this. Oh... before we begin, hi, I’m Loraine Peets, and behind the camera is Frieda Saunders, co-curators of the hidden histories programme. So... you said you were born in Crewe.

Yes. 1998. Not old enough to remember Y2K, but old enough to remember Finding Nemo in the cinema. 2003 that was. Saw it in the cinema six times. Was a very slow summer for films. Ha.

You’d moved to Edinburgh at that point? For context, we have talked before the cameras started rolling.

Yes. We moved in 2002. Me, my mum and my brother. Dad stayed behind for work.

When did you first know you were queer?

Ooh... now that’s a hard one. Because the signs were always there. Always. But ... well, I suppose I knew when I was about 7/8 years old. But didn’t like acknowledge it or know for certain until I was 13. That’s when I officially came out. Or more accurately, I was outed to the whole year group. It was a whole thing.

I’m sorry to hear that.

Ugh, shit happens. Especially when you’re queer. People treat you differently. Sometimes there is a degree of discomfort, like you can catch the gay from look or touch. Others offer sympathy. Thoughts, prayers, and lofty, ignorant platitudes that claim they can cure my more sinful ways. Sinful being used to describe love, devotion, affection, compassion and care I have for another individual, who just happens to be a man, which is supposed to be what they preach, but I don’t find it surprising to find such hypocrisy from a book written 2000 plus years ago that, if the words in it are true, many of its readers would be put to death simply by wearing mixed fabric clothing. Or believe blood transfusions are sinful, even though they saved my stepdad’s life. I could go on, but I doubt you have the battery for that. Besides, I am not a theologian.

No?

No. I did RMPS way back in sixth year. The teacher once stared at me in disbelief because I couldn’t name 10 Abba songs.  There’s a term, called Abba, you see, and he thought, because I was queer, I must be able to name 10 songs. We took it as a personal remark, given he didn’t aim it at any of the cis, straight students in the room. Which was pretty much everyone, save my ex-boyfriend.

Wow.

Mum was not impressed. She did not like that teacher. She found him to be a pompous ass.

So, what was life like as an out student at school?

Ehh, ups and downs. More downs than ups. Casual bullying and homophobia, which mounted to physical violence and ostracism. I tried to kill myself in P4. Well... my alter did. I have DID, you see. And they were fronting. An alter who masked to avoid bullying, becoming so damaged by bullying that they felt like the end of their rope... literally. It was an attempted hanging. I survived. Obviously. But we were... scarred. Things didn’t get easier after that.

We had friends. Some. Although honestly felt more like they were acquaintances. We’ve not stayed in touch. Many ditched me when I was outed.

That must have been difficult.

Mmm. Fair weather friends, I think you call them. Anyway, many new alters developed after that. Some of those were more sexually adventurous that led to several scrapes and incidents. Many are already recorded elsewhere. But... my queerness predates my DID. Regardless of what my Dad says. He thinks my DID is a cause for my gender dysphoria.

Is he a doctor?

No. He’s in IT.

So no knowledge or evidence in the field.

Ha! You have just successfully described every armchair pundit, gender critical social media conspiracy theorist, and corrupt, point-scoring politician. Unfortunately, ignorance and bigotry are the current currency in what is being called the “culture war.” A war which I, and many queer people, never enlisted for. I’m a pacifist. I don’t believe in violence. Yet as a queer person, our rights are stripped back for conservative fascist sensibilities. Trans people. Migrants. Asylum Seekers. All of us are targets simply for daring to exist a little bit outside what is deemed by the few as “socially normal and acceptable.” And the worst part is, we are branded the enemy... and people fall for it. Trans women steal women’s rights. Source? Trust me, bro. They don’t, I might add. Trans people are not a monolith. Sure, there are bad trans people in the world. But I can name just as many bad people of any demographic, and if I start showing prejudices towards a group of people, based on the actions of a few, that would be considered highly problematic. But point that out, and you are the problem. And thus our voices are overlooked. All decisions about us, made by those who are not us. And so the cycle continues. We make progress, and JK Rowling and SexMatters bankroll the backslide of the feminist movement by 100 years with a definition of what a woman is, which does not hold water, and also, quite frankly, reduces women to their sexual organs. But that’s feminism if you're a Terf. Or Germ. Or as I like to call them, bigots. They don’t like that. But you know what they say, “the lady doth protest too much.”

Methinks a woman who thinks Lolita a “great and tragic love story” should not have such a sway in modern politics. Especially given that she is an unelected official.

Indeed. Almost as if billionaires think they are above everyone else.

So, I have some more questions, but why don’t we take a break here. Okay?

Sure.