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How Being Non-Binary Almost Lost Me My Job

Despite Living in the 21st Century

By Alex CalverPublished 7 years ago 6 min read
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Photo by Eaters Collective on Unsplash

I've worked in hospitality for over a year now. I always found it to be one of the most diverse and open-minded work communities. I thought that I would be accepted into it without question or judgement. For the most part, I was right.

In my first bar job, working at a local country pub, two of my managers were lesbians, multiple waitresses were bisexual and the male team members, whilst straight, were all pretty camp to say the least. I felt at home there; I was never judged or ridiculed for my sexuality or gender.

I was often ridiculed about my choice of haircut but looking back on it now, even I can understand why. Think Harry Potter in Chamber of Secrets, just without the lightning scar or glasses.

Unfortunately, after only a few months in this homey country pub, I found myself moving cities to start a whole new adventure, on the other side of the country, at a university. I couldn't wait. I was so excited to move to a more open-minded and diverse city, where being gay was more common than living on a council estate, and getting drunk with my friends was more common than being punished by teachers.

The big wide world was mine for the taking.

Yet a few months into this new lavish lifestyle, I figured I couldn't afford to sustain it without going back into work. So, being a young adult with no real skills other than knowing how to pour a pint, I set off on a hunt to procure another job within hospitality that could fund my reckless habits.

I soon stumbled across one particular bar who was known relatively well within the city, so I accepted an interview and a trial shift before starting at this quaint little cocktail bar. The people there were incredible, half the managers were gay and I'm pretty sure some of the barmaids were too... but I didn't hang around long enough to find out.

Whilst the people were amazing, the job itself was kind of lame, so I headed to a new bar down the street.

Oh it seemed lavish, just like my lifestyle. I swanned in there in a waistcoat and bow-tie, flaunting my LGBT identity like there was no tomorrow — proud of who I was and so happy to be living in a city where this was not only accepted, but from what I had seen — totally safe. My manager LOVED it, filling our interview with gladly received and much appreciated gay jokes which were not only tactful but absolutely hilarious.

Now, my time at this bar has never been easy. Many a customer has questioned me, tactlessly and drunk, on my gender and sexuality. Usually, I've been able to respond respectfully before swiftly moving on to the next.

However, a few times it has lead to situations where I have not only snapped at customers, but have also had to momentarily leave the building to compose myself over a very shaky cigarette.

I have always been glad that these situations seemed to be limited to interactions with guests; that my co-workers seemed to pay very little attention to my gender identity or sexuality, not because they didn't care but because it didn't affect their views on me as a person or as a worker. That was how I liked it, and how I always thought it would stay. Until a few months back.

Whilst out with a supervisor and another colleague of my mine, my supervisor started to question my gender identity. He asked what I was; a man or a woman and when I said "neither," he told me that was impossible.

He went on to try and "educate" me on how there are only two genders, before coming to the final question, "But what's between your legs?"

Whilst my co-worker attempted to defend me, my supervisor could not be silenced on his opinions, leaving me to become uncomfortable in his presence and causing me to leave. I believed that would be symbolic enough for him to realise not to bring the topic up again. How very wrong I was!

A few nights ago, we were out together again, this time with the entire team. It was a leaving party for one of my best friends, someone who had always supported who I was.

As a self-proclaimed lesbian herself, with a boyfriend, she understood some of my struggles with coming to terms with identity. I was certain the issue would not be raised at such an event. We'd all had an incredible night. Spirits were high, as were our alcohol/blood ratios, and we left the club ready for an after-party.

Things swiftly changed when aforementioned supervisor decided to proclaim, to the entire gathering, completely unprovoked, that my gender identity did not exist. This sent my temper flying sky high.

Despite always being a lover, rather than a fighter, his ignorance and refusal to listen to what I had to say, drove my fist into his face. I was swiftly dragged away by three colleagues, whilst another of my managers told me that if I continued in my aggressive manner towards my supervisor, I would lose my job.

The same manager who had sat with me and made lesbian jokes for half an hour upon our first meeting. The same manager who had told me he would support me. The very same manager who, just a few months before hand, had threatened to remove a group of guests from the premises for their comments towards me.

It's the 21st Century, and still, I'm having to deal with ignorant opinions being thrown in my face, whilst being expected to not react. It's deemed as okay for someone to question the entire existence of the way I identify.

It's seen as normal for me to be asked "what" I am, rather than "who" I am, despite the fact that I'm just a regular human being. And when all of this leads to me questioning how much it may really hurt to jump off a five-story building onto solid concrete, I'm tarnished with the label of "damaged", rather than being asked why.

It makes me wonder whether it will ever get better, for us. For the ones who grew up to realise that they don't fit within boxes. For the ones who are not proud of that. For the ones who are. For every single person who does not yet know and every child yet to go through this exact same realisation.

I wonder if will we ever be seen as human. Or, will we always just be things to glare at in the street?

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