Quarterly Essay 67 Moral Panic 101 by Benjamin Law

Quarterly Essay 67 Moral Panic 101 by Benjamin Law

Author:Benjamin Law [Law, Benjamin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781863959513
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Black Inc.
Published: 2017-09-09T00:00:00+00:00


THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT

It’s Friday afternoon in St Kilda, the sun’s setting over Port Phillip Bay and ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” is pumping out of the town hall so loudly it can be heard for blocks. Strangers waiting to cross at the lights grin at each other as they bathe in the song; ABBA has that effect on people. “Dancing Queen” has always been cheesy, but something about it now – how it’s made slightly muffled and dreamy by distance – makes it sound like both a rousing anthem and siren song. That line about being young, sweet and seventeen – it’s hard to think of a better welcoming track for the teenagers walking towards the music and their queer formal.

Minus18’s annual formal is seven years old now, originally created – in part – for kids who couldn’t bring their same-sex partners to their own school dance. It’s so popular now that it’s hit capacity. Bigger crowds means bigger venues (which means more expensive tickets), and organisers aren’t willing to pass that cost onto teenagers just yet. Instead, the formal – an annual event in Melbourne and Adelaide – plans to expand to other cities. In fact, it would be in every capital city already if a major financial institution hadn’t pulled funding at the height of the Safe Schools controversy.

Demand for the event grows not because kids are somehow getting gayer or more transgender (if you even believe that’s somehow possible), but because they’re increasingly confident and comfortable in their own skin. Some adults, though, would prefer those teenagers remain uncomfortable for the sake of their comfort. In 2016 an anti–Safe Schools group tried sabotaging the event by rallying supporters to buy early-bird tickets so teenagers would arrive to an empty hall. Disgusted, queer adults across Australia started buying full-priced tickets in droves to sponsor teenagers so they could get in for free.

Some of those adults are here now, greeting kids on the landing of town hall dressed as angels, forming what’s part protective phalanx and part welcoming committee. Each of the angels’ wings and scarves are in different colours so that, side by side, they form a rainbow. As they pass the angels, the young people grin, so many of them a human showcase of excellent hair: afros and bouffants; braids and barber-sharp fades; quiffs dyed in colours that only exist outside of nature.

Inside, the mood is giddy and wholesome. The drug of choice is sugar. Kids fill bags from a lolly buffet to their hearts’ content, while slushy machines serve all-you-can-drink frozen mocktails. There’s an epic line for the free photo booth complete with props (speech bubbles, fake moustaches, a giant magnet that says “hottie magnet”), while another table offers free stickers with slogans like “Discrimination Free Zone,” “Some People are Trans” and “Some Girls Like Girls.” One placard simply says, “We’re glad you exist.” It strikes me as both heartening and sad that this is being pointed out.

As everyone settles down at tables, Martin Foley addresses us from the lectern like an earnest, encouraging dad.



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