Cambridge students are good at amplifying queerness, but there are certainly some voices in the community that are more hidden than others. Surely, we can ask for more, and we find it sometimes: Whore Moans, or Butchsoc cabaret have been some of the most genuine and comfortable spaces I have ever been in, at Cambridge or otherwise, but these events are one-offs, or difficult to hear about if you are not already involved in communities and social networks to tell you about them.
The other option, then, for queer events, is to happen inside college spaces. Again, this runs into the problem of college management, whose intentions in organising these spaces do not prioritise queer people and their voices to the same degree as student event committees do. While we are so lucky to have the physical space of Bunker, and many college officials who truly share our aims and values, it is hard to run it with genuine priority to the queer, femme and POC voices, especially when subject to stringent regulation from college officials who have been known to publicly express transphobic and racist views.
All of that being said, though, I would never give up Bunker. I have absolutely nothing to prove to any of the committee members, and we have such a spirit of collaboration, mutual celebration and support. Creative expression is such a core part of how I learnt to voice my queerness, and Bunker has not only allowed this, but also challenged me to learn to boldly articulate and verbally negotiate our space, which is an essential growing experience for almost all queer people now and forever.
Something as simple as being given a room and some paints and complete creative freedom over the walls is like being allowed to take a massive breath in and exhale. That skinny, poorly ventilated room with no natural light feels like the widest freedom in physical space I have ever found, and I can hold the key!
Bunker is definitely a way of making my voice as a queer person heard. My favourite thing about Bunker is how silly it is! I am so bored of how seriously Cambridge takes itself. Not all queer spaces need to be highly academicized and pretentious. So much of queer joy is the ability to let yourself go, without worrying about being palatable to your surrounding community.
