Older Queer Voices

Why our stories matter more than ever.

At Coin Street , we believe communities grow stronger when people have the opportunity to share their stories. Following the Older Queer Voices Roundtable hosted at Coin Street, Communications and Media Manager Keith Winestein reflects on why preserving lived experience matters, what storytelling can teach us about community, and why passing knowledge between generations has never been more important.

There are moments when you realise you are no longer simply witnessing history; you have become part of it. Hosting the second Older Queer Voices Roundtable at Coin Street was one of those moments for me.

On behalf of our small but perfectly formed LGBTQI+ Staff Group, it was a privilege to welcome a distinguished gathering of community leaders, activists and campaigners to the Max Nasatyr Conference Suite. Founded by Raga D’Silva and Nicola Fenton, and chaired by Joseph Galliano-Doig MBE, Older Queer Voices brings together people whose lives and work have helped shape LGBTQ+ history in Britain. Having been fortunate enough to take part in the first roundtable at the Houses of Parliament earlier this year, it felt particularly fitting that Coin Street could provide a home for this second conversation.

Coin Street has always understood the importance of bringing people together and creating places where different voices can be heard. Older Queer Voices reflects that belief. It creates an opportunity not simply to look back, but to listen, learn and consider how the experiences of one generation can help inform and strengthen the next.

The event followed a deeply moving community vigil in Soho Square the previous evening, where many had gathered in solidarity with Berlin’s LGBTQ+ community following the distressing incident at Berlin Pride. It was sombre and deeply affecting, but it was also a powerful reminder that, wherever prejudice and hatred appear, our community continues to respond with compassion, resilience and solidarity.

One of the highlights of the afternoon was hearing Chris, Lord Smith speak. He was serving as a Labour MP and Shadow Cabinet member when Section 28 became law in 1988. Having become the first British MP to choose to come out publicly in 1984, and later the world’s first openly HIV-positive parliamentarian, he has lived through some of the defining moments of modern LGBTQ+ history. Today, as Chancellor of the University of Cambridge and Patron of the National AIDS Trust, his reflections carried both historical weight and personal honesty.

Listening to Chris took me back. Section 28 did not simply prohibit the so-called “promotion” of homosexuality. It created a culture of fear that silenced teachers, intimidated local authorities and denied millions of young people the education, support and representation they deserved. Its effects reached far beyond the wording of the legislation and continued long after its repeal.

For me, however, it had an unexpected consequence. Rather than forcing me back into the closet, it strengthened my determination to live openly. I came out to my parents in 1984, and by 1986 I was with the man I believed I would spend the rest of my life with. At the same time, HIV and AIDS were devastating our community, and I was far more frightened of the virus than I was of a law designed to erase my existence.

Instead of retreating, I became involved with Frontliners, a self-help voluntary organisation supporting people affected by HIV and AIDS. I even joined a gay self-defence group called Survive the Streets. My determination was simple: I wanted not merely to survive, but to thrive, contribute and live authentically. Looking back now, I can see how strongly those early experiences shaped the rest of my life and career.

They eventually led me into communications, campaigning and advocacy across HIV, mental health, volunteering and community development. Although the organisations, campaigns and causes changed over the years, the thread running through my work remained the same: helping people whose voices were too often ignored or marginalised to be heard.

One message echoed throughout the roundtable: we cannot afford to become complacent. Both Michael, Lord Cashman and Peter Tatchell spoke about the continuing struggle for equality and reminded us that rights achieved through decades of courage, sacrifice and persistence can never simply be taken for granted. History shows us that progress is rarely a straight line. It moves forwards, it stalls and, at times, determined efforts are made to drag it backwards.

We continue to see LGBTQ+ communities facing discrimination, misinformation and hostility, both internationally and here in the UK. Our trans brothers and sisters are increasingly being subjected to language, vilification and scapegoating that will feel painfully familiar to many gay men and lesbians who lived through earlier decades. That is why vigilance still matters, and why creating places where people can come together, speak honestly and build understanding across generations remains so important.

As I have grown older, I have come to realise that storytelling is probably my greatest strength. Stories preserve our history, create empathy and remind us that behind every Act of Parliament, every campaign, every headline and every protest are real people whose lives have been changed forever. Perhaps most importantly, they allow us to pass the baton, ensuring that younger generations understand not only what happened, but why it mattered and whose courage helped make today’s freedoms possible.

The next generation deserves more than a sanitised version of LGBTQ+ history. They deserve to understand the courage, setbacks, friendships, grief, activism and joy that brought us to where we are today. They deserve to know whose shoulders they are standing on, while also recognising that their own voices and experiences will shape what comes next.

This matters not only for LGBTQ+ history but for communities everywhere. Every neighbourhood has stories that deserve to be remembered, and every generation has experiences worth sharing. At Coin Street, we see this through our work with residents, young people, older people, volunteers and community partners. Whether we are preserving local heritage, celebrating community activism or creating opportunities for people to connect, stories help us understand both the places we live in and the people who have shaped them.

That is why events such as Older Queer Voices matter. They create space for conversations that can be challenging, inspiring and deeply personal. They remind us that history is not confined to books, records or archives; it lives within people. Unless those people are given opportunities to share their memories and lived experience, an important part of our collective history risks being lost.

My heartfelt thanks go to Raga D’Silva, Nicola Fenton and Joseph Galliano-Doig MBE for creating Older Queer Voices and for bringing the second roundtable to Coin Street. My thanks also go to Chris, Lord Smith, Michael, Lord Cashman and Peter Tatchell, each of whom has influenced my own journey in different ways. At times when I was still finding the confidence to raise my own voice, they were already standing on the front line and fighting for all of us.

Today, after more than forty years working across HIV, mental health, volunteering, communications and equality, I feel ready to embrace being one of those Older Queer Voices. My story is not unique, but it is one of thousands that deserve to be remembered. Together, those stories form a history that is far richer, more complicated and more inspiring than any textbook or official record could ever convey.

I hope Coin Street will continue to create opportunities for people to share their experiences, celebrate difference and learn from one another. Stories do more than preserve history: they build understanding, strengthen communities and help shape the future.