Following the ousting of Darleen Dana, the Green Party have made history as Benjamin Doyle, our parliament’s first openly non-binary MP, has stepped up. They talk to YOUR ex about everyday transphobia in parliament and standing up for Te Tiriti.
What does being our first openly non-binary MP mean to you?
Firstly, I think it’s important to acknowledge that non-binary and gender expansive people have existed mai rā anō (from the beginning of time), which includes in politics. In the past, people may not have had the language or safety to openly identify or express that part of their identity freely. So, while I am the first openly non-binary MP, I know that the reality is I am one of many in a whakapapa who have come before and who will come after, which is a massive honour and privilege.
It also means that I feel a sense of responsibility to amplify the voices of our communities, to listen to those who otherwise don’t have an ear in parliament, and to speak truth to systems of power that actively and violently threaten the safety and rights of takatāpui, irawhiti and rainbow communities.
On a granular level, being the ‘first’ of anything means you inevitable have to deal with a certain level of ignorance, resistance or confusion. I do a lot of explaining – like my pronouns, my gender expression, how to de-gender things that are unnecessarily binary or gendered – which I don’t really mind to an extent, but I don’t want it to occupy all my time. There’s a lot of important stuff to do and to fight for in parliament!
Queer left-wing politicians seem to receive unprecedented amounts of hate and vitriol. How will you deal with that?
I avoid consuming hateful or regressive correspondence, which actually helps a lot (though sometimes I’ll have a laugh at some of the more bizarre messages I receive!). I also find reminding myself that sometimes people who are hateful or angry are deeply hurt or troubled themselves, and though it certainly doesn’t excuse anything, it helps me to practise some empathy (or at the very least understand why they act in those ways).
Another massive protective factor is the safe relationships I hold with whānau, friends and community. Holding a protective boundary around those relationships with loved ones means I have a place to go, away from the world of politics, where I can just exist as I am. Radical love and connection is so much more powerful than hate.
“Radical love and connection is so much more powerful than hate.”
If a fellow MP is unwilling to address you with ‘they/them’ pronouns, how would you react?
I would be lying if I said this doesn’t happen at all, but someone totally unwilling to use my correct pronouns at all (as opposed to just genuinely not knowing or making a mistake) has been pretty rare so far. As I said in my maiden speech, “If my pronouns confuse you, here’s a tip: just use my name,” which seems to be a pretty helpful directive for the pronoun-adverse.
Ultimately, someone refusing to accept my identity is a reflection on their limited capacity for love and imagination, and while that’s hurtful or frustrating for me, it’s actually even sadder for them. And If I want to be a brat, I’ll just keep correcting them, which doesn’t bother me because it just disrupts their flow of conversation.
Aotearoa led the world by electing Georgina Beyer, the first transgender member of parliament, in 1999. Why do you think, 25 years on, we haven’t had another?
Tuatahi, he mihi aroha ki tō tātou pou takatāpui, ko whaea Georgina. Moe mai rā e te rangatira. Transphobia is still an insidious and ubiquitous reality in politics. This government is zealously stripping away the (already limited and hard-fought) rights and protections for trans folks, as we speak. It is unsurprising that members of our community don’t want to enter that arena and subject themselves and their people to that violence. I’m not exaggerating when I say I witness transphobia every day in parliament.
When a system is not set up with, by, or for your community – be that trans, queer, Māori, disabled, poor, migrant – it becomes incredibly difficult to participate, navigate or experience success within that system. To be clear, there is no shortage of incredible trans and non-binary leaders who would be unstoppable in parliament, but being an MP is also not the only place to affect change, and I imagine many of our gender expansive leaders choose to do that in other, less colonial, and cis-heteronormative contexts.
ACT’s Treaty Principles Bill and its opposition have been grabbing a lot of headlines lately. Why do you believe that it’s important for all queer communities to oppose this bill?
Importantly, Te Tiriti o Waitangi not only reaffirms the rights of Māori to exercise Tino Rangatiratanga, but it also provides a legitimate basis for non-Māori to live in Aotearoa. More specifically, as queer communities, we have to recognise the interconnection of all forms of oppression. Where there is colonialism, there is homophobia. Where there is racism, there is transphobia. It’s all connected, because ultimately these forms of oppression are upholding the power systems that negatively affect all of us.
It’s also essential to recognise the intersections of our communities. Takatāpui experience the harm of both homophobia and colonisation, so as rainbow people we need to stand and fight in solidarity with all parts of our community, not just the ones that we belong to. No one is free until everyone is free. Toitū Te Tiriti!
