Working With Us, Not On Us

Why This Resource Exists

“Inclusive practice” has lost its meaning. It often shows up in rainbow logos, drop-down menus, or Pride Month statements but rarely reaches the people it’s meant to support.

For many LGBTIQA+ people—especially those who are trans, racialised, disabled, neurodivergent, working class, or survivors of institutional harm—inclusion does not mean safety. It does not mean being believed. It does not guarantee support to heal.

This guide is not about being nice. It is not about adding pronouns to your email signature or updating your forms. It is about the real, ongoing work of making your language, presence, and practice safer, sharper, and more accountable.

If you are a mental health worker, GP, social worker, educator, peer worker, or community practitioner, this guide is for you. It invites you to move beyond performance and into integrity. To work with us, not on us.

Foundational Principles of Affirming Practice

1. Affirmation Without Assumption

Affirming queer people starts with listening. Do not assume who someone is based on their appearance, voice, body, or history. Let clients tell you who they are.

2. Language Should Follow the Client

Mirror the language your client uses. If someone calls themselves a dyke, say dyke. If they say they are gender non-conforming, don’t translate that to non-binary unless they do. Do not adjust identity language to make it more palatable.

3. Context Always Matters

Language shifts depending on who is using it and how. “Chosen family” might feel safe to one person and traumatic to another. “Poly” might be liberating or it might mask coercion. Don’t assume shared meanings. Ask what it means to them.

4. Pronouns Are Not the End Point

Asking for pronouns is just a beginning. Consider how your service reinforces gender binaries—through forms, bathrooms, or staff culture. Inclusion that does not address systems is only surface-level.

5. LGBTIQA+ Is Not One Experience

Being queer is not a single identity. Queer people live at the intersection of race, class, culture, disability, neurodivergence, migration, trauma, and systemic harm. If your work doesn’t reflect this, it is not affirming. It is exclusion wearing a friendly mask.

Inclusive Language in Practice

Inclusive language is not about using the latest terms. It is about choosing words that reduce harm and show that you are paying attention to power.

Here are some key shifts to consider:

Instead of...Say...“She identifies as non-binary.”“They are non-binary.”“Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend?”“Are you in any relationships you'd like to share with me?”“What was your birth gender?”“What language do you use for your gender, and what’s helpful for me to know?”“Everyone is welcome here.”“We actively work to make this a safe space for queer, trans, and non-binary people, including those often left out of services.”

Language Is Not Enough

Even the best language means little if your practice still causes harm.

Clients are watching how you:

• Explain consent and confidentiality

• React when they speak about trauma, identity, or their bodies

• Hold space for silence, grief, contradiction, or anger

• Use your own authority in the room

• Respond when discomfort arises

• Speak about other queer people

• Manage power when it is challenged

It is not just about what you say. It is about how you respond to what is said to you.

What Queer Clients May Be Navigating Silently

Even before your session begins, a client may be asking themselves:

• Will this person assume I’m exaggerating?

• Will they use my name and pronouns when I’m not there?

• Will they understand that community harm can feel just like family violence?

• Will I have to educate them just to be believed?

• Will they report me for something I say?

• Will they understand that my abuser is also a survivor?

• Will they see how systems have hurt me, or only how I’ve survived?

Being inclusive means making space for this complexity. Not simplifying it for your comfort.

What Real Affirming Practice Looks Like

1. Trauma-Informed

Queer people carry individual and collective trauma—rejection, erasure, violence, pathologisation. Do not assume safety. Go slow. Ask before offering touch, interpretation, or reflection. Allow silence. Let the client lead.

2. Accountable

You will make mistakes. When you do, name them. Apologise. Repair what you can. Do not collapse into guilt or centre your feelings. Let the client guide what repair looks like and commit to doing better next time.

3. Consent-Based

Get consent for everything. Note-taking, sharing information, shifting plans, touching, or reframing. Respect “no,” “not yet,” or “I’m not sure.” Consent is ongoing and relational.

4. Aware of Systemic Harm

Systems like police, courts, and hospitals are not safe for everyone. Do not push clients to report or disclose if it increases their risk. Support them in choosing what works for their context, not what feels right to you.

5. Able to Hold Contradiction

Clients may love people who have harmed them. They may be unsure whether what happened was abuse. They may have used harm themselves. Honour their process. Let things be complex without needing to resolve or diagnose it.

Being Queer Doesn’t Make You Safe

If you are a queer practitioner, your lived experience matters. But it does not automatically make you safer for queer clients.

You are still responsible for:

• Not assuming shared values or language

• Not over-identifying with clients

• Maintaining professional boundaries

• Acknowledging your own biases

• Doing your own work outside the room

Being queer does not mean being immune to power. Safety is created through your choices, your tone, your boundaries, and your willingness to be accountable.

What Not to Do

• Don’t rely on buzzwords. Terms like “trauma-informed,” “inclusive,” or “neurodivergent-affirming” mean nothing unless they show up in how you behave.

• Don’t perform your politics. Clients can feel when your language is performative, hollow, or disconnected from presence.

• Don’t demand disclosure. No one owes you their trauma story. Let people share what they want, when they are ready.

• Don’t ask clients to speak for “the queer experience.” Identity is personal, not educational content.

• Don’t centre your discomfort. If you are corrected, stay open. That moment is not about your shame. It is about the client’s safety.

You Don’t Have to Be Perfect. But You Do Need to Be Real.

Affirming queer clients is not about mastering the right words. It is about showing up with humility, curiosity, and care.

It means:

• Slowing down

• Asking better questions

• Taking up less space

• Being okay with not knowing

• Accepting that you will be challenged

Queer clients are not here to test your allyship. We are not here to make you feel capable or clever. We are here because we deserve safety, complexity, and respect.

That is the work. That is the practice.