Nightlife as a Lifeline
How one UK techno club is fostering a community of care for its trans clientele
Amidst widespread stigma, violence, political discrimination, and long waiting lists at the NHS for gender-affirming care, it can be difficult to thrive as one of the 262,000 transgender people living in England and Wales.
“Everybody seems to have an opinion about us, but no one is prepared to listen,” jane fae, director at TransActual and author of Transition Denied, told me over Zoom. “An awful lot of trans people are running out of spoons.”
To cope with the daily realities of transphobia in the home, school, hospital, and workplace, many trans individuals seek solace in alternative spaces. One UK institution in particular—FOLD, London’s top techno club—is taking steps to make sure their trans clientele feel particularly welcome and supported. In a volunteer initiative with the trans rights organization TransActual, posters are visible on the walls raising awareness and providing resources for trans club-goers. Moreover, FOLD’s diverse welfare team is educated about the multifaceted issues facing trans people today, including increased risk of mental health struggles and substance abuse.
In a time when anti-trans rhetoric is reported almost daily, safe spaces for trans people are needed now more than ever. “It’s fun to go out. It’s fun to get dressed up, to have some fucking power in this world. It’s empowering us,” said Seba, a member of FOLD’s welfare team. “Queer people need to look out for each other.”
In the United Kingdom, trans people face a host of obstacles to living their authentic lives. According to a 2017 study, 41% of transgender individuals reported experiencing a hate crime or incident due to their gender identity within the past year, and 81% of those within the LGBTQ+ community who experienced such crimes did not report them. Cis-heteronormative expectations and childhood shame among trans individuals may persist into adulthood, often leading to depression, substance abuse, sex addiction, and body image concerns. Many turn to club scenes as a way to escape.
“An awful lot of trans people are running out of spoons.”
Beyond everyday violence and stigma, there is a constant obsession with ‘trans-ness’ in the British media, spurring highly publicized debates. Conservative politicians, like former PM Liz Truss, seek to remove trans rights, such as access to their preferred bathroom. Even mainstream celebrities like J.K. Rowling have thrown their cap in the ring.
This transphobia is echoed in the British healthcare system. Time and time again, top medical professionals have claimed that young people shouldn’t receive gender-affirming care because they may grow to regret it. However, in the UK, patient surveys indicate that treatments for conditions like prostate cancer and abortion are associated with higher levels of regret compared to transition procedures. Transitioning remains one of the procedures with the lowest levels of regret within the NHS today.
Still, the waiting list to receive gender-affirming care in the NHS (i.e. estrogen, testosterone, and top/bottom surgery) can be several years long. To add insult to injury, the recent Cass Review concluded that the NHS will no longer offer puberty blockers—drugs that temporarily pause the physical changes that occur during puberty—except to those enrolled in client research. Last week, leading consultant pediatrician Dr. Hilary Cass stated that gender medicine for young people is built on “shaky foundations,” despite puberty blockers being used for over 40 years to treat children experiencing precocious puberty, for example.
Author and TransActual director jane fae was outraged by the report, saying that Cass’s findings were both true and completely irrelevant. “She’s right, the research doesn’t reach scientific standards,” fae said. “Nothing does!” Fae explained that in the UK, it's common for many drugs, especially those prescribed to pregnant women and children, to be used off-label due to the limited testing conducted specifically on these populations—“Where’s the media outcry about that?”
She went on to rationalize that it would be impossible to run double-blind testing on puberty blockers or HRT (hormone replacement therapy). Doing so presents ethical challenges due to the potential harm of withholding treatment. Additionally, observable physical changes induced by hormones, such as increased body hair, render the double-blind test ineffective.
In preventing young people from accessing reversible puberty blockers, the NHS is purposefully making it difficult for trans people to fully transition later in life, contributing to their gender dysphoria. “[The Cass Report] is basically research by the government attempting to do something about trans people, and presto, they get the result they wanted,” fae said.
For decades, discothèques have served as hubs for marginalized members of society as a way to escape the oppressive world around them. Rooted in Black and queer culture, dance music emerged from 1970s disco, Chicago house, and Detroit techno, with rave spaces fostering a sense of unity where race, gender, and sexuality dissolved into a shared collective experience. These spaces allowed people to dance and simply exist without fear of judgment or harassment. As musical genres evolved into modern techno and EDM, the spirit of self-expression and community endured. The freedom within these spaces remains essential to trans resilience. Yet, between 2006 and 2018, the number of LGBTQ+ nightclub venues decreased by 58%. This significant decline poses a threat to the well-being of the trans community.
Several alternative spaces have already begun incorporating holistic care into partying. Gender-neutral bathrooms have become ubiquitous. Posters outside of club doors outline clear rules of respect and consent. “Ask for Angela” signs in most bars allow partygoers to covertly signal to bartenders if they are being harassed. But there aren’t as many strategies aimed specifically at supporting trans folks.
One community initiative is being spearheaded at FOLD, East London’s most popular techno club. The club is partly queer-owned and brands itself as an ‘artist-led, community-driven nightclub and arts space striving to be a safe space for our predominantly queer community.’ For Trans Day of Visibility in 2023, a team member from FOLD reached out to a volunteer working at the community interest company TransActual (where fae is a director). Together, they teamed up to create a set of large posters that would decorate one of the club’s inner walls, near a seating area. These posters included information about the NHS, bridging prescriptions, changing one’s legal name, and online support forums.
London’s top techno club, FOLD
The posters remain on the walls to this day. As club-goers drift in and out of FOLD’s various spaces, moving between dancing and chatting with their friends, they can absorb information about the tricky medical and legal processes associated with transitioning, and be pointed toward support groups.
“Whether it’s effective, we don’t know,” fae admitted when I asked her about the posters. “But it’s good. It’s important to have this visibility. It shows we’re out there, and that’s something [TransActual] wants to do. If we weren’t so tied up in addressing what the government is doing, we would be doing a lot more of it.”
Seba, part of FOLD’s welfare team, also appreciates the initiative at FOLD. “We have the opportunity to educate some people, even at straight events,” they explained.
Beyond the posters, FOLD’s welfare team is on the clock 24/7 to help club-goers who may be in trouble. If they spot someone who’s feeling unwell, they’ll bring them inside a safe room, give them water or a banana, sit down with them, and have a conversation with them.
Though FOLD is intolerant towards drug use, inevitably drugs will be used inside club spaces. With high rates of drug use inside raves—including the dangerous substance gammahydroxybutrate (GHB), often used in ‘chemsex’—it’s paramount for FOLD’s welfare team to be trained on harm reduction, especially when it comes to minority communities. This includes providing resources and support tailored to the unique needs of these groups, ensuring their safety and well-being while partying.
“We give people breaks for G-ing out,” Seba said, referring to the misuse of GHB. “You’ll be banned for two, four, or six months. Because you’re damaging yourself for continually coming to these spaces and doing this.” However, Seba went on to explain the challenge associated with kicking queer people out for drug-related reasons: “If you take them out of the space where they’re doing it communally, are they gonna take that privately in an unsafe way?”
“If you take them out of the space where they’re doing it communally, are they gonna take that privately in an unsafe way?”
Challenges like this emphasize the importance of having a racially diverse, primarily queer, and well-educated welfare team at techno events. This setup ensures that individuals at risk can be safely intervened, engaged in dialogue, and provided with necessary assistance, without isolating them. “We’re trying to have conversations with people that are, like, connected to them,” Seba told me. “Queer people need to look out for each other.”
Luckily, Seba said, there are plenty within the queer community who use drugs and rave spaces in a healthy way—to connect with their community, express themselves, and interact with their bodies in a different way. “It’s empowering us,” Seba said.
Institutions like FOLD not only offer a sanctuary for expression and celebration but also play a vital role in educating and uniting people, queer and cis-het alike. These spaces, and the efforts of those like fae and Seba, are indispensable for trans individuals to not just survive but thrive. While the road may be fraught with obstacles—pervasive transphobia, reduced access to critical healthcare—community initiatives like this can pave significant inroads toward acceptance and understanding.
As trans scholar McKenzie Wark writes about raving: “To exist inside those beats is like hacking into a new brain, one that doesn’t hate my body, that can run on the DJ’s track and not the track of my anxiety, that allows my body to be a fucking body… Now it seems we take refuge in the rave, a fragment of spectacle, reduced to an almost contentless form, refuge from history.”