Ruadhán Ó Críodáin: ‘As a trans person, gender recognition has changed my life for the better’
Grand Marshal of this year’s Dublin LGBTQ+ Pride Ruadhán Ó Críodáin talks ten years of Marriage Equality and Gender Recognition in Ireland, the activists and art that inspire him, and the joy of community.
You’ve been advocating for trans rights and the broader LGBTQI+ movement since joining ShoutOut as a volunteer in 2013. How important is advocacy and activism in your daily life?
Advocacy and activism is my 9-5, which is a privilege. I was 19 when I started with ShoutOut and didn’t consider myself an activist, but in hindsight I definitely was. I had an opportunity to volunteer with an LGBTQI+ organisation and to help some friends, so I took it – why wouldn’t you? I enjoyed getting to visit schools and talk to young people about LGBTQI+ stories, being part of something positive in the world.
That same spirit kicked in for me in 2015 during Marriage Equality, and in 2018 with Repeal – which I was even more passionate about. I was committed to being part of a change, and I didn’t want to spend my time doing anything else but working towards those wins.
I’m really lucky in that I’m not alone. My friends and colleagues all dedicate energy to activism – whether that’s Dublin Pride, Palestine demos, canvassing for referendums, or volunteering with ShoutOut. It’s embedded in the fabric of our lives, our cultural activities, and being part of that community makes it seamless.
You’re Grand Marshal of this year’s Dublin LGBTQ+ Pride — tell us about the role and what we can expect from this year’s festivities.
Being Grand Marshall is an honour, it’s a role that’s been held by many people I respect and admire. This year, I’ve been chosen because we’ll be celebrating and marking ten years of Marriage Equality and, crucially, Gender Recognition in Ireland.
As a trans person, gender recognition has changed my life for the better. It gives trans people safety and protections, and the process here in Ireland is taken with dignity and respect for our rights and identity. Gender recognition is under attack in the US, UK, Hungary, and elsewhere. We still don’t have it for young trans people in Ireland or for non-binary people.
As Grand Marshall I want to celebrate gender recognition, but I also want to call attention to those gaps in the law, and other issues for our community, and I want this Pride to be a protest. Ireland has the worst trans healthcare in the EU and the trans students we meet in schools struggle for fairness and protection from bullying.
Trans people are an overlooked community in many ways, but our lesbian, gay, bi and queer siblings show us so much solidarity and allyship. At Pride this year, I’ll be marching with ShoutOut at the front and we’ll be focusing on that allyship, and reminding people that our whole community stands together – that there is no LGB without the T.
What has been the highlight of your career so far?
I think being Grand Marshall and marching with so many of our ShoutOut volunteers is going to be pretty hard to beat!
You’ve been working at Shout Out for over six years now, give us a little background into what it is that you do.
ShoutOut works to create an Ireland where every LGBTQI+ person can fully and proudly be themselves – in their school, community, or workplace. We do this by providing education, empowering allyship of all kinds, and most importantly, by sparking empathy for LGBTQI+ lives.
We provide educational workshops and storytelling sessions to students in schools across Ireland – offering a lifeline to LGBTQI+ youth through visibility and role modelling, and encouraging their peers to be confident allies against bullying and exclusion. We’ve reached over 84,000 young people to date, and we deliver this work in every county across Ireland, so that no young person is left isolated.
We provide educational materials and support where students are most in need – this year we brought out a resource on LGBTQI+ identities and religion in response to student questions, and last year we made a beautiful publication of queer voices on mental health and resilience. Our focus is on ensuring diversity of representation across the community – ensuring trans and non-binary, intersex, asexual, and intersectional voices are included. We provide training and policy support to teachers and school staff to ensure the work has lasting impact.
We bring this work further into communities through GAA clubs, parish halls, and community organisations across the country – holding conversations, answering questions, and trying to build and repair bridges across communities. We believe that storytelling, education, and empathy can tackle the divisions we see across our communities. We also deliver educational programmes in workplaces to make them inclusive, and support parents and guardians who want to know how to support their kids.
Finally, we work alongside other LGBTQI+ organisations to tackle issues like trans healthcare, domestic violence, and hate crime, at a national level, and in coalition with communities of all kinds.
What is the best part of your job?
The young people we meet in schools across the country who are determined to look after their LGBTQI+ friends, and those brave LGBTQI+ young people who’ve come out to their classmates and families. They don’t have it easy, but I look forward to the world being in their hands – they’ll do brilliant things with it.
Who is someone you look up to in the world of Irish activism?
I’m going to be bold and name a few people. Ailbhe Smyth is a hero, friend and colleague of mine who I’ve looked up to for the past ten years of Marriage Equality and Repeal. Everything she does is intersectional – her feminism is inclusive of migrants, working class communities, and especially trans people. She’s a model of how you can build those bridges across differences while working for change.
Within the LGBTQI+ sector, I’ve learned a huge amount from working with Paula Fagan, who will step down as CEO of LGBT Ireland this year and has been another bridge-builder and supportive colleague who’s achieved so much in her role – she’s amazing.
Lynn Ruane is another person who I’ve learned so much from. She has the most incredible ideas for how we can do better on issues like the justice system, addiction and recovery, grounded in the needs of her community. If every politician had her integrity and originality we’d be doing a lot better.
Finally, Dr Lydia Foy, who fought a lonely legal battle for over 20 years to have her gender legally recognised, and in doing so, made that possible for me and so many other trans people in Ireland. Thank you, Lydia.
What is one thing you wish everyone knew about being an activist?
It’s a long road to equality, and there will always be setbacks. Be patient, give yourself space and time, and take breaks from activism if you need to. There will always be someone to help you, and we will get there eventually. The ultimate goal is to be able to retire and hang up your protest signs, but that doesn’t often happen – be ready to play the long game.
What is one piece of advice or learning you would give to someone interested in LGBTQ+ inclusive education?
Get involved with ShoutOut! We are always looking for volunteers, and there are so many ways to do so. You can give workshops in schools, create educational resources, or join us on research projects. Also, collaborate. We connect with groups across the country doing beautiful work – like Children’s Books Ireland or the library services, and we’re always excited to make a new project together.
Ruadhán Ó Críodáin’s life in culture
The last thing I saw and loved… was the Leigh Bowery exhibition in the Tate Modern in London. Leigh lived a flamboyant and outrageous life but it’s the quiet moments in that exhibition that stand out – the letter about his mother watching his performances full of shame, or what he said about grieving his best friend Trojan when he died from AIDS: “He was still so alive in my head. It’s the small things – like if someone were to put different weights in my hand, I’d be able to say which one was the weight of his hand.”
The book I keep coming back to… Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg – devastating, essential, and inspiring. Leslie Feinberg was a poet, writer and activist full of wisdom and inspiration. Zie was ahead of hir time and of ours – dreaming of liberation for queer people, trans people, workers and Palestinians.
I find inspiration in… the explosion of cultural scenes in Ireland right now. Irish music has maybe never been so diverse or so strong (though I’d love to hear more women and queer people on our airwaves), and queer culture is blossoming too. We have a trans punk scene, trans poetry scenes, and even a trans film festival, TITE – which started at the Light House this April. We also have a film festival for queer folks of colour, Queer Spectrum Film Festival, which is really special.
My favourite film is… Muriel’s Wedding – it’s funny, it’s heartbreaking, it’s Toni Collette, and it probably made me gay.
The song I listen to to get in the zone is… Know Yourself, off Kae Tempest’s upcoming album. Kae’s making a statement about trans power and identity in the face of brutal transphobic policies in the UK and their work truly makes me feel proud.
The last (book/film/show/piece of work/artist etc.) I recommended is… Love in Exile by Shon Faye. It’s about love, religion, family, and transness, and Shon is insightful and generous on all of those issues.
I never leave the house without… my bike! Cycling in Dublin is terrifying but it makes me so happy flying around the city I love.
The film/performance/piece of work etc. I still think about is… the Irish AIDS Quilt. Each panel is stitched for an Irish person lost to AIDS – lots of queer people, but also drug users and haemophiliacs. It was established by an incredible woman called Mary Shannon who made the first panel for her friend Joseph Carthy and covered it in symbols of everything he loved. Mary was a hero – she created the quilt but also cared for many people with AIDS through the Dublin AIDS Alliance.
Making the panels allowed quilters to grieve their loved ones, and the quilt’s existence means we can still remember and learn about each of these people’s stories. Some people can only be remembered by first names or letters because their queerness was a secret. The quilt is a work of art and it always makes me cry, but it’s full of pure love.
My dream job would be… I’ve got it! Running ShoutOut with the best team in the world. It’s a privilege and I don’t take it for granted.
The best advice I’ve ever gotten… to ask for help. Personal help, professional help, big jobs and small. People are kind, people are generous, and people are often pretty grateful to be asked. We can’t win on our own – ask for help and return every favour that you can!
The art (book/film/performance/show etc.) that means the most to me is… the art of David Wojnarowicz and Peter Hujar changed my life. David was an artist and activist in New York in the 1980s. He lost friends and lovers to AIDS, and he documented that time through photography, collage, and writing. His lover, Peter Hujar, was a brilliant photographer documenting that same community, and one of David’s most striking works is a series of photos of Hujar’s body shortly after death. It’s tender and devastating, and shows you the brutal outcome of state homophobia and neglect.
David’s art is unapologetic, and furious. People with AIDS at that time were abandoned by their governments. There was no research, no education, no support – only shame and stigma. David’s art doesn’t let you look away – he reminds you that his community is rooted in love and passion, and demands accountability from those who left them to die.
That anger came from a desperation to survive, to save his friends, and to fight homophobia. I discovered his work after the Repeal referendum, when I was feeling glad of our win, but still devastated by the women we lost to cruel laws, like Savita Halappanavar. That art has also meant a lot to me when I’ve struggled with the transphobia we’re seeing around the world, and the abandonment of trans people in healthcare in Ireland. Trans people have been lost to suicide in this country, on waiting lists for healthcare, and it’s unforgivable. Trans people have a right to healthcare, and to equality, and we have a right to be angry, to want better for ourselves and those we love.
The most challenging thing about my job is… some of the pushback to LGBTQI+ inclusive education, trans-inclusive education, and trans rights more generally. LGBTQI+ organisations have faced cruel and frightening attacks from a small section of society in recent years that have made it difficult to do our work. There’s been a lot of resistance to LGBTQI+ visibility in schools and libraries, to the new RSE curriculum, and trans people have been especially targeted.
LGBTQI+ organisations don’t have any kind of agenda – our community has faced years of discrimination and bullying, and we don’t want that for the next generation of our young people. We’re trying to help them access the education they need, in their schools and with their teachers, and to give them the visibility we wanted when we were young.
If I wasn’t working with ShoutOut, I would be… working in film – but I’m lucky to be involved as a board member with GAZE LGBTQIA+ Film Festival, this August bank holiday weekend!
The magic of activism to me is… the people I work with. I’m part of a huge, inter-connected community of LGBTQI+ activists in Dublin, Ireland, Europe, and the wider world, and we laugh, cry, and struggle together. And as queer people, we make sure to squeeze in plenty of laughs. We support each other and that energy keeps us going.
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