Paula Fagan: 'The marriage referendum was healing, being a fair and just society is good for everyone'
Hearing people talk about getting married, I knew deep down it wasn't going to be me, not that I knew about attraction. By my early teens I had my first crush on a girl — I knew then for sure.
But I also knew not to say anything. There was a lot of overt homophobia in those years.
I knew who I was, and that it wasn't safe to say it. Later, working on the LGBT helpline, I've seen people hate it in themselves — I didn't. I always accepted it in myself, but was wise enough to know it wasn't safe to say.
When I was 12, walking through a Drogheda shopping centre, there was a shop selling tellies.
Through the window you could see Wimbledon on, Martina Navratilova playing. Two older women were standing nearby, talking in a very derogatory way — Navratilova had come out by then — sneering comments, about how she looked, her sexuality.
I remember thinking, 'oh God! That's what they'd think of me if I said anything'.
At 16, I worked in a wholesale electrical company, a lot of male staff, most who came in were tradesmen, electricians.
One woman would come in, she was out as lesbian. The slagging after she was in: homophobic jokes, how butch she was. She was the first really out person I'd met in real life… She took her own life – maybe she had other stuff going on.
Very chilling when I was 16. That chill factor you absorb when the norms are a certain way.
I found it all hard to shake when I wanted to come out. Only when I moved to Dublin, worked in a progressive organisation, did I feel able to come out, start living an authentic life.
The passing of the marriage referendum was definitely healing. My partner, Denise, and I had been involved in the Marriage Equality campaign since 2006.
We also volunteered with the national Yes Equality campaign and canvassed door-to-door for the referendum.
There were ups and downs. I remember knocking on one door, a young couple answering, they saw our badges and before we could say anything: 'It's a yes from us'.
And the people in the house all shouting: 'It's a yes from us too'. It was just joy, to feel that support, no hesitation – 'It's a yes from us'.
Another lovely moment: an old, frail man. It's our own ageism, but we expected a no. And it was a really strong yes, just very clear — 'I want to vote yes'.
A week before the vote, we knocked on a series of doors on a road near our sons' schools – one no after another. The worst: having to walk up that street every day, knowing all these people don't support us.
That Thursday was strong nos – there had been a TV debate the night before… we wondered were there more silent nos than we thought. It was very disheartening so close to polling day, really deflated us.
The night before the vote, a knock on the door – our babysitter who'd moved to New York, she'd flown home to vote yes. That was a lovely moment.
The morning of. 9.15am… on the radio… David Quinn had conceded even before the ballot boxes opened, just from the exit poll. We couldn't believe it.
We went to the RDS — such a celebration! Once the boxes opened, it was clear it would be a win.
That it was geographical was amazing — for everyone who grew up in a small town, to know your town voted yes was massive, meant so much. Like a big embrace… it was very healing.
At the party for the national volunteers, Mary McAleese came in… when she read over one million yes votes, everyone started jumping around.
Until that moment, we knew… but we didn't. I got quite emotional — that was the moment: 'We've done it'.
For Denise and me, our day-to-day didn't change hugely. We'd been together 13 years, had two children, were lucky to have lots of family support, and our children were in a progressive school.
But at an emotional level, everything changed – we felt a security we hadn't before. The anxieties we carried about our family being discriminated against fell away. I felt a weight lift. We were lighter.
The enormity of the yes vote said Ireland had changed. That people are kind. They actually do support you. I had felt different, a lot of people do, but that acceptance – 'we love you anyway'. It gave people a lot of dignity.
It benefitted everyone – that's what fairness does. Everyone felt better for it. It made Ireland, society, feel more open, not just for same-sex couples. Being a fair and just society is good for everyone.
Such a shift now to politics the opposite of that. Using minorities – migrants, refugees, LGBT — to stoke fear. It benefits no one, closes down kindness, fairness, feeling joy. It's driven on fear, on taking things from others. It doesn't make anyone feel safe.
The marriage referendum was important for the rights it brought. And because we remember how it felt that we'd grown up as a nation — left repression and judgment behind. And we knew that we are kind.
This year, Ireland marked a decade of marriage equality with a call to defend LGBTQI+ rights at home and abroad.
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Irish Examiner
6 days ago
- Irish Examiner
Paula Fagan: 'The marriage referendum was healing, being a fair and just society is good for everyone'
I grew up in Drogheda in the 1970s and '80s. I knew I was different from very young. Hearing people talk about getting married, I knew deep down it wasn't going to be me, not that I knew about attraction. By my early teens I had my first crush on a girl — I knew then for sure. But I also knew not to say anything. There was a lot of overt homophobia in those years. I knew who I was, and that it wasn't safe to say it. Later, working on the LGBT helpline, I've seen people hate it in themselves — I didn't. I always accepted it in myself, but was wise enough to know it wasn't safe to say. When I was 12, walking through a Drogheda shopping centre, there was a shop selling tellies. Through the window you could see Wimbledon on, Martina Navratilova playing. Two older women were standing nearby, talking in a very derogatory way — Navratilova had come out by then — sneering comments, about how she looked, her sexuality. I remember thinking, 'oh God! That's what they'd think of me if I said anything'. At 16, I worked in a wholesale electrical company, a lot of male staff, most who came in were tradesmen, electricians. One woman would come in, she was out as lesbian. The slagging after she was in: homophobic jokes, how butch she was. She was the first really out person I'd met in real life… She took her own life – maybe she had other stuff going on. Very chilling when I was 16. That chill factor you absorb when the norms are a certain way. I found it all hard to shake when I wanted to come out. Only when I moved to Dublin, worked in a progressive organisation, did I feel able to come out, start living an authentic life. The passing of the marriage referendum was definitely healing. My partner, Denise, and I had been involved in the Marriage Equality campaign since 2006. We also volunteered with the national Yes Equality campaign and canvassed door-to-door for the referendum. There were ups and downs. I remember knocking on one door, a young couple answering, they saw our badges and before we could say anything: 'It's a yes from us'. And the people in the house all shouting: 'It's a yes from us too'. It was just joy, to feel that support, no hesitation – 'It's a yes from us'. Another lovely moment: an old, frail man. It's our own ageism, but we expected a no. And it was a really strong yes, just very clear — 'I want to vote yes'. A week before the vote, we knocked on a series of doors on a road near our sons' schools – one no after another. The worst: having to walk up that street every day, knowing all these people don't support us. That Thursday was strong nos – there had been a TV debate the night before… we wondered were there more silent nos than we thought. It was very disheartening so close to polling day, really deflated us. The night before the vote, a knock on the door – our babysitter who'd moved to New York, she'd flown home to vote yes. That was a lovely moment. The morning of. 9.15am… on the radio… David Quinn had conceded even before the ballot boxes opened, just from the exit poll. We couldn't believe it. We went to the RDS — such a celebration! Once the boxes opened, it was clear it would be a win. That it was geographical was amazing — for everyone who grew up in a small town, to know your town voted yes was massive, meant so much. Like a big embrace… it was very healing. At the party for the national volunteers, Mary McAleese came in… when she read over one million yes votes, everyone started jumping around. Until that moment, we knew… but we didn't. I got quite emotional — that was the moment: 'We've done it'. For Denise and me, our day-to-day didn't change hugely. We'd been together 13 years, had two children, were lucky to have lots of family support, and our children were in a progressive school. But at an emotional level, everything changed – we felt a security we hadn't before. The anxieties we carried about our family being discriminated against fell away. I felt a weight lift. We were lighter. The enormity of the yes vote said Ireland had changed. That people are kind. They actually do support you. I had felt different, a lot of people do, but that acceptance – 'we love you anyway'. It gave people a lot of dignity. It benefitted everyone – that's what fairness does. Everyone felt better for it. It made Ireland, society, feel more open, not just for same-sex couples. Being a fair and just society is good for everyone. Such a shift now to politics the opposite of that. Using minorities – migrants, refugees, LGBT — to stoke fear. It benefits no one, closes down kindness, fairness, feeling joy. It's driven on fear, on taking things from others. It doesn't make anyone feel safe. The marriage referendum was important for the rights it brought. And because we remember how it felt that we'd grown up as a nation — left repression and judgment behind. And we knew that we are kind. This year, Ireland marked a decade of marriage equality with a call to defend LGBTQI+ rights at home and abroad.
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In his first month, Pope Leo XIV has taken a very different approach to his predecessor Francis. Leo, the former Cardinal Robert Prevost, has led some two dozen public events since he was elected as the first US pope on 8 May but not made notable appointments, nor announced plans for foreign trips, nor said where he will live at the Vatican. It's a stark contrast to when Francis, originally from Argentina, was selected as the first pope from the Americas in March 2013. Within a month, Francis had announced he would be the first pontiff in more than a century to live outside the Vatican's apostolic palace, appointed his successor as Archbishop of Buenos Aires and created a new formal advisory group of senior Catholic cardinals. Two of Leo's long-time associates said they expect the 69-year-old Pope to take a deliberative approach to the challenges facing the Catholic Church and may require months before making major decisions. "Leo is taking his time," Rev Mark Francis, a friend of the new pontiff since the 1970s, said. "While he is going to continue in the path indicated by Pope Francis, his disposition is very different." Leo was first appointed a bishop by Francis in 2015 and then chosen by the late pope to take up a senior Vatican role two years ago. He has frequently praised his predecessor in his first weeks. He has also repeated some of Francis' main themes, and has echoed the Argentine pontiff's emotional appeals for an end to the wars in Gaza and Ukraine. But the two men have different temperaments, according to Rev Francis, who attended seminary with Leo in Chicago and later knew him when they both lived in Rome in the 2000s. "Leo is much more focused and methodical and not inclined to hasty decisions," he said. Among the challenges facing the American pope is the Vatican's €83 million budget shortfall, which Reuters reported in February had stirred contention among senior cardinals under his predecessor. Other looming issues facing the 1.4 billion-member Church include declining adherence to the faith in Europe, ongoing revelations of clerical sexual abuse, and doctrinal debates over matters such as inclusion of LGBT Catholics and the possibility of women's ordination. Francis, who sought to modernise the Church, did not formally change many doctrines but garnered criticism from conservative cardinals by opening the door to communion for divorcees and blessings for same-sex couples. Rev Anthony Pizzo, who has known Leo since 1974 when they attended Villanova University outside Philadelphia together, said the pope is someone who listens carefully and seeks to hear many viewpoints before making decisions. "This is going to be his modus operandi," said Rev Pizzo, who leads the Midwest US province of the Augustinian religious order, to which Leo also belongs. "When you first come into leadership, listen well, get to know your constituency … to make a well-informed decision," he added, describing the pope's thought process. A 'shy' listener Francis and Leo came to the papacy at different ages and with different career backgrounds. Francis, elected at age 76, had been a cardinal for 12 years before ascending to the papacy. He had earlier been a leading contender in the 2005 conclave that elected his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI. Leo, seven years younger when he donned the white papal cassock, is a relative unknown on the world stage who only became a cardinal and Vatican official two years ago. He spent most of his prior career as a missionary in Peru. Early in his tenure, Francis told journalists that, due to his age, he expected to have a brief papacy of only a few years. Leo, the youngest pontiff since John Paul II was elected at age 58 in 1978, can perhaps expect a papacy of ten or more years. Among the challenges facing the new pope is the Vatican budget shortfall and the city-state also has a much larger gap in its pension fund, said to total some €631m by the Vatican's finance czar in 2022 but estimated by several insiders to have since ballooned significantly. In his first weeks, Leo has not addressed the budget issues and has made only a few new appointments to Vatican roles. But he has held formal one-on-one meetings with many senior Vatican officials, which Rev Pizzo suggested the pope could be using to try to learn quickly. Rev Jorge Martinez Vizueta, who knew Leo in Peru, said he is someone who pays close attention to what people tell him. "He listens a lot, even with a certain shyness," said Rev Martinez, an Augustinian at a monastery where Leo previously was a spiritual advisor. Although Leo has not announced where he will live, more than three informed sources said he is expected to move into the official papal apartments in the Vatican's apostolic palace overlooking St Peter's Square. Francis shunned the palace in favour of a Vatican hotel. One senior source, who asked not to be identified, said the papal apartments, which have not been lived in since 2013, will require at least two to three months of renovations. Careful with responses While Francis made some big decisions quickly in his first month, he also took time on other issues. He did not make his first trip abroad until late July 2013, four months into his papacy. Leo's first foreign trip is likely to be to Turkey, to celebrate the 1,700th anniversary of an early Church council with Patriarch Bartholomew, the spiritual leader of the Eastern Orthodox Church. The Vatican has not announced the trip, but it was previously planned for Francis. Bartholomew told an Italian television station that he and Leo discussed the possibility of the new pope travelling to Turkey in late November. Francis, who often spoke off the cuff, was known for giving freewheeling news conferences on flights home from his trips abroad and frequently responded to queries with an unexpected quip. Asked during his first flight home about a Vatican official said to be gay, Francis famously responded: "If a person is gay and seeks God and has good will, who am I to judge him?" Rev Francis said Leo, who in his first month has largely read from prepared texts, is likely to be more careful with his responses during news conferences. "He won't be shooting from the hip like Francis did while speaking with journalists," he said.
