The Albert Kennedy Trust have been helping homeless LGBT youth for twenty-five years, and they’re angry that they still need to exist. 

By Patrick Cash

Jovanie’s mother realised his homosexuality was not going to change, and she took matters into her own hands. Together with his stepfather, she beat her teenage son. He was then thrown out onto the streets with nothing but the clothes he was wearing. Jovanie walked half a mile to a friend’s house, where he cried himself to sleep on a sofa, wondering what to do.

‘Since then I was sofa-surfing, moving from one place to another, feeling a sense of being lost and not belonging anywhere,’ says Jovanie. ‘It has absolutely affected the way I interact with people, even my relationship with friends I’ve known for years. I’ve learnt the only person I can depend on is me… I was so depressed and lost, The Albert Kennedy Trust was the light at the end of a dark tunnel.’

Albert Kennedy was sixteen and a runaway when he died in 1989. He’d fallen from the top of a multi-story carpark in Manchester, after being chased by a car full of attackers. The Manchester Evening News ran a story on Kennedy the next day:

‘A rent boy carrying a killer disease plunged to his death in Manchester’s red-light district. Firemen wearing special gear had to wash down the street where the teenager was found to ensure no one came into contact with his blood.’

“Twenty-five years later people like Cath Hall are no longer described as witches in national newspapers. But The AKT are angry that they still exist; that there is a need for a charity to pick up the pieces where the state is failing in its remit to support LGBT youth.”

Cath Hall was the foster carer who founded The Albert Kennedy Trust in his memory. Its ethos was to help young LGBT people who needed somewhere to go if they were kicked out of their parental home or the care system. At the time in the early 90s, a simple mission of responsibility and kindness quickly kindled flames of latent homophobia. Hall found herself labelled the ‘Witch of Withenshaw’ by hysterical tabloids.

The Trust now works in London, Manchester and Newcastle providing accommodation and support for LGBT young people who are homeless or living in a hostile environment. If you are 25 or younger, The AKT has a mix of emergency, medium and long-term accommodation through their Purple Door project.

‘God forbid, if The AKT had not helped me at that time I would not be here today,’ says Jovanie. Other young gay men who have been helped by The AKT include Stuart, who had been in a violent relationship and had suffered a mental health breakdown, before ending up homeless. By working with The AKT Stuart has been able to find sustainable housing, and also had access to trained volunteer mentor and counselling services.

Twenty-five years later people like Cath Hall are no longer described as witches in national newspapers. But The AKT are angry that they still exist; that there is a need for a charity to pick up the pieces where the state is failing in its remit to support LGBT youth. In a new report commissioned by The Trust named ‘LGBT Youth Homelessness – National Scoping Review’ it is stated that: ‘the situation for young, gay homeless men and women has showed no improvement over the past decade.

‘Young LGBT people are disproportionately represented among the UK’s homeless. In addition, there are emerging issues around arranged/forced marriage and honour that are causing young people to leave their home.’

Amina’s family moved to the UK from Iraq. When they discovered Amina was a lesbian they began to question whether she still believed in the teachings of Islam. She eventually ended up under house arrest by her parents, only allowed out to college, to keep her from ‘demonising’ Western influences. There were plans to send Amina to Holland, where she suspected she’d be forced to marry a man.

During her captivity, she’d often be forced to kneel on gravel. Amina began to suffer from severe mental health issues, including self-harm and suicide attempts. She contacted the AKT through her college email, the only communication not monitored by her parents. They were arranging to move her into a safe house when Amina discovered her parents were arranging an exorcism.

An exorcism in Islam is called a ruqya and is used to repair the damage caused by sihr or witchcraft. In 2012 six people, including two self-appointed exorcists, were charged with the murder of a young Muslim woman, whose body was found covered with bruises and lungs filled with ‘holy’ water. Working with the police, The AKT managed to get Amina out of her parents’ house, though not without her mother beating her as she left.

As mentioned in our feature on mental health last week, parental rejection and homelessness can be a leading cause of damaging mental health issues in LGBT youth. But The AKT warns of other dangers too, including sexual exploitation, drug and alcohol use dependency and homophobic bullying. Up to 24% of youth homeless identify as LGBT, a hugely disproportionate figure.

The Albert Kennedy Trust has had enough. It’s calling on the local authorities to conduct a thorough review of their housing options, policies and procedures, to ensure services are appropriate for, and inclusive of, homeless LGBT young people, and that all staff must have adequate training in meeting LGBT specific needs. The government must also hold local authorities and housing providers accountable for the accurate collection of sexual/gender identity data.

‘After 25 years witnessing the rejection and abuse of LGBT youth just for being brave enough to come out to their peers and family, this report is a much-needed call to action for government, housing providers, and everyone concerned with young peoples’ wellbeing,’ says Tim Sigsworth, CEO of The Albert Kennedy Trust.

‘Making a number of specific, achievable and cost-effective recommendations we hope to help others prevent lifetimes of youth homelessness and its enduring impact on mental, physical and emotional health.’

For Jovanie, he can look to the future trusting himself and is grateful that he’s healthy physically and mentally. It’s been a hard climb up the ladder, but he’s had The Albert Kennedy Trust there to give support and hold the structure sturdy. He’s in a position now where he can use creativity and self-expression through music to deal with his experiences.

‘Everything that has happened to me getting to where I am right now has been bittersweet,’ he says. ‘I could write a whole album, which is what I’m working towards. Taking all that negativity and [becoming] a beacon to the LGBT community.’

Taking negativity, turning it around and becoming a beacon to the LGBT community? Pretty much sounds like The Albert Kennedy Trust.

• The Albert Kennedy Trust report that this feature was based upon is available to read on their website where you can also find information on LGBT youth homelessness and the ways that the AKT can help: www.akt.org.uk