 North Melbourne Books: Fourteen chronicles in harrowing detail a year of intense homophobic bullying you experienced at the age of fourteen. Beatings, betrayals and a feeling of constant humiliation filled your school days. Teachers and guardians were of no help, allowing the abuse to go unchecked. What made you want to tell your story?
Shannon Molloy: Four years ago, at the height of the Safe Schools controversy, I was on the train on the way home from work when I read a news story about an MP giving a speech in Parliament. He described the program as a way for gay men to ‘groom’ children. I was horrified. I felt an intense mix of rage and deep sadness. And I thought, if this bothers me, as a privileged and settled 30-year-old man… imagine what 14-year-old me would feel? Imagine what a confused and scared kid in the regions, seeing an elected official stand in the hallowed Parliament House, to describe people like me as paedophiles, would feel in that moment. I got home and bashed out this first-person opinion piece about why we need a program like Safe Schools and began it with a story about trying to kill myself when I was 14. The response was phenomenal. Among all of the lovely messages from friends, family and strangers, were far too many notes from men like me who’d experienced something similar, from boys like I was who still do live through that same hell, and from mothers whose boys weren’t lucky enough to survive like I had. So, I realised there was a story here that could maybe give people hope and remind people of where we’ve come from and how far we still have to go. NMB: The book is intensely personal, going into so many painful experiences. Was it a difficult book to write? SM: I joke that it was like free therapy that I got paid for. There was tough parts to relive, especially the ill-fated romance with Tom, but it was also a hugely cathartic story. Much of this book was totally unknown to the people who love me and know me the best. My mother didn’t know a lot of it, and she’s basically my best friend. I’d barely told my husband little bits and pieces. I realised that 20 years later, I was still living with the shame, trauma, anger and sadness of that horrible year. I had squashed it all into a little box and buried it deep in my soul. By coming face to face with it and putting it all down on a page, I could finally acknowledge what happened to me and let it hurt. It felt OK that it hurt. And I could finally grieve for the childhood that I lost. NMB: How did you remember the chronology of events for that single year? Did you use a diary? Did friends help with their memories? SM: That was one of the most challenging parts of it – figuring out when things happened! I did keep a diary during those years, but in some sort of hyper dramatic moment in my mid-teens, I set fire to them all. I can’t remember why. I suspect it had something to do with a boy. I was lucky (in a strange way) that a lot of terrible things happened at school, and so I could link it to some element of time that I recalled. The start of winter break. Being near a school dance. That kind of thing. Also, a lot of my memories are tied to music. I can still hear a song from that era now and I’m instantly taken back to a particular point. We used to watch Video Hits and Rage every weekend and listen to the Weekly Top 40 on radio. I did a lot of research to figure out when songs linked to memories were in the charts, so that helped me place important moments in the year. But, I’ve probably got something wrong, I’m sure. A few were tough. There was one event that happened when it was not too hot, not too cold… so either autumn or spring. I flipped a coin for that one. NMB: The most astonishing thing about Fourteen is how teachers let so much bullying go unremarked. In one shocking example, a school counsellor says you are to blame for the bullying because of the way you walked! The book is set in the late 90s. Do you think things have improved much today, 20 years on? SM: I really hope so. I really want to give some deeply hopeful and optimistic message about how wonderful things must be now for kids. But one of my main subjects that I cover as a reporter is mental health, and so I know that things aren’t fine. I know that gay, lesbian and bisexual kids are six times more likely to attempt suicide than their heterosexual counterparts. I know that for trans kids, it’s double that number. I know that LGBT kids are still excluded and taunted by their peers and so tend to withdraw socially in their key adolescent development years, which can have life-long ramifications. I know that LGBT kids are twice as likely to experience homelessness – and younger. I think teachers are better and more open-minded. I think schools are more accountable (because they have to be). And I think kids know more now than ever, even if just a little more, that they can be whoever they want. But there’s still much room for improvement. NMB: What would be your advice to young gay people in school today? SM: It’s so cliché but it’s true. It gets better. Oh my, how it gets better. You find your people. Your find your place in the world. You can do whatever you want with your life. Life can be wonderful! It’s not all perfect, of course. It’s hard. But you get to choose how you deal with all that stuff, surrounded by a group of people who love you exactly the way you are. NMB: What books are you enjoying reading at the moment? SM: I’m not very good at doing two things at once and so I actually haven’t read a book since I started writing mine. That’s actually shocking to admit. So, now that this is done and out in the world, I’m returning to the pile of bought but ignored books, starting with my dear friend Rick Morton’s best-seller One Hundred Years Of Dirt. It came out 18 months ago. I’m a terrible friend. Fourteen: My Year of Darkness, and the Light that Followed, by Shannon Molloy. Published by Simon & Schuster. $29.99 |
