Hey there, I’m Rachael Karamat, your friendly neighborhood lesbian and change enthusiast from Personal Change Lab – the empowerment hub for queer mental health and personal development.
Last year, I had the time of my life participating in the Living Library event in Rotterdam, all in honor of our very own Rotterdam Pride. My “book title” for the day? Well, it was “Surinamese and Queer,” since I am an immigrant who moved from Suriname (South America) to the Netherlands when I was 5. I had the delightful opportunity to dive into one-on-one chats with folks who could ask me anything their curious hearts desired. I didn’t know what to expect, but what a heartwarming adventure it was.
So, what’s the Living Library? It’s a combination of speed dating and a library visit but instead of meeting potential love interests, you connect with living books – real people who share their stories, experiences, and insights. My story? Well, it’s a unique blend of Surinamese culture and queerness, and I was ready to spill the beans on it all.
Picture this: a room buzzing with excitement, filled with people who dared to be open, ask questions, and most importantly, listen. This wasn’t just small talk; it was a full-on connection. And that connection highlighted the pressing need for mental health support that’s tailored to the queer community.
Coming out as queer is often like coming out of a cocoon, but it doesn’t end there. The struggles, the adaptations, the need to hide parts of yourself – they can leave lasting imprints on your mental health and self-perception. It’s like a tattoo on your soul, a reminder of the battles you’ve fought.
Now, back to the Living Library magic. I was blown away by the curiosity and respect with which people approached me. They genuinely wanted to know about the juggling act of being both Surinamese and queer. It was like peeling back the layers of my life, and the openness of these conversations was a beacon of hope for the mental health of queer individuals.
What struck me most was the level of respect and empathy in those one-on-one chats. Many queer individuals have faced discrimination, prejudice, or rejection, and these experiences can take a toll on your mental health and self-esteem. But at the Living Library, the readers (participants) approached with open hearts and minds.
Representation matters, and it matters even more so in mental health support. Finding a therapist who understands your unique journey can be like finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And let’s not forget the importance of safe spaces. Queer-specific mental health services provide these havens where you can let your guard down, share your concerns, and get the support you need without having to deal with judgment or ignorance.
In a nutshell, my day as “Surinamese and Queer” at the Living Library during Rotterdam Pride was like a rollercoaster of emotions, but the good kind. It showed me the incredible power of open dialogue and empathy. It underlined the necessity of queer-specific mental health services. By fostering curiosity, empathy, and respect, we can build bridges that connect not just individuals but entire communities. And in the process, we’ll create a more inclusive and mentally healthy world for all our fabulous, queer selves.
IFLA LGBTQ Users 