I am a great fan of safe spaces. Because the heteronormative world is not a pleasant place. It just isn't.
It has constant little pricks always poking you over and over again. You open a book and there's straight people, you look out the window and there's lots of straight families, you turn on the television and lo, straight folks abound. Adverts are 99.9% straight, television is awash with straightness, the radio's playing yet another boy loves girl song. It's everywhere - and of course, the accompanying little whisper "you're not normal, not normal, not normal, not normal. You don't belong here." Which is damned irritating at times.
. . . . . . . . . .
Then we come to Safe Spaces. In a safe space, the sporks are absent (or at least massively blunted). Safe spaces are places where we do belong, places where we can relax. Places where we don't need to be on guard or afraid or constantly having our eyes sporked. For me, walking into a place I consider a safe Space is like 10 hours of therapy and a very large Bacardi (mock not my drinking habits). It's like taking off your tight shoes and tie after a very long day - except it's a day that has lasted months and the shoes are so tight you can hardly walk and the tie is stopping you from breathing properly.
Which is why we need to respect people's safe spaces. We need to recognize how important they are. We need to recognise when we are tourists in other people's safe spaces. In short, we need to make sure we don't take sporks with us into the safe spaces. Those eyes get sporked enough.