Recognition and celebration of lesbian identities had been part of the collective since its inception; a trend similar to other long running anti-violence organizations around the world (Arnold and Ake, 2013). The salience of lesbian identities in anti-violence activism, Tia explained to me, was partly due to the positioning of anti-violence activists as “tree-hugging, bra-burning, man-hating lesbians” by hostile communities in the 1970s. The public backlash, however, resulted in the creation of a political space in which the collective was determined to break down discriminatory social norms which limited the full participation of lesbian women in Aotearoa New Zealand. Jen, who had been part of the organization for nearly 30 years, felt liberated by the attention to lesbian identities. Before she became involved in the collective, she told me she knew that she was:

Many years later, Jen was exposed to the possibilities of being a lesbian like she wanted when she joined the collective as a volunteer. She described it as extremely emancipatory, telling me: “I came out as a lesbian about the same time [as I started volunteering]. That was really quite cool because being a lesbian in [the organization] in those days was a very … recognized and celebrated thing.”

Like Jen, I experienced that emancipatory feeling when I joined an organization that openly and actively attempted to celebrate and include LGBT+ identities. Not only was my identity as a queer woman recognized by my colleagues, but was celebrated as bringing a unique perspective to how we could best support LGBT+ women in our anti-violence activism. The contrast to the compulsive sexual and gender ‘neutralization’ of the business school environment (Rumens, 2016) in which I was spending the other half of my time was stark.