Empowering queer Muslim voices: Building bridges for inclusion and support

Many faced rejection or silence around their queer identities within their faith communities. In LGBTQ+ spaces, they often encountered Islamophobia or a lack of cultural understanding. The result was a kind of double exclusion – and for many, it came at the cost of their mental health. 

And a lack of understanding and recognition by healthcare providers of their unique circumstances left many queer Muslims feeling isolated when accessing support services. 

As a medical anthropologist and a member of the executive committee of Sydney Queer Muslims (SQM), Siobhan had long been aware of these challenges. But she also saw in them an opportunity. With support from a UTS Social Impact Grant, she set out to create a practical resource that could help service providers better understand and support LGBTQ+ Muslims. 

‘The aim of the project was to identify some of the main mental health and social inclusion needs of queer Muslims in Sydney and then report these to service providers in an accessible, easily understood way,’ said Siobhan, who is also a lecturer in the Faculty of Design and Society at UTS. 

‘By creating a toolkit, we wanted to help service providers bridge their gaps in knowledge in this space so that they can provide more culturally safe care.’

Conversations leading the charge for change 

Siobhan and her research assistant, Shiffa Samad, worked closely with SQM to design a research process that was safe, respectful, and community-led. They held focus groups and individual semi-structured interviews with queer Muslims, asking about their experiences with mental health services, including what had helped, and what had hindered. The stories that emerged were powerful – and often painful. 

One participant, a trans woman seeking asylum, described the fear she felt during her protection visa interview. ‘The officer I spoke to had rigid ideas about what a trans person looks like, acts like, speaks like,’ she said. ‘I felt that I had to present myself in a particular way to be marked as acceptable by government.’ She spoke of the pressure to conform to a narrow definition of gender identity – one that didn’t reflect her lived experience. ‘My life was in the hands of this officer, and I had to perform for him.’ 

Another participant shared how a well-meaning therapist insisted they come out to their family – not understanding that, in their culture, even straight people rarely talk openly about relationships. ‘Our families show love by feeding people,’ they said. ‘To us, that’s enough.’ For them and their partner, being ‘loud and proud’ wasn’t the goal. Safety, subtlety, and cultural nuance mattered more. 

These stories became the foundation for Supporting queer Muslim clients: a toolkit for culturally safe care – a practical, accessible guide for healthcare and support service providers. 

It doesn’t ask providers to be perfect. It asks them to listen, to learn, and to meet people where they are. 

‘We wanted to hear directly from the community,’ says Siobhan. ‘Their experiences shaped every part of this project. The toolkit is not just about theory; it’s about real lives, real needs, and real change.’

From words to real-world impact 

The toolkit was launched at UTS in February 2025, in front of an audience of 95 people – including representatives from healthcare, social services, and government. The response was immediate and enthusiastic. All 200 printed copies were snapped up within a month, with dozens of attendees following up to request training for their staff. 
‘The response was overwhelming,’ says Siobhan. ‘It showed us just how much demand there is for culturally safe resources. People told us they’d never considered these issues before, and now they wanted to know more.’ 

Since then, Siobhan has delivered training sessions to organisations including ACON, the NSW Department of Communities and Justice, Canterbury Bankstown Council, and the Asylum Seeker Centre. Each session is a chance to deepen understanding, challenge assumptions, and build bridges. The training draws directly from the toolkit and the voices of the participants who contributed to it. 

The project has raised the profile of Sydney Queer Muslims as a trusted voice in this space. With access to research findings and a growing network of allies, SQM is now better positioned to advocate for change – and to secure funding for future work. One idea already in development is a second toolkit, this time designed for cisgender, heterosexual family and friends who want to better understand and support their queer loved ones. 

The impact of the project has extended beyond what Siobhan initially imagined. ‘We knew there was a gap,’ she says. ‘But we didn’t realise just how hungry people were for guidance. The toolkit gave them something tangible, something they could use to start making change.’ 

The project also helped build relationships between SQM and key service providers, including Sydney Local Health District, Western Sydney Local Health District, Multicultural NSW, and STARTTS Refugee Support Services. These connections are already leading to new collaborations and opportunities for advocacy. 

For Siobhan, one of the most powerful moments came at the launch event. ‘Service providers came up to us and said, “We’ve never thought about this before. We want to do better.” That’s when I knew the project had made a difference.’ 

While it’s still too early to measure long-term changes in service delivery, early signs are promising. The toolkit has sparked conversations, prompted training, and positioned SQM as a key advocate for culturally safe care. It’s also laid the groundwork for future research and evaluation – something Siobhan hopes to pursue with additional funding. 

‘This is just the beginning,’ she says. ‘There’s so much more we can do: more training, more resources, more support for families. But this project showed us what’s possible when you centre community voices and work in partnership. 

‘At its heart, the project is about dignity. It’s about recognising that queer Muslims shouldn’t have to choose between their faith and their identity. It’s about creating spaces where they can be seen, heard, and supported without compromise. 

‘And it’s about change. Not just in policy or practice, but in the quiet, everyday moments where someone feels safe enough to ask for help and knows they’ll be met with understanding.’