Queer.

Fairness. Equity. Inclusivity.

AMSA works to promote health equity for all people and recognises the importance of affirming, supporting and celebrating diverse sexualities and gender presentations.

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AMSA Queer advocates for accessible healthcare services for Queer students and communities and produces resources and webinars to better equip medical students to serve Queer patients. AMSA Queer also manages the AMSA Queer Network, which is the largest network of Queer medical students in Australia.

Every year the AMSA Queer (QAMSA) community grows and takes on new and diverse challenges. QAMSA is heavily involved in the representation and advocacy of Queer students. With the continuation of our own Pride Month celebration, we aim to educate all medical students on a range of Queer health issues. QAMSA also manages the AMSA Queer Leaders Facebook group which trains and up-skills Queer Leaders across medical schools.

Our private Facebook group provides a safe space for LGBTQIA+ medical students to connect, find community and solidarity, and discuss issues of particular interest to the Queer community. Our page is accessible to LGBTQIA+ identifying medical students. To join the Facebook group, simply email the team at [email protected] or request to join here.

Another major aspect of AMSA’s work promoting LGBTQIA+ equity is the production and collation of educational resources for dissemination throughout medical schools. QAMSA is excited to have teamed up with Wavelength Med to create a guide for MedSoc Wellbeing and Queer reps, allies, and Queer students to support them to run workshops on terminology and creating safe spaces in clinical practice.

Advocacy

In 2023, AMSA Queer spearheaded a variety of new initiatives, including launching a Queer Peers Mentorship Program, QTIPOC Collective, and hosting two mock OSCE nights with queer health cases. We also continued our history of educational events, including two on asexual health as well as two on trans-health and gender-affirming care. QAMSA regularly advocates for queer health issues, fills curricula gaps with infographics on a broad variety of queer health topics, and connects queer medical students through various social catch-ups across Australia as well as Queer Leaders Network meetings to coordinate advocacy priorities. QAMSA firmly believes in focusing our work on anti-oppressive practices, intersectional frameworks, and commitment to decolonization.

AMSA Queer & AMSA Gender Equity also published a Medical Curriculum Guide for LGBTQIASB+ Health in 2023 to fill gaps in medical curricula and aim to improve LGBTQIASB+ health competency.

Additionally, AMSA Queer spearheaded AMSA’s disaffiliation from MDA National. This action occurred after MDA National’s decision to exclude cover for medical indemnity claims arising out of a) practitioner assessment that a patient under 18 is suitable for gender transition and b) practitioners prescribing gender-affirming hormones for patients under 18. This decision creates further barriers for transgender, gender-diverse, and nonbinary patients in accessing safe and quality healthcare, and thus was imperative for QAMSA to advocate against. A link to this statement can be found here. Lastly, QAMSA Executives lead the authorship of the 2023 AMSA LGBTQIASB+ Health Policy, which reflects a strengths-based lens and advocates for current issues in LGBTQIASB+ health. A link to this policy can be found here.

Student Stories

Being a trans patient

“As a trans person I tend to be more engaged with the healthcare system than most people in their early 20s. And moving around a lot over the past few years for med school and placements has meant that I’ve seen a few different doctors over the last few years. The hardest bit is the first appointment, because you never know how someone is going to react. I always find myself looking for rainbow flags while I’m sitting in the waiting room, looking through pamphlets for anything LGBTIQ related – any sign to reassure myself that I won’t be walking out of the appointment feeling like I want to cry. Then there’s the build up to coming out in the appointment. I still haven’t quite worked out whether it’s better to do it straight away, or wait until later in the appointment.

Once you tell a doctor that you’re trans, the purpose of the visit immediately turns from whatever mundane, unrelated reason you went, to an opportunity for that doctor to use me as a queer encyclopedia. Part of me doesn’t mind, because I understand that doctors can’t be experts on everything, but a lot of the questions can wait to be googled after the appointment. I’ve had to answer invasive questions about what gender dysphoria feels like, what my genitals look like, and whether I’ve had ‘the surgery’. I once had to see a psychiatrist before I was allowed to have top surgery (mastectomy with reconstruction), and spent most of the (very expensive) appointment being reprimanded by the psychiatrist for having started taking hormones without his consent, and listen to him question the qualifications of all the other doctors I had seen up to that point.

The worst thing is that you can never stick up for yourself. The doctor has all the power. You need them to write your scripts for hormones and other medications, and give you the referrals and approvals you need. So when someone says something offensive or problematic, you just take it, because if you fight back they can take access away from you.”

Students as educators

“I come from Canada, and I have actually had exclusively positive experiences there, and in medical school here in Australia. In fact, I had one coworker in Canada stop, and ask me why I was using gender-neutral pronouns for my partner. “Are they gender queer, do you use they for everyone, or are you trying to hide you are gay?” I told him the last one, and he told me “Seriously? Nobody cares, and if they do, I will personally go and speak with them. Never be afraid.”

Since then, I don't hide who I am at work (I'm 29, and I decided to be out at work/school since I was 22), and it hasn't gone badly for me. I have only been in Australia for one year, so I don't know if this is going to be a story of what is possible, or what actually is.

I am very open about my sexuality at school; I feel like most people want to learn about LGBTQ+ issues, and are willing to listen. I told my classmates that they can always ask me any questions they have, and if I cannot answer it, I will find someone who can.

I have received a lot of great questions from my classmates, and they come from a genuine place of wanting to help.”

Heteronormativity in gp

“Visiting the doctor in Canada has not always been positive, and this is what I say is the most negative experience I have had with homophobia. Interestingly, out of all places, going to the doctor has been consistently the worst (aside from two separate pharmacists who, when I called them to tell them “my partner is going to be picking up my prescription,” would not release it to her because they were expecting her to be a man). Multiple times, without asking me if I was having the sort of sex that could make me pregnant, a doctor has asked me which sort of contraception I use, assumed I had experience with the birth control pill or mis-gendered my partner. I usually told doctors that I am gay, and therefore do not use any contraception because I am not terribly concerned about immaculate conception impacting me. When I got a bit older and really comfortable with being open about my sexuality, I reflected on how I felt the first time this happened. The answer was “really awful.” I decided that this doctor (working at a university centre) needed to find out the hard way not to make assumptions.

The doctor asked me if I was using contraception. I said no. The doctor asked me if I was sexually active. I said yes. The doctor asked me if I was using the pill or condoms. I said no. The doctor asked me if I was trying to have a baby. I said no again (at this point, I wondered how long I could carry this on for). The doctor asked a few more similar questions, and instead of assuming that “maybe she is not having the sort of sex that could make her pregnant,” the doctor asked me – a 24 -year-old, university-educated, woman – if I knew how babies were made. I said “yes.” The doctor then asked me what I was doing to avoid pregnancy. “…. nobody with a penis? My partner is a woman.” Note that, at this point, I wasn't considering medicine, or I would not have approached it this way!

The doctor went all sorts of shades of red, and apologized. I don't think she will make that mistake again, but the assumption of heterosexuality can be just as harmful in terms of accessing health care as overt homophobia; I still feel reluctant to discuss my sexual history with doctors, and dread the “which contraception do you use?” question.”

Homophobia in Medical School

“When I came out as gay to one of my medical student colleagues, he immediately walked away and refused to talk to me ever again. This was in first year, and I am now a final year. This has happened more than once.”