Farewell gal-dem. You were disruptive, joyful and you gave us a voice
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Version 0 of 1. The radical online magazine carved out a journalistic space for many people of colour from marginalised genders It’s not every day you come across a publication like gal-dem. Founded by Liv Little in 2015, the independent London-based platform championed people of colour from marginalised genders and paid close attention to underrepresented community stories. But, at its heart, gal-dem was much more than an insightful resource; it was a thriving network of writers that banded together to carve out space for themselves in a largely white male-dominated industry. So, when gal-dem announced its closure last week, writers across the industry felt the gaping hole that would be left behind. In a goodbye statement published on their site, the gal-dem team noted the difficulties of keeping an “independent media company that is reliant on partnerships afloat over the last three years”. As layoffs have rippled through the industry, the pressures of a global pandemic, budget reductions and an economic downturn proved too much for a small publication to fight against. The news of gal-dem’s legacy run cut short left me heartbroken. Its disruptive, joyful journalism is something I’ll continue to honour. For me, gal-dem was a sign of change, of subversion, and a space to collaborate with brilliant editors and writers. When I was starting out as a newbie journalist, gal-dem’s then music editor, Tara Joshi, gave me my first bylines, helping me find faith and belonging in my writing, whether it was about my love for Paramore as a South Asian listener or weighing in on the debated issue of queering white artists in the music industry. The crucial part of my experience is that it wasn’t limited to just me. Countless fellow POC journalists, readers and fans of gal-dem found comfort in the platform because, truthfully, few others turned the page with such defiance. The journey of gal-dem as a publication may be over for now, but the inroads the platform has left in the industry are still to be followed. As a media outlet, it was not only committed to addressing inequality and misrepresentation in the industry, but also driving stories that had a right to be told. And people listened. The publication made its name by pushing forward compelling conversations with leading Black women, such as Oprah Winfrey and beloved actor Michaela Coel, as well as leading groundbreaking investigations on the rampant transphobia in the NHS system to sensitively covering the tragic death of 12-year-old Shukri Abdi. gal-dem and its poignant editorial strands spotlighted stories and opinions that you wouldn’t discover elsewhere. Although it’s not the only platform centring marginalised voices (Black Ballad, Amaliah, Aurelia, and BRICKS magazine do a brilliant job), it was one of the few that seemingly changed the media landscape on a structural level. And so, what began as a tightly knit volunteer team in south-east London grew into a vital network that reliably paid writers and gave many their first shot at journalism. For many, gal-dem served as an attainable gateway to an industry that often felt closed off to aspiring Black, brown and minority journalists – its impact, ferocity and nurturing team were irreplaceable. gal-dem’s team was committed to uplifting its writers inside the sphere of its publication, and outside of it too. Occasionally, on Twitter, I’d spot callouts from its alumni, such as founder Liv Little and former editor-in-chief Charlie Brinkhurst-Cuff, offering advice and mentorship to fresh-faced writers and those curious about the media industry. It was their supportive ethos that set them apart. Now, many of those once wide-eyed journalists have bylines at big-name publications from the New York Times to the Guardian. At the end of it all, there are some victories that will never be lost. From former politics editor Moya Lothian-McLean calling Labour’s Keir Starmer a wet wipe, to the nuanced, heartfelt “fagony aunt” column helmed by Aisha Mirza, gal-dem remained exceptional for its cutting commentary and unrelenting sense of community. And, let’s not forget the publication’s radical first-person section which shared moving stories and powerful anecdotes during its run, or its sensitive reporting across print and online. There’s no doubt that gal-dem undoubtedly deserved better, but it did serve its purpose – to disrupt an industry that, for too long, looked the same. Zoya Raza-Sheikh is a freelance writer who contributed to gal-dem’s music section |