Breaking Barriers: Navigating Gender Inequality in the Music Industry

Navigating the music industry demands passion, dedication and steadfast resilience. For women, transgender, and non-binary individuals (essentially, anyone who is not a cis white male), the journey can be confronting and challenging. As I explored in my band, Second Idol's recent single, 'Boxing Ring', too often, the very industry we love can inflict harm upon us.Community and solidarity is the path to empowerment, especially among the marginalised. Being surrounded by your peers and sharing experiences can be a lifeline, and banding together paves a path to feeling less alone and staves off negative feelings of imposter syndrome. Off the back of the release of 'Boxing Ring', I had the opportunity to sit down with five phenomenal women from the Australian music industry: LaurenColeman (Aurateque), EmmyMack (RedHook and music journalist), ChelseySanderson (DJ, Princess Unit, La La La’s), DelfiSorondo (The Maggie Pills) and EllieRobinson (TRANSGENRE co-director and music journalist).Together we embarked on a journey that delves into the layers of gender bias woven into the fabric of the music industry and shed light on our challenges, avenues for empowerment, optimism and change. Introduction and Interview by Kate Farquharson of Second Idol[caption id="attachment_182254" align="aligncenter" width="575"]

Kate Farquharson - Photo: Ben Westover[/caption]

Guest Panelists

Lauren Coleman – Aurateque (Artist)

My name is Lauren Coleman. I’m the lead vocalist of my Nu-Punk band, Aurateque. Over the years, I’ve dabbled in managing bands and booking shows and even worked as the editor for a small music publication. Now, I spend my time as a vocal coach. I teach all kinds of vocalists, from kids as young as five years old to seasoned vocalists who want to dive into heavy vocal performance. Music and the music industry are a fascinating whirlwind of excitement - but above all, it’s home, it’s a community, and I’m in love with this life.

Emmy Mack – RedHook (Artist & music journalist)

Hey Kate, thanks for having me for a chat! I’ve fronted a heavy/alt-rock band called RedHook since 2018 and I’ve also worked in the music industry across radio, online journalism and more :)

Chelsey Sanderson – DJ / Princess Unit/ La La La’s (Admin & Marketing)

My name is Chelsey Sanderson. I’m a trans woman living and working in Wollongong, Dharawal Country. I’m primarily a DJ these days, playing vinyl or digital across a broad range of genres under the name Chelsey Dagger and as a part of Wollongong’s Sultans of Spin Vinyl DJ collective, where I also manage and book DJ slots at venues in the Illawarra and further afield. My other day job is in administration and marketing at our local independent live music venue, La La La’s. I play the drums in the poppy post-punk band Princess Unit and previously played in The Nah. I run events under Deer Gaze as a space for alternative and counter-culture LGBTQIA+ music and performances in the ‘Gong.

Delfi Sorondo – The Maggie Pills (Artist)

My name is Delfi Sorondo, I’m the frontwoman and manager of The Maggie Pills. I moved to Melbourne from Buenos Aires, Argentina in 2019 to create this project together with my partner, Mario. I’ve been a lead singer in bands around the rock/punk scene since 2010 and I was involved in music and performing arts since I was a kid and hope to do it for as long as my body allows me!

​​Ellie Robinson – Co-Director of TRANSGENRE and music journalist

Thank you so much for inviting me to be involved; I’m honoured! My name is Ellie, I’m a 27-year-old woman based in Naarm/Melbourne and I’ve been a music journalist, editor and copywriter for the past ten years. I’ve had features printed in publications like NME, Junkee, Guitar World, Mixdown and, of course, the one and only Wall Of Sound – I also spent a few years as the editor of Australian Guitar Magazine, and at the moment I’m working as Commercial Editorial Manager across TheMusic.com.au, Purple Sneakers and Countrytown. Outside the journo beat, I’ve written PR materials for Cult Logic, and done some in-house copywriting for labels like UNFD, Domestic La La and Cooking Vinyl.Last year I partnered with my close friend Tim Blunt to launch TRANSGENRE, a DIY initiative with the goal of celebrating and amplifying trans, non-binary and gender-diverse voices in Australian music. We kicked it off with a sold-out music festival in Eora/Sydney last December, and this year we’re working to continue building our brand and carving out a spot for ourselves in the wider landscape of the Australian music industry. Like many creative industries, the music industry still remains to be one where marginalised individuals really have to fight hard for recognition and shifting the status quo. Unfortunately, when it comes to women in music, it is very common for us to be played against each other and it can feel like we’re in a fabricated battle against each other as a result of hard ingrained misogyny. Have you encountered situations in the music industry where you felt like you were thrown into a "boxing ring" with other women, non-binary, or trans musicians and had to fight your way out? Can you describe one of those instances and how it affected you? Lauren: When considering the endless comparisons between women, I couldn’t pinpoint a single time when this wasn’t an issue. It’s constant. Women, non-binary, and trans musicians are constantly being pitted against each other, and internalised misogyny is an underlying factor perpetuating it all. Unfortunately, we are made to feel like our value lies solely in how we present ourselves and how we look. When a woman, non-binary, or trans musician expresses themselves and their sexuality freely, it often leads to criticism and backlash. There's a lot of discourse about how that is perceived as a threat, which might be true, but I think that it’s a lot deeper. We all project our own insecurities, and this manifests across a broad spectrum. Though, at the crux of it all, insecurity breeds hate and cruelty. I used to suffer from internalised misogyny, but I’ve since healed through asking myself, what do I really feel about this? Why am I threatened? As a woman in the industry, the threat manifests itself as a comparison and a feeling of not being good enough. Once I started to recognise that, I could reflect on a tangible feeling and change how I reacted.It’s funny to me how powerful women can be threatening. It should be empowering – it IS empowering.Delfi: Definitely have. I feel like the decision to be a woman or a GNC person in the music industry brings with it an acceptance of that boxing ring that you’re thrown into, and that sucks. I don’t think we have the alternative to not be in it. Being a female singer also puts me in a place where I’m put down because of not playing instruments and ‘just singing’. I’m compared with the female musicians in my band or with singers who also play instruments. It’s exhausting; I’m a singer and performer by choice because I enjoy creating art using just my body. I constantly feel I need to prove myself.Emmy: I’m gratefully feeling that a lot less these days, but I did have a lot of experiences early on in my career that really fucked me up. The biggest one happened when I was in my early 20’s. I was told by two white male managers aged in their 60’s and 70’s (upon finding out my age) that I only had “a year or so” left before I’d be too old to ever hope to succeed in music because after that, “nobody in the industry would want to touch” me.That conversation instilled a profound sense of fear and dread that rattled me to my core and created this ever-present feeling of “racing the clock” which has, many times, led to me very close to making brash and terrible career decisions in the rush to “make it” before I pass my industry-enforced expiration date. Feeling like your value as an artist is defined by youth and good looks as opposed to talent and hard work is shattering, and to this day whenever RedHook misses out on an opportunity, I still have to fight this little voice in my head that tells me it’s because I’m not young enough or pretty enough. I’m eternally in that boxing ring with myself, I guess.Chelsey: I think I’m mostly pretty lucky in this regard. There’s always that stereotype that women will infight or bring each other down, but people who say that really need to see how men behave in the music industry. Most of my experiences from early in my music career, about ten years ago, involved women, trans and non-binary people supporting each other as we tried to move the local scene forward, initially to a lot of painstaking pushback. Perhaps it was more like a tag team wrestling match, where we’d have to join to fight out of the status quo. From where I stand, things have only improved in the last ten years. There have been those who don’t want to rock the patriarchal boat because they benefit from it, but more and more now, I’m seeing people of all genders willing to speak out when they see bigotry. Sadly, it’s not always enough, and you find out something disappointing about someone on the scene. The results from the 2022 Raising Their Voices report show there is a lot of work still to be done for women, trans and nonbinary people, and also particularly people of colour and First Nations, people to feel safe at gigs consistently.Ellie: I think it’s important for me to start by noting that I publicly came out as a trans woman at the start of last year, and the bulk of my experience in the music industry comes from the perspective of someone who outwardly presented as a cisgender man. But I think I can offer a valuable perspective with that in mind, because a big part of why I didn’t feel comfortable starting my transition until recently is that I’d always worried it would destroy my career. Whenever I’d hear trans people come up in conversation, it was in the context of them being tokens or “diversity hires” – that even just one trans person in a visible role in the industry was a sign of “forced diversity”. There was also one instance that always haunts me, shortly after I started editing Australian Guitar, when a colleague quipped that I’d featured “too many chicks” in the interview section; from memory I think that issue had, like, 30 percent women and 70 percent men. Those kinds of interactions helped keep me in the closet for way longer than I should’ve been. But I’m very thankful to be able to say that since I left that closet, I haven’t had any experiences where I’ve felt like I was pitted against other women or trans people. Part of that might just be because, in my experience, trans people in the industry tend to gravitate towards and latch on to each other as supporters – because we know that in and outside of our careers, solidarity is essential for survival. When our rights to things like healthcare and housing are being viciously debated and fought against at every level, the support of our own kind is really all we have. We don’t have the privilege of fighting with each other – in the end, we all lose.[caption id="attachment_182250" align="aligncenter" width="406"]

Lauren Coleman - Photo: Jack Fontes[/caption]Recognition can be validating and life-changing, but on the flip side, as a person who is a non-cis male it, it’s hard to ignore the niggling feeling that in varying circumstances, there is a possibility that you’re being used as a tool to the benefit of others to be seen as progressive. Sometimes motives are purely misguided, or people are oblivious to their actions and the bigger picture, but it can be incredibly hard to keep your head above water and not succumb to imposter syndrome. Have you ever felt like your presence in the music industry was tokenised or that you have been treated as a diversity trophy for the benefit of others? If so, how did that experience impact your sense of belonging or legitimacy as an artist? Alternatively, have you seen this happen to other artists?Chelsey: I find tokenism a tough concept to address because it can be nuanced and insidious. I’ve also discussed it with people from other marginalised groups. If you’re getting paid the same as another performer in that position would and are appropriately billed in a lineup for where you are in your career, then it’s not tokenisation. But when you’re early in your music journey, it can be hard to tell what a sincere offer is and isn’t. I think the fact that you always have to wonder about the intention of who is booking you is the worst part. Sometimes, you’ll look at a bill you’re opening for and see that it’s all men and get the idea. You can feel like you should say yes just so there’s some diversity of representation.Delfi: One experience I’ve had in this field was being addressed as a First Nations person in email correspondence from a quite prominent music event. I had mentioned the fact that I’m a South American migrant and was labelled as a culturally diverse person in a pretty disrespectful way (for me and First Nations peoples). It was tokenising and discriminating even though it wasn’t exactly for being a woman. I also see female and GNC bands and artists, including myself, being invited to participate in events just to tick the gender ratio box. On many occasions, this happens with big festivals or important support gigs, and it really messes with your head when you think about why they want you there and do they really value as an act. Lauren: There have been moments where I’ve questioned whether or not I’m valued for what I am or if I’m there for the diversity quota alone. The whole idea of tokenising women has always impacted my sense of legitimacy, and I believe that is why women, non-binary, and trans musicians are such high achievers in this industry. All of those women who are involved in this scene are tearing it to shreds, and I strongly believe it has to do with this behaviour because I’ve felt it too. I feel like I have to work much harder to prove to myself that I'm more than just a number. I want to show that I'm truly worthy of being chosen to play in big shows or any other opportunities. Regardless of whether or not anyone is to blame, sometimes it makes me want to stand out more than ever and fight for my worth. Saying that out loud feels ludicrous.Emmy: When I was first coming up in the scene in my old band, we played a lot of local “women in rock” events with other femme-fronted heavier acts, and those styles of events always left a bit of a funny taste in my mouth. It always felt more like they were doing more to fetishise and reinforce the “other-ness” of women, rather than attempting to normalise diversity in the space.But the tokenism thing is a funny one; I think it all really comes down to intent. And that can be tricky to discern. Ultimately though, regardless of whether an event promoter is booking more women to be tokenistic in the hopes of avoiding a public lynching, or whether they’re genuinely trying to impact positive change, I feel like having more women and non-gender-conforming artists on lineups and in other visible spaces in the industry is still a good thing?Ellie: Short answer: yes, but I have a lot of complex thoughts on this and the concept of tokenisation as a whole. I thankfully haven’t felt tokenised as a woman, but I have as a trans person, so that’s where my perspective is coming from here (and I absolutely do not want to speak over any women that have felt tokenised).I think by default, trans people being included in the industry at all is a net positive, whichever way you shake it. If we’re given two choices, where choice A is that one trans person is included to fill a quota, and choice B is that no trans people are included, then choice A is objectively the right one. For better or worse, I think that’s always where it starts with regards to diversity. I don’t agree with it, but historically that’s the way it’s been for any marginalised group.I have been in a lot of situations where I’ve been the only trans person invited to an event or the only trans person included in a discussion, and in those moments it certainly is hard not to feel like my presence has been tokenised. That’s especially true for scenarios where I’m surrounded by other women and they’re all cis – I sometimes feel like I’m only there for them to feel good about themselves because they included a trans woman.In saying that, I am always grateful to be included, and to be seen and valued as a woman regardless of the cis-to-trans ratio. Again, if the alternative to my inclusion as the token trans woman is that no trans women are included at all, then fuck it, I’ll happily be the token trans woman! I just wish I didn’t have to be a token – there are so many incredible trans women out there in the Australian music industry, and I want to see allof us have a spot at the table and given the same opportunities to thrive.[caption id="attachment_182253" align="aligncenter" width="495"]

Ellie Robinson[/caption]Stereotypes persist and we exist in a space which often favours ‘pleasant women’, rigid constructs of femininity and sexualisation. Have you ever felt pressure to conform to certain gender norms or expectations in order to be taken seriously as a musician? How do you resist or challenge those pressures? Emmy: Oh I was shit-scared of appearing too feminine when I was first starting out. I learned pretty quickly that if I rocked up to soundcheck wearing a pretty dress or looking too femme I’d be mistaken for a “fan girl” or a “band girlfriend” and asked to leave. That sucked. But I also feel like there’s been at least some kind of positive cultural shift over the past 10 years when it comes to those kinds of prejudices? Or maybe my perception is just a bit warped now because my band has more of a profile?But I’ve always resented the fact that the industry wants to put us all in a box and choose “one thing” to be, if that makes sense? I’ve had industry bigwigs look at my Instagram profile and say things like “We don’t really understand what you are? Sometimes you look really glamorous and other times you look like a tomboy, so which is it? It’s a bit confusing?” Yes lol. I’m a multifaceted human. I can be all of these things and more. Why do I need to pick one way to present myself just because it’s more palatable for you? Respectfully, fuck off.Delfi: It’s good to reflect on the fact that I’ve stopped caring so much about those expectations as I’m growing older. I have felt like that for years, especially in my beginnings as a lead singer in the Buenos Aires scene.As a female singer, one is expected to sing or move in a certain way, with this or that kind of look on your face. I’ve always been a heavily dramatic, emotional and chaotic person when it comes to expression. I’m loud, I love moving frantically and making weird, awkward faces. For so long I did not allow myself to let all of those impulses come out on stage. Ageing was definitely one of the things that made me challenge this and be myself more.Another big part of it was finding the right people who I feel safe and comfortable with, which made me realise I had solid ground to stand on and I could begin unravelling in many different ways.Lauren: Women, non-binary, and trans musicians embracing their sexuality and feeling empowered in their femininity is amazing and beautiful, and I love to see it. All women should be empowered to express that however they see fit.Although, sometimes, the pressure to be beautiful and conform to gender norms can be overwhelming. I literally tell myself sometimes that I won't do well because I am not pretty enough; it is so toxic and I hate it.When I feel like that, I tend to go the opposite way to fight the feeling and take back control. I cover my face with make-up to make myself look weird, and I dress in baggy shirts with crazy shoes and accessories to match. I just try to be as un-pretty and bold as I possibly can. It’s not always the best reaction, but it’s my coping mechanism. I’ve always felt so insecure with how I look, but I’ve always tried to remind myself that someone might be looking up to me; they might admire me. Recognising that kind of power is so important; no matter where your career might be, someone is looking up to you. I teach little girls how to sing every day; I know they look up to me. Every time I watch them perform or sing, I think about how they’re going to be influenced in this world and I know that if I conform to something out of insecurity, I let my girls down.Ellie: As a trans woman (and especially one that doesn’t “pass”), I feel like my ability to be taken seriously hinges on my ability to conform to the societal norms of femininity. I feel like I’m expected to wear dresses and doll myself up in makeup and jewellery, and if I don’t, I’m treated like less of a woman. Even among people who would consider themselves progressive, there’s this deep-seated, maybe even subconscious notion that cis women are allowed to dress and present as feminine or un-feminine as they want, but for a trans woman to be valid, they must appear and act as feminine as humanly possible.It’s definitely tiring. I personally love wearing cute, feminine outfits and getting all dolled up for an event or an in-person interview, but sometimes I do wish I could just roll out of bed, throw on a dress and race out the door without having to meticulously plan and coordinate my entire appearance, lest I be treated like less of a woman. Sometimes I don’t want to have to sit in my car for 30 minutes, reciting the Rainbow Passage into the Voice Tools app until I can hit a flawless D4. Did you know that when the sunlight strikes raindrops in the air, they act as a prism and form a rainbow!? Fascinating shit!I know it doesn’t look too great on paper, but I don’t really do anything to resist or challenge these pressures – partially for my safety and partially for my sanity. But I have started to relax the pressure I place on myself in the small ways I can – it’s only in the past few months that I’ve started logging in to Zoom meetings without any makeup on, and I won’t police myself so strictly when it comes to sounding super feminine when I’m doing an interview (even if that triggers a bit of dysphoria when it comes to transcribing).Chelsey: In terms of my personality, I generally want everyone to get along, and I’ve used this to find the people who share my values. But I will absolutely kick up a fuss if need be. There’s been a lot of heated arguments over the years, which can be scary because it’s easy to be painted as irrational when you're trans and when you're a woman. The pressure to remain calm and pleasant is always there, especially if you’re dealing with a man who is completely unaffected by misogyny or transphobia; of course, he is going to stay calm; there’s no skin in the game. Building a genuine community of like-minded people makes it much easier to be yourself because you’ll always have backups and allies. Once people in the industry genuinely get to know you, you can be respected for who you are without compromise, but getting to that point has been a long and arduous road.There’s also a lot to be said about DJ culture at the moment. Traditional cis-white European ideals of feminine beauty remain and perhaps have gotten worse in the music industry from the ubiquity of social media. It used to be that DJs could be weirdos who look like absolutely anyone behind the decks (though overwhelmingly men); I hope there’s always a space where that can continue. I sometimes have the fear that I’m missing out on work for someone who fits a particular aesthetic ideal of femininity that I don’t adhere to.[caption id="attachment_182252" align="aligncenter" width="496"]

Chelsey Sanderson[/caption]Within my career so far as an artist, it’s become apparent that connecting with like-minded individuals and seeking support, and cheering on your peers is important on so many levels. Can you share a moment when you felt supported or uplifted by allies or supporters within the music industry in the face of gender-related challenges? Lauren: Once, I was on tour with Ghostseeker, playing in Melbourne. Someone made a remark about how I looked (a sexually charged compliment - gross), which sent me into an anxiety spiral, and I sat in the green room and cried the entire night. The night before, it had also happened. It pretty much happens at least once at a show, sometimes on multiple occasions. I anticipate it at this point, which makes the anxiety much worse. My beautiful boys came into the room and comforted me, and it wasn’t long before the other bands started coming into the green room. The members from Silverfang, Ultrvlt and Ghostseeker all comforted me, making me feel really warm and safe by talking me through everything, listening to me, and even sharing similar experiences. This was one of the first tour runs we did that was run by Qona Creative, who make a point of having an inclusive line-up. That night made me realise how important inclusivity is because it makes me feel safe and truly a part of an incredible community when I have women around me who can relate to me and my struggles with social anxiety and being perceived.Delfi: One of my dearest memories with The Maggie Pills was when our former guitarist Jess came up with a great song after going through one of those trips to the music store where the only thing that wasn’t mansplained to her was the initial ‘hello’. Or including a phrase I’m told so much in a ranty song - ‘So, do you just sing?’ I think the ultimate uplifting technique (revenge) is making art with the challenges you get.Even though I can’t think of a specific situation, I’m constantly uplifted by my bandmates and other friends in the industry. I’ve managed to create a very nice ‘bubble’ where I almost don’t go through all that sexist bullshit, sometimes it’s hard, but I think it’s important to stop attending places and frequenting people who just don’t get it.Ellie: I’m really thankful that everyone I work with at my nine-to-five is a trans ally – at least to my knowledge. I feel very supported and validated by my colleagues, and I make a conscious effort to surround myself with peers that I know will take me seriously as a woman regardless of the circumstance. And inversely, I will actively distance myself from anyone who treats me with hostility or pushes back on my identity. I know my value, and I know that I am more valuable than any transphobe in this industry.Early last year, around the time Wall Of Sound started doing its print magazine, I was on a call with Browny (chief bossman at WOS for anyone who doesn’t know) and I had a brutal cold, so I sounded all husky and couldn’t do anything to feminise my voice – and before I could finish apologising for it, he shut me down and let me know that he’d take me 100 percent seriously no matter what I sounded or looked like. That specific show of allyship meant so much to me; I know the heavy and alternative music scenes can be particularly hostile to trans people, but they’ve always been my bread and butter, so to know there are people in those scenes that will stick by me... That shit is for real.Also, the outpouring of love that Tim and I received when we launched TRANSGENRE last year, that was truly overwhelming. So many people have come out of the woodwork to show their support for the initiative, and that’s been so inspiring for us. It’s really galvanised us to push forward and shoot for the moon with everything.Chelsey: I feel supported constantly by most of those I work with in the music scene in Wollongong. I’m not naive enough to think that there aren’t issues, but there are some genuinely excellent scenes and communities happening with more women, trans and nonbinary people taking part than ever. Something that excites me every time is when we have a mixed bill for Deer Gaze, and someone like a straight guy member of one of the rock bands gets to perform alongside drag kings and queens and acts of different genres - and has the absolute time of his life. It’s an event for the queer community, but it’s also a great way to bring on board more allies and friends. It’s easy to find out we have more in common than differences over a beer or after a show.Emmy: Attending the Australian Women In Music Awards last year was honestly so inspiring and uplifting and filled my heart to bursting. Just being around all of these amazing and talented women from all corners of the music industry celebrating each other, bonding over shared experiences and relishing in each others’ successes - it was bloody beautiful.[caption id="attachment_182251" align="aligncenter" width="503"]

Emmy Mack[/caption]From grassroots DIY initiatives, to board rooms, there is a plethora of inspiring individuals in the Australian music industry who are challenging the norms and bravely breaking new ground. What women, non-binary or trans individuals do you look up to in the Australian music industry? Who do you believe is at the vanguard for equality and part of the new breed of changemakers?Chelsey: I’m really disappointed I couldn’t make it to TRANSGENRE last year. What Ellie and Tim pulled off with that festival is inspirational. I think we’ll continue to see a surge in DIY and grassroots events as the music industry continues to shift and the big festivals topple. It’s a time for us to gather like-minded friends and build music communities together, and from what I heard, Tim and Ellie did just that. I’m excited by some of the scenes brewing. Princess Unit played with Final Girls in Sydney in October last year, and something of a trans-punk scene really seems to be gaining momentum. I can’t wait to be a part of its continual growth. I encourage everyone to listen to Sports Bra’s final album, Spite World. Though the band is no longer together, its members were my biggest influences and inspirations for the better part of a decade.Delfi: I’ve been in Australia for only almost five years and still feel there is so much history and so many artists that I’m not aware of or familiar with. So, my answer is definitely limited (to Melbourne). Porpoise Spit. Each and every single one of them. They create a safe and loving atmosphere in every show. They are authentic and real and I love them.Someone else I look up to is Angel Estrada a local ballroom and nonbinary artist. They are a non-stopping creator and ambassador of the local underground ballroom scene, which is one of the most open and welcoming environments for women, nb and trans folks. They’re one of those people who enrich this town (and whichever town they’re in) by the millions. Also, they danced in our video ‘The Freedom Club’.Lauren: I look up to every woman, non-binary, and trans musician in the industry. We work so hard, every single one of us. We have to. We all know who’s killing it in the game. There are so many women and they’re all high achievers. We’ve got a chip on our shoulder; we’ve got something to prove. We come in all different shapes, sizes, colours, average decibels (Mine’s def like +32db; idk how I’m so loud) and I think it’s about time the world got to see it all in technicolour, baby!Ellie: Y’all ever heard of Kate Farquharson? Second Idol? Total fucking icon.I owe so much to Deena Lynch (Jaguar Jonze) and will take any opportunity I get to shout her out – it was a conversation with her that inspired me to stop living in the closet and set me on the journey to embrace my authentic self as fully as I have. To that end, I know they’re (sadly) not active as a band anymore, but I will always look up to Camp Cope – as a unit and as Georgia Maq, Kelly-Dawn Hellmrich and Sarah Thompson – as the best feminist role models I could have at a crucial time for my self-development.As far as things go in the industry, I couldn’t speak highly enough of Genna Alexopolous – who fittingly has worked closely with Deena and Camp Cope – as the absolute epitome of a boss babe: she works incredibly hard at what she does, she’s loud and proud in sharing her beliefs and standing up for what’s right, she’s a champion for women and trans/non-binary people in the Australian music industry, and she just has the most beautiful soul. It’s only because of women like Genna that I have stuck around in the industry for as long as I have. Her and Lili Jean Berry, who I would honestly describe as the feminist queen of heavy music in Australia, and shares all the same qualities.Emmy Mack is also doing such amazing things in her position as the frontwoman of RedHook, and as a staunch champion for women in the industry. I’m so blessed to be able to call her a friend and a peer, I look up to her so much.I’m also very much inspired by Sunny Dial, who plays drums for Baby Shower and Leo, and heads up Bonez Queer Party. Bonez might just be the best thing to happen for the queer music scene in Australia, I definitely look up to that whole operation for what I’d like to achieve with TRANSGENRE. Specifically in regards to trans activism, Jackie Mae Turner – who fronts one of my favourite new punk bands, Final Girls – is out here literally changing lives as the director of the Trans Justice Project. I love everything that she and her crew are doing to shape a brighter future for trans and gender-diverse Australians. Jackie inspires me a lot on a personal level, she makes me want to be more active in my community and do more to champion my trans siblings. I look up to Kristen S. Hé in a lot of ways: she’s one of the best writers and music journalists in the entire country, for a start, but she’s also a brilliant creative and a wonderful person. Her musings on transness and queerness from her own perspectives never fail to leave me enthralled. Ali Gallagher is another brilliant transfemme in Australian music journalism, who I look up to so much and have been so grateful to work with in the past. There are so many more people I want to shout out! This isn’t fair!Emmy:Vicki Gordon from the AWMA’s is a living icon. That woman has spent decades smashing through the industry’s glass ceilings with a sledgehammer and she’s showing no signs of stopping any time soon. I’m in constant awe of her talents, passion, determination, hard work and kindness.[caption id="attachment_182380" align="aligncenter" width="651"]

Delfi Sorondo. Photo: Putri Ayu Sari[/caption]If I could time travel to visit my younger self, when I felt that urge to pick up a guitar and start a band, I feel as though I could provide myself with a tome of advice. What advice would you give to other women, non-binary, or trans individuals who are navigating the complexities of the industry and facing similar challenges? What makes you press on in the face of adversity? Chelsey: My main advice is to seek out allies; you don’t have to do it alone. Reach out to similar performers, be they other women, trans, and/or non-binary, in the genres you're interested in. Ask to play a show together and learn from each other. There are so many wonderful people out there who are generous with their time.There are also allies out there who might not know the right terminology yet or have some unlearning to do, but many will get there over time (this is where we can best use our cis men's friends and allies to help, so we’re not always the ones doing the work). Also, be wary of those who know the right words to say to your face and appear progressive for clout.I continue doing what I do because I don’t want others to go through what I went through, navigating an at times misogynistic, often clueless and very frequently transphobic music scene with few people who looked or thought like I did. I hope the next generation can see more musicians who look like them or whose experience they can relate to. I hope it helps them to be able to enjoy the love of music more freely and maybe even cobble together a career out of it like I have.Delfi: Surround yourself with people who support you and uplift you. Make art that feels like you, that makes you happy or feels honest, don’t make it for others or for the industry. Stay real and authentic and don’t listen to c*nts. Get as far away from those as you possibly can.In the face of adversity, it would be really hard for me if I was alone in this. My mates and the fellow artists that surround me give me inspiration and faith to keep going. I also have a strong belief that hard work pays off. Give yourself as much time and as many breaks as you need but if you want it, don’t give up!Lauren: It’s cliche, but be yourself. ACTUALLY, be yourself. What do YOU want to do? How do you want to express yourself, your art? At the end of the day, nothing matters but your integrity as a human and as an artist. You can’t let anyone tear you down or bring you down because you’re a human being and you’re worthy of love and all the beauty life has to offer. If you feel lost or helpless, please reach out to another woman, non-binary, or trans musician on the scene. I promise you, they will be there for you. We all feel the same pressures, we all see and feel the same shit, you’re not alone.Ellie: Never compromise. Especially not for a cishet man.Emmy: Talk to each other, support each other, uplift each other, celebrate others' successes and have each others’ backs. Lift as you climb, my queens!Sincerest thanks to Chelsey, Delfi, Ellie, Emmy and Lauren for their generosity and for divulging their personal experiences. By speaking out, and talking to one another we can not only find resonance for our similarities, but bear witness to our differences, learn and grow. If we band together and be radically authentic we can open doors to empower both ourselves and others, to elevate our voices and break down barriers.Words by Kate Farquharson

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