POLIS x PRIDE 2025: Queering active mobility!
In honour of Pride Month 2025—and following World Bicycle Day on 3 June—POLIS is spotlighting the powerful connection between the LGBTQIA+ community and active mobility. Our goal is simple yet urgent: to amplify voices that too often go unheard, and to inspire meaningful, lasting change.
As we mark Pride Month 2025—and reflect on World Bicycle Day on 3 June—POLIS is taking this moment to highlight the often-overlooked relationship between the LGBTQIA+ community and active mobility. From cycling and walking to wheeling and scooting, everyone should feel safe, welcome, and visible in the spaces where they move. Yet for many in the community, that is still not the case.
As conversations around active mobility continue to grow, we often hear about the benefits: improved health, more sustainable and cleaner cities, and stronger connections across generations, among many others. But what is too often missing from the narrative is a critical question: whose voices are being heard, and whose are being left out?
There is still significant ground to cover to make active mobility truly inclusive. For the LGBTQIA+ (or queer) community in particular, lived experiences remain underrepresented and rarely centred in mobility planning. But change is afoot—thanks to bold initiatives and individuals who are reshaping the landscape.
Setting the record... straight!
Credits: Liz Morgan (Unsplash)
Despite the growing visibility of LGBTQIA+ communities, data on how queer people experience active travel remains scarce. But this is beginning to change. A report from Sustrans—Out and About: LGBTQIA+ Experiences of Active Travel in Scotland—is helping to fill that gap.
Led by a team of LGBTQIA+ researchers and funded by Transport Scotland, the report draws on interviews, a focus group, and survey responses from LGBTQIA+ adults to explore what it is really like to walk, wheel, or cycle as a queer person. Its central finding is striking: safety is a pervasive concern—not only in terms of road traffic, but in relation to discrimination, harassment, and visibility in public space.
These fears, often amplified at night or in unfamiliar areas, shape the everyday travel choices of LGBTQIA+ people. Many avoid certain routes or times, travel in groups, or change modes altogether. While there is no single safe option, active travel is often seen as safer than public transport, where enclosed spaces make it harder to avoid or escape threatening situations. For some, cycling offers a sense of control and freedom—especially after dark. But one of the report’s most powerful insights is the extent to which queer people feel compelled to change their appearance to appear less visibly LGBTQIA+. This compromise—masking identity to reduce risk—is an all-too-common trade-off between safety and self-expression.
How to—truly—walk (or cycle) the talk
Credits: Benjamin (@frozencloud, Unsplash)
The lived realities uncovered in Sustrans' report are echoed by Sebastien Sutherland, a non-binary cyclist from Scotland now living in Amsterdam. Despite the city’s celebrated bike-friendly infrastructure, they described feeling excluded from mainstream cycling culture—a space that often overlooks queer and marginalised identities.
In response, Sebastien took action. They founded Queer Wheels, the Netherlands’ first LGBTQIA+ cycling club, a space born out of both necessity and love for the community. The aim? To create a riding environment where queer cyclists feel safe, seen, and free from judgement. As they put it, it is about cycling 'without anyone judging or behaving in a way that is not inclusive or is discriminatory'. The response has been powerful: over 100 riders joined Queer Wheels’ 2024 Pride Ride, underscoring the need—and hunger—for truly inclusive cycling spaces.
When people are left out of policy, planning, and representation, they are often made to feel like outsiders in public space— that is why community is vital. For Sebastien, every group ride is more than a cycle—it is a statement of belonging, connection, and visibility. Their vision for a more inclusive future is anchored in three core principles:
- Educate: Take responsibility for learning how to be more inclusive.
- Invite: Reach out to the communities you want to include—but do not place the burden on them to lead the change.
- Empathise: You do not have to share someone’s experience to stand in solidarity with them.
This is not just guidance for grassroots groups—it is a call to action for planners, policymakers, and national institutions. Sebastien’s message aligns with the Out and About report’s recommendations: invest in inclusive training, co-design public spaces with marginalised voices, and create systems that reflect the full diversity of those who use them. True inclusion means designing a transport system where everyone feels they belong—not as guests, but as rightful participants.
Final thoughts: A safe space for all!
Credits: Greg Rosenke (Unsplash)
Active travel brings immense benefits—improving health, building community, and enhancing wellbeing. Yet, without addressing systemic barriers and safety concerns, these benefits remain out of reach for many. Embedding inclusive practices into policy, planning, and infrastructure is essential to create a transport system that truly works for everyone.
Inclusion is about far more than just infrastructure and programmes—it demands a deep cultural shift rooted in recognition, respect, and visibility. The path will not be easy, but the examples we have seen show that meaningful change is not only possible, it is already underway—for those ready to commit to making it happen.
Safe, inclusive active travel is not a luxury or an add-on—it is a vital, non-negotiable step toward transport justice. Inclusion must be embedded in the DNA of our mobility systems and communities, not treated as a side project or afterthought—the future of our cities depends on it.
