On stage at a recent gig in New York, Gil Scott Heron complained that the designation of February as Black History Month was just another example of black people getting short changed: having oppressed them for centuries through slavery and exploitation, the system now conspires to cut short their heritage celebrations by consigning them to the shortest month of the year. Though only half-serious, Heron’s rye musings are indicative of a certain scepticism with which some have come to regard ‘minority’ history months.

Now in only its fourth year, LGBT history month, founded by anti-homophobic campaigners as a conscious attempt to emulate the success of B.H.M. in tackling racism, has thus far emerged unscathed from the sort of charges often directed at the former. By the same token, however, it has received relatively little reflective comment within the mainstream about its value.

If the latter may appear self-evident to many LGBT activists and those politically engaged in anti-homophobic struggles, a number of questions are likely to be asked given the general feeling of fatigue that now prevails with regard to multiculturalism and the ‘race relations’ industry. LGBT history month, in some measure, owes its existence to (and is inevitably often associated with) the latter, having gained much of its early momentum from the Equality Impact Assessments that followed on from the Race Relations Amendment Act of 2002 following the Lawrence enquiry.

Nor is cynicism directed at LGBT history month likely to stem solely from ‘outsiders’. Many of those who practice same-sex relationships socialise in and out of the ‘gay scene’ all year round without feeling any need to reflect on their status as part of a historically oppressed group. Far from feeling marginalised, the current ‘post-section 28’ generation has arguably not known discrimination of the kind that their predecessors suffered, and have in many ways established themselves as the vanguard of mainstream cultural and artistic production.

It seems valid to ask, in this context, whether in this, the era of civil partnerships and same-sex adoption, along with the arrival of gay art and subculture within the mainstream, LGBT history month is in fact fighting battles that have largely been won, and whether the sort of identity politics and ideologically-driven history-telling it represents hark back to a bygone era of sexual segregation?

Such assumptions, as argued by those on the front line in the ongoing battle against homophobia, are premised upon on a deeply misguided complacency that flies in the face all ground realities. LGBT history month co-founder Paul Patrick, an anti-homophobic activist and campaigner for equality since the 1970s, makes the point that homophobic bullying (against gay and straight children) is in fact at all time high due to the increased visibility of some aspects of gay life in society without a corresponding increase in understanding and knowledge of the issues surrounding sexual orientation.

The lack of queer-conscious sex education in schools has been equally damaging, according to consultant in Public Health medicine, Doctor Justin Varney, who spoke at the launch of Southwark’s February program: gay and lesbian populations face specific mental and physical health challenges, not least of which those which derive from homophobia, which is a common cause of anxiety, depression and high suicide rates. The ongoing AIDS epidemic amongst gay men is only part of a much wider story; recent evidence suggests, for example, that teenage pregnancy rates are higher amongst lesbians than their heterosexual counterparts, a likely consequence of the disengagement of queer youth from hetero-sexist sex education classes, and the confusion that stems from pressure to confirm with heterosexist norms.

Nor have issues of cultural representation been satisfactorily resolved, despite appearances: if homosexuality, these days, is seldom represented as deviant within popular culture and the media, the mainstream’s representation of LGBT life through shows like Will and Grace as the preserve of white, young, affluent, confident and urbane professionals leading materialistic and glamorous existences is less a sign of progress than conditional acceptance; homosexuals acquire visibility but only as entertainers and minstrels: sharp witted, larger-than-life, apolitical and untouched by homophobia. The queer everyday, as Time Out editor Paul Burston recently wrote, is not yet considered to be of general interest, a fact reflected in the difficulty that gay and lesbian fiction writers face in getting their novels reviewed.

Against this backdrop, the abundance of oral testimonial life history talks by ‘ordinary’ people included within the events program this year start to make sense. Far from being confessional, touchy-feely or indulgent, personal biographies are a rich source of queer sub-cultural social history which, having been forced underground for much of the modern period, remains largely undocumented. The act of narrating one’s story of coming out on a public stage, moreover, serves an important function within the queer public sphere: symbolically breaking free of the shackles of shame that have compelled queer people to cloak love and desire in secrecy, whilst forging an atmosphere of solidarity that encourages those whose have not yet come out to draw inspiration.

Herein lies a key specificity of LGBT history, which, unlike ethnic, ‘racial’ and other oppressed minority heritage, is not passed down through families in traditions, languages and customs. As musician and activist Tom Robinson explained at the Lambeth launch, the realisation of being gay can be a profoundly lonely existence for teenagers: unlike the black or Asian child that experiences racism, lesbians and gays cannot necessarily turn to parents with first experience of homophobia, or for advice on coming out and dealing with its consequences.

Attending this year’s openings speaking to event organisers, one gets a definite sense that an older generation of activists such as Robinson is effectively reaching out to what it sees as its own children. The will to preserve and transmit the memory of their struggles and their experiences is borne, that is to say, of a protective, parental instinct to shield young gay people today from the kinds of discrimination that they endured; to provide them with the courage to overcome bigotry where it confronts them through documenting queer agency and resistance to civil inequalities throughout the Thatcher years and before.

The response from local government has been uneven, however, with some authorities engaging more than others. Southwark, Islington, Lambeth and Camden appear to be particular LGBT History strongholds. This is no doubt due in large measure to the rich heritage of queer activism within these boroughs, which appear to have developed a healthy competitive spirit for leading the example in terms of the number and quality of events organised. Camden may well have done enough to win the award for 2008 with an impressive list of imaginative and informative events, talks and film showings. Its success is in large measure a product of determined fundraising drive and outreach activities by director of Camden LGBT Forum, Lou Hart. Both of which were shaped by a concerted effort to be inclusive of bi and trans communities, elements of which have felt their inclusion in previous years to have been tokenistic.

More generally, the extent to which internal differences and the issue of ‘compound diversity’ within the LGBT community is being confronted is striking. Discrimination against disability, ageism and racism have been highlighted respectively by Regard, Polari and Rukus, all of which represent LGBT populations that face prejudice from outside and within the LGBT community. Founder of Rukus Ajamu X is at pains to point out the subtle racism behind the commonly made assumption that black people are uniquely and uniformly prone to virulent homophobia. At the same time, Outside Edge, the exhibition he has curated at the Museum in Docklands on the history of the black gay and lesbian experience in Britain does not shy away from representing the specific forms homophobia manifest in Caribbean Dancehall music lyrics.

The success of Outside Edge in documenting the specific history of queer black subculture, activism and public meetings with rare flyers to club nights, conferences and newsletters dating back to 1980 is a good example of how LGBT month has diversified in its scope with its expansion since being set up. Sue Sanders, founder of the month, confesses it has taken off beyond her own expectations: what began as a website listing 100 events in 2005 developed into a list of over 800 in 2007.

If tokenism is perceived as a danger with minority history months, evidence suggests that many LGBT organisations that operate all year round generally find it useful to showcase, acquire funding for and focus their activities within a co-ordinated period of intense and widely publicised activity. A thirty year-old lesbian discussion group at Gay’s the Word bookshop, now run by Joan Ballington, has welcomed the opportunity to benefit from structured, well-researched educational talks (including one organised by Rukus). Paul Burston, who is putting on an LGBT literary event as part of this year’s program, recently wrote that History month galvanised him into acting upon what might otherwise have remained a fantasy rather than a concrete idea.

Perhaps the defining feature of this year’s program, however, is the growing interest from mainstream organisations in participating. The Petrie Museum, which approached Camden with the idea to run an event this year, is a case in point. The Novas Gallery, which is showcasing the work of gifted LGBT artists who received little or no formal training or art education, is another. Small and medium size galleries appear to have spotted an opportunity to attract visitors drawn by the freshness of diversity and sexuality as a theme.

Equally significant is the belated arrival on the scene of big national institutions like the Imperial War Museum and, at long last, the V & A, which ran a series of talks last weekend that began the work of reinterpreting its collections through the prism of queer social history. Oliver Winchester, Chair of the LGBT working Party at the Museum, asserts that the current generation of curators is increasingly savvy with respect to queer cultural theory as developed in academic research.

A remarkable Saturday afternoon talk by Chris Breward, the gallery’s Head of Research and a leading historian of fashion, skilfully drew together the various links between aesthetics, gender, class and sexual identity through a discussion of men’s and women’s suits and dresses. The collections, he demonstrated, can be analysed at multiple levels to think about LGBT identity: through consideration of the garments themselves, and their social importance for the people that would have worn them, but also in terms of the designers’ own sexual orientations and desires.

The success with which queer cultural theory can be used to place LGBT history at the centre of mainstream heritage raises the question of whether or not the exciting prospect of an LGBT museum, as advocated by Jack Gilbert of Proud Heritage, should necessarily be a priority for London. The exponential growth of LGBT History month would seem to provide evidence, on the one hand, that the establishment of such a museum is inevitable and highly marketable. On the other, it could be argued that talks such as Breward’s demonstrate that the way forward is, rather, to reinterpret existing collections, grounding the history of sexual orientation in a broader story that encompasses ‘race’, gender, social class and other ways of organising society.

The two are not necessarily incompatible, of course. As with the debates that surround Black History Month in the US and the UK, however, such questions are likely to become more controversial and pressing as agendas proliferate and clash. For the time being though, LGBT History month appears to have done more enough to keep cynicism at bay: over 1000 events are expected to be posted on the central website this February – not bad going for the shortest month of year.