[Editor’s note: Some names have been changed to protect the identities of our sources.]

For reasons unknown to myself, they see this call-to-arms against prejudice as a personal attack. It’s possible they simply hate women, queer people, and people of color—that they’re simply bigots. Or maybe they’re so entrenched in the “beer is a boys club” mentality that they feel threatened. Regardless, this mindset is both damaging and toxic to our industry.

Being a woman in a male-dominated industry is often a challenge at best, and demeaning, degrading, and enraging at worst. But being a trans woman in the beer industry throws a whole different set of issues—transmisogyny, transphobia, erasure, to name a few—on top of the cocktail of sexism and misogyny my cis sisters also face on a day-to-day basis. I’m not merely trying to raise awareness of other queer and trans people who work in the beer industry. I’m also trying to point out that I’m in a somewhat unique position to comment on sexism: I lived for just shy of two decades of my life being perceived as male before transition.

The article that sparked this iteration of the debate was focused on U.S. breweries and their pretty appalling use of social media via “unofficial” accounts. In response to the idea that a few sexist, misogynistic, and homophobic posts on a few unofficial Instagram accounts isn’t symptomatic or representative of the wider industry, I’d argue that it absolutely is. If high-profile breweries such as these can create open Instagram accounts, with clear links to the breweries themselves, and either not receive a backlash necessary enough to dissuade them from continuing, or not be given instructions to stop by their superiors, then I would argue that there’s a pervasive issue at play.

One of the most alarming parts of articles like this one has been the response. As opposed to recognizing the issue at hand and accepting responsibility, many of the responders’ instincts have been to react aggressively, lashing out like guilty children having a tantrum. Nothing is more symptomatic of a problem than such a vehement defense of the perpetrator or perpetrators without addressing the actual issue.

I can only speak for the British industry and only from my own experience when I say that the beer industry is one rife with sexism. From day-to-day microaggressions to blatant misogyny, I’d be amazed to find any woman working in our industry who hasn’t dealt with these issues. Lack of trust in knowledge or recommendations, ignorance, exclusion, unwanted sexual advances, lechery, harassment, even assault: the list of what women not only deal with—but have to deflect, ignore, or even smile in response to, sometimes being told “it’s not worth it”—goes on, often internalizing the idea that it “comes with the territory” and is simply “part of the job.” It doesn’t, it isn’t, it should never be.

It should also not be the sole responsibility of women, queer people, or people of color to educate those who offend and oppress them. In order for sexism to be dealt with, men need to educate themselves, begin to unlearn internalized misogyny (which is, itself, a difficult task), and then act on it. Seeing and experiencing this kind of behavior near-constantly is exhausting. Someone else should shoulder some of the responsibility.

Since living “as a woman,” the difference in how I’ve been treated has been hugely noticeable. When I was read as male, my opinions were worth more than those of my female colleagues. I was trusted more, I was given more respect, and I was rarely spoken over. Whilst I was in a position in which I was acutely aware of my male privilege, others are not. I believe privilege is one of the starting points at which to begin to combat sexism (amongst myriad other social issues).

However, since being read as female (and when not, transphobic comments and misgendering are all too common), it’s a similar experience to that of my former female colleagues.

“During my time at [London Bar/Distributor chain] The Bottle Shop, I was frequently given preference above my female coworkers when customers wanted to ask about a beer,” Alecks, a duty manager at various BrewDog bars who identifies as non-binary, says. “Even if I was just sitting at the edge, off-shift and drinking, even if I wasn’t being asked, I would be looked to for validation of said coworkers ‘recommendation’ as if we hadn’t employed this person who loves beer to sell beer.”

When this happened, Alecks would respond that their colleague was as knowledgeable as them, quickly resolving an uncomfortable situation whilst undermining that act of sexism.

Gender is not the only issue at play, either. I’ve never been exposed to as much homophobia as I have when working behind a bar. I used to identify as a queer male. I was bullied at secondary school for my sexuality and I felt less disgusted by that as I do the amount of homophobia I’ve experienced working in pubs and bars. It’s rarely outright homophobic hate speech, or verbal attacks, but the “harmless banter” from both behind the bar and in front.