Happy Pride!

June is Pride month, a time to celebrate diversity, recognise achievements, reflect on history, and an opportunity to peacefully protest and raise political awareness of current issues facing the community. Usually thousands of people from all over the world come to Toronto to attend the month-long parties, parades and festivities, but this years’ event, like every other festival is cancelled and being celebrated virtually.

 

The Pride and Remembrance run was also cancelled and unfortunately the organisers were not able to continue with it virtually, so I decided to organize my own 10 kilometre solo virtual Pride Run and donate to LGBT Youth Line in Canada which offers confidential and non-judgemental peer support through telephone, text and chat services. Although they aren’t counsellors, they are peers who can relate, and have been trained in active listening and relevant knowledge such as anti-oppression, anti-racism, sex and consent, STIs, HIV, self-care, and more.

 

I also donated to the The Trevor Project, an organisation that provides crisis and suicide prevention services to the LGBTQ youth in The United States. Trevor provides valuable resources to young people nationwide who may not have anywhere else to turn to for help. LGBTQ youth are more at risk of suicide than their straight peers. In Canada, they are 5 times more likely to consider suicide and 7 times more likely to attempt suicide.

 

 My virtual race took place on Sunday June 28^th, the same day as the Pride Parade. It’s been a few years since I’ve run a 10 kilometre race because I have been focusing on longer distances. I got up early to avoid the hot weather and crowds and headed to Taylor Creek trail. As the kilometres ticked by I reflected on my own personal journey.

 

I am legally married to the women I fell in love with; we adopted a child together; we bought a home together; and we both work in environments free from harassment. Neither Trish nor I have had to deal with violence or hate due to our relationship, but we also pass under the radar of most homophobes since we both look like two straight cisgender women. Most think we are just sisters, which while I hate, it can work in our favour at times we want to remain inconspicuous. I took Trish’s last name to safe guard against any bigotry if we travelled to another country that didn’t recognize our marriage. At the very least we could pretend we were related if we needed to, in order to stay safe. Because we aren’t always safe—even in 2020.

 

There are sometimes awkward conversations with people asking for my husband, or we’ve had people ask us which one of us is Cilla’s real mom.  I’ve also had a student quit when they found out I was married to a woman. It saddens me to know that there are people out there with such narrow-minded beliefs, but it does make my job easier when they show themselves the door.

 

When I was in my 20’s and had a shaved head, I remember all the controversy it created.  People would come up to me and say, “I didn’t know whether to call you sir, or ma’am.” I’ve also been called a ‘c-nt’ and been told to ‘grow your hair, bitch.’ Anywhere I went someone seemed to have an opinion about my hair. One time when I was walking to the grocery store a car full of people yelled something I couldn’t hear out their window. Next thing I knew they pulled a u-ie, came back and stopped right in front of me. I was terrified.  No one else was around and I felt extremely vulnerable. They started yelling and swearing at me. Their behaviour was beyond aggressive. For the first time in my life I was afraid for my life. I didn’t say a word for fear of further antagonizing them.  I thought that my life might be over.   All because I had a shaved head.

 

I’ve been lucky to have supportive parents, family members and friends. My parents owned a small community newspaper and when same-sex marriage was becoming legalized, someone came into the office with a letter to the editor stating his vile opinion on the matter.  My mom refused to print it—she wasn’t going to perpetuate the hate and pretty much threw him out the office. But not everyone is lucky to have a loving, supportive family and some find themselves kicked out of their homes at a young age and forced to live on the street.  All because of who they are.

 

 Recently, our neighbours to the south have been issued a devastating blow by the bully who calls himself president. On the 4 year anniversary of the mass shooting inside Pulse, a gay nightclub in Orlando Florida where 49 people were killed, and just days after two black transgender women were murdered, Trump announced that he was rolling back healthcare protections for transgender patients. The rule will impact transgender patients’ ability to fight discrimination by doctors, medical facilities and health insurance providers. The timing was not coincidental.

 

And while Canada is considered one of the most gay-friendly countries in the world, a 2014 research study in Ontario found that 20% of trans people had been physically or sexually assaulted for being trans, and another 34% had been verbally threatened or harassed. The same report found that 57% of trans people living in Ontario had avoided public washrooms out of fear for their safety.

 

And even though members of Canada's LGBTQ community feel their sexual orientation is generally accepted among their families and friends, almost 75 per cent report they've been bullied at some point in their life.

 

After 55 minutes of running, I crossed my imaginary finish line, sweaty, tired and sore. But even though my race may be finished, our fight for equality is not. While we have made great strides to be where we are now, there is still so much more work to be done. We should all have the right to feel safe for who we are and who we fall in love with. It’s not a choice. It’s not a lifestyle. It’s a human right.