You can sit (in) with us!

Think what you like about the demands made by Black Lives Matter – Toronto, the honoured group in 2016’s Pride Toronto parade. (I think the list ranges from “of course” to unfair; that’s my cis white male opinion.)

But their mid-parade 30-some-minute sit-in near the media area was a perfectly appropriate piece of street theatre. Perhaps even a welcome gesture, if you don’t factor in the increased rates of heat stroke and sunburn along the route and the risk of making the Prancing Elites late for their performance.

Politics in the Pride parade? Who would have thunk? But just how did Prime Minister Justin pass the time waiting for the Black Lives Matter sit-in to end?

Parades—Toronto’s Pride parades in particular—are platforms for speech, performance, self expression, unexplainable dancing styles and wardrobe choices, community awareness, celebration, politics and everything in between. The whole thing is a jumble of performances that may or may not make sense or be effective individually or as a whole.

The Pride parade has never been curated, though there have always been sources of tension about what should be included and what shouldn’t be.

To the extent the parade adopts a theme, enforcing it is untenable. Who wanted to police the “Bursting with Fruit Flavours” theme back in 2004? (This year’s theme, You Can Sit with Us!, was clever, but perhaps unbearable for nonconfirmists who don't want or need the cool kids’ permission to take a seat.) If a parade entry is uplifting and inspiring, that’s fantastic. If it’s challenging or even nonsensical, that’s fine too. This year’s edition provided my most intense and most meaningful parade-watching experience so far. When the names of the people murdered in Orlando’s Pulse nightclub—just plain little signs with names and ages—were carried down Yonge Street, I cried. I didn’t want to or expect to, but I did.

In 2004, the Raelian group was required to cover parts of signs featuring a picture of the Pope (JP II) and text like, “Official sponsor of AIDS.” Though naked marchers were arrested in 2003, they have been for the most part welcome in the parade, despite years when they were asked if they really, really, really had to bare all. For seven years, the group Queers Against Israeli Apartheid (QuAIA) was the wound in the parade that would not heal. People wanted them out and they wouldn't leave. After years of debate and acrimony, Pride ended up creating a dispute-resolution process that affirmed that QuAIA could march, despite real threats to revoke Pride’s city funding if they were not given the boot.

Perhaps the biggest get-out-of-jail-free card handed to Pride executive director Mathieu Chantelois when he took over in 2015 was QuAIA’s announcement that they weren’t interested in marching anymore.  Whew! Controversy off the table! Done and done! Let the good times roll!

And then the sit-in.

What’s not suitable for a Pride parade? My first test is: Is the entry composed of queer people expressing something, or allies expressing something queer? For Black Lives Matter, the answer is most definitely yes.

I have written before about how boring the Pride Toronto parade has become—and remains. So the second and final test: Is it boring?

Well, many spectators would say that standing in the hot sun watching the same float or, more likely, the same uncostumed marching contingent of bankers for a half hour while a protest and negotiations take place is a textbook definition of boring. But only if they have failed to let their minds ponder larger issues and themes.

Watching a parade is usually about catching quick glimpses of eye candy. We love a float because it’s creative or the people on it are sexy and talented and fun to watch—for a few seconds. But when those seconds expand to minutes, we grow antsy. First, we don’t know what’s going on, and complain about the quality of marshalling.

Then someone says there’s a sit-in. Now the event is theatre. It’s not random bits of delight anymore. It’s a larger, more cohesive narrative that someone has brought to the cacophony. A story has been imposed.

This show is not in front of you. It’s all around you, like in plays where the actors leave the stage to wander amidst and interact with the audience. In this case, not literally. But suddenly the actors have framed your experience in a way that’s completely unexpected, that brings you into the story. Like a piece of conceptual art, the sit-in was a frame focusing attention.

Focusing on what? Firstly, I suppose, on our feelings. Intrigue, annoyance, validation, indignation, solidarity, you name it. Radical art means to get in your head. For parade watchers, it was boring non-boringness or non-boring boredom. It was as boring as the conversations we were having as it unfolded. That, much more than the presence of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, made the 2016 parade unique and memorable—a true achievement.

Whether spectators took the 30 minutes to think of the experience of Black Lives in Toronto, Canada and around the world, whether they thought about how Black Lives are policed or their relationship to Pride Toronto… maybe they didn’t. But a frame of reference was created, regardless of what spectators saw in it.

That’s theatre, and theatre belongs in a parade. Hence the ostentatious TV-camera-ready feathered pen Chantelois was given to sign the list of demands. It’s a stylized prop in a show within a show.

Politically, the sit-in was astute. Maybe not in the hot sweaty moment, but in the days and weeks of debate that will follow. Black Lives Matter­ – Toronto has created a large-scale conceptual frame for their issues. They turned something as ephemeral as a parade into something longer lasting. What’s the point of being given the power that comes with being honoured and not doing anything with it?

Some gay men and others have described the sit-in like it was a hostile act. “LGBT people would never stop the Caribana parade to protest homophobia.” Um, why not? Well, we got beat to it and would have to think of something else. The sit-in is a hard act to follow.

It’s not war—people get killed in those—it’s play, a much preferable and more parade-friendly substitute. Something can be playful and serious at the same time.

Yet there’s a larger political risk for Black Lives Matters organizers.

’Cause, when you give theatre, you usually get theatre back. 

Fully Furnished

I met David Furnish at the Hazelton Hotel in Toronto's Yorkville and staff seemed to have no idea he was something of a big thing--we got bounced around a bit trying to get seated and had to firmly ask for a corner table even though the inside of the hotel restaurant was mid-afternoon empty.

Furnish was honest and humble. I think being chosen as parade marshal in his hometown had made him reflective about his life's journey from Scarborough to LA/Windsor/Etc. But I would say that our interaction was pretty formal until my prepared questions ended and we started talking about the cult Canadian musician Jane Siberry. I had interviewed her in 1996 for a Vancouver magazine I was editing; he had interviewed her the same year for Interview magazine, when her album Teenager came out.

We both agreed that she has cleared the way for the commercial success of the many female Canadian singer-songwriters who had followed (especially Sarah McLachlan). Even though Furnish had already talked to me in great detail about how he and Elton John parent their two kids, it seemed like his enthusiasm for Siberry was our first totally unguarded moment.

When you're married to one of the world's most famous men, I suppose, you probably welcome moments where you can speak about something with passion, where that passion won`t likely end up in the tabloid headlines.

Read the exclusive IN magazine here.
interview

Somebody's gotta do something about Toronto's Pride "Parade" (and what I think they should do)

Like dinner guests too polite to say the chicken's overcooked and the potatoes are inedible, Torontonians cheerfully show up year after year to see the city's annual Pride parade. But after this year's six-hour WorldPride non-spectacle, it's time to pull the hosts into the kitchen for a few words.

WorldPride, on the whole, was great. Pride Toronto promised big and delivered big, with a panache that seemed almost effortless. It takes amazing talent and dedication to pull off an event of this size and the Pride Toronto team has both. As to the locals who said things like, "WorldPride doesn't seem that much bigger than a regular Pride," I would point out that they probably had failed to change their own Pride habits to take in the whole 10-day festival. There's only so many people you can fit on Church Street; those who wandered off it were bound to be impressed. Every visitor I talked to had nothing but good things to say.

As someone who has followed the planning of WorldPride from the beginning, I can also say that it's astonishing it happened at all. There were several changes in Pride Toronto management and board approach and philosophy since the idea first emerged in 2006--yes, eight years ago. The fact that the WorldPride idea outlasted politics, both internal and external, tells you how good an idea it was. Unlike in other cities, Toronto's Pride celebrations always seem to transcend back-room drama, Any factionalism seems to, in the long run, produce a better event.

I will write more about these WorldPride successes in the future.

But back to the WorldPride parade. Or should I say the WorldPride march.

Having watched almost every parade, from beginning to end, since 2000 (I missed it two years ago when I was at WorldPride in London--let me tell you about THAT some day), I can tell you that Toronto's parade has been dull for some time. For budgetary or other reasons, the quality of the entries peaked in the early 2000s and has dwindled ever since. Few floats, not enough music, not enough planning in the entries, not enough inspiration and flair. Some much perfunctory, so little perfection.

Although there are always some spectacular exceptions (I won't risk leaving someone out by naming any of these stars), the bar has become quite low for creativity and craftsmanship (as a gentleman, I won't name these offenders either). For most entrants, a marching contingent with flags and Mardi Gras beads seems to be enough. God bless their hearts, but I have to say that as a spectator, standing in the hot sun, forgoing many other fun Pride activities, it's not enough.

It's nice that entrants are proud LGBTTIQQ2S or straight people supportive of the same. I love good intentions. But a parade is a parade, not a petition. It's a show! It's theatre! It's sensation and glitz! It's brazen and bold! It's emotional! It's quite possibly shocking! And, despite some exceptions, the Toronto parade is none of that. It is a march, punctuated by an occasional float and an occasional burst of music. It is a march that's bigger than the Trans March and less exhilarating than the Dyke March. But it's a march. The grand marshals, international guests and PFLAG have earned the public good will to get away with merely marching. For everyone else, it's just not enough.

And this year's WorldPride "parade" was... drum roll... more than six hours long. I gave up early. Most spectators did. It was hot. There are lots of other things to do. And, after a while, one union waving rainbow flags looks like one group of politicos waving rainbow flags. Unless you know the individual people marching--and most spectators do not--it's boring, boring, boring. A show of popular support and mass mobilization? Sure. But a show of how fabulous queer people are? Not quite.

When organizers promised an "enhanced" parade this year, I got my hopes up. But it seems "enhanced" was just code for "unbearably long."

The march of nations was a great idea. But the activists from around the world marched in silence, as if the only appropriate tone was reverent awe, not the joy Pride is supposed to foster. Where was the "Rise Up" theme song? As international delegation was followed by more and more marching contingents, their presence did not stand out as much as it should have. It was a missed opportunity.

But I am not a critic without suggestions. Here's how to fix the parade.

Each parade applicant--corporate or community, big group or small--will be asked to to have at least one "feature" in their entry. What a "feature" is is up for debate (some people might include "shirtlessness and sex appeal" but I wouldn't be so crass). But I would suggest a list that starts something like this:

- A float, that is, a decorated elevated platform on which participants can perform (note the word "perform" as opposed to, say, "stand listlessly")
- Live or recorded music, ideally chosen to represent the spirit of the entry
- Choreography
- Creative and/or matching costumes
- A novelty performance (eg, clown on stilts; drag queens acting out comedic vignettes) or novelty object (eg, confetti canon)
- Etc.

But wait, you say! You can't stop people from going in the Pride parade! Just because someone hasn't an ounce of creativity or the budget for a couple of dollar-store pompoms doesn't mean they can't show their pride! That's censorship! That's uninclusive!

But Pride applicants who don't have 20 minutes to come up with a little dance or a group cheer or some little joke that might provide delight to spectators, can indeed participate. Under my rules, they just follow all the groups who made a special effort to have a "feature." Their march will seamlessly immediately follow the actual parade. If spectators drift away after the transition, they have at least seen the best of the community.

For participants who don't like this two-tiered arrangement, it's an easy fix. Make an effort.

Under my system, if the real parade is 20 minutes and the march is five hours, that's fine--it'll be a great 20 minutes. And if it's six hours of parade and no marching contingents at all, then, at last, that's an afternoon well spent.

A successful parade isn't about body count. It's a demonstration of the vibrancy and creativity of a community. Numbers matter in elections, not in fabulousness.

Bad habits are not malice (or: Why I’m pretty sure Pride Toronto didn’t sabotage the world’s biggest Trans March)

I found this piece on Vice.com about Toronto’s Trans March, which resulted in this response from Toronto Pride, to contain much more than its fair share of conspiracy theory. The discussion I've heard around it has been interesting, but many of the allegations don't quite ring true.

Historically, activists will argue, Pride Toronto’s enthusiasm for increased trans visibility at the week-long festival has been less than stellar. I accept that. But there’s a big difference between institutional lethargy and the kind of malice Nicki Ward ascribes to Pride Toronto. Misdirection and underhandedness? Sabotage? Let’s not get hysterical here.

(Background note: I used to work with Nicki at (now defunct) fab magazine. I worked in editorial, she in advertising. I found her to be a friendly and supportive colleague, so I have no axe to grind and no horse in this race.)

As someone who mostly experiences the front end—not the planning itself, though I do hear some of the scuttlebutt—of Pride trans programming, I can say that it’s gotten dramatically better year over year and has drawn a much wider audience and a much higher level of public engagement. This year’s efforts made a genuinely impressive impact—I agree with Nicki that it was a watershed year. Did I see all the messiness of how it came together? No. But there’s a point when grievances and missteps need to be left behind in order to celebrate the good will that’s been building.

As a layperson, I saw the Trans March given equal billing to the Dyke March, the Pride Parade and the Street Festival on the cover of the Official Pride Guide, on the map and within the guide itself. Considering the parade's starring role (whether you like it or not), that's not the action of an organization that wants to downplay trans programming. The parade’s international grand marshal—which seems to have become an even higher honour than regular ole’ grand marshal—was Marcela Romero, director of the Argentine Association of Transvestites, Transsexuals and Transgender People. Trans artists made up a notable part of the mix at three of the four Pride stages I visited (the Central Stage remains the almost exclusive domain of gay men who want to dance with their shirts off and the straight couples who love them).

As a spectator, Friday night’s Trans March blew me away with its size, energy and inclusiveness. It must have taken 15 to 20 minutes to pass; this year’s Dyke March took less than 40 minutes to pass. Based on pure population statistics, LGB will pretty much always outnumber T, so that’s an impressive comparison. The large number of trans allies in the march helped give it the heft it deserved. If such a march is about building bridges and showing community-wide unity against oppression—mission accomplished.

Would a corporate sponsor—which comes with built-in media attention and cash—have made the Trans March better? I’ll bet money nobody wants to go there.

It was certainly disappointing that the march got only one lane of traffic. It seemed to require a higher number of police officers (presumably because of the obviously increased safety risk) than otherwise necessary. But thinking back to the small group—maybe a couple of hundred people?—that scurried down a pedestrian-filled Church Street three years ago, the whole thing was inspiring. I’m sure the size of the march also surprised the city, which will have to rethink such one-lane closures.

I’ve emphasized my outsiderness to the Trans Pride issue for a reason. In her piece, Nicki’s core complaint is about visibility and media coverage. She blames Pride Toronto for nobody hearing about this watershed Trans March. I’m not sure the premise is true.

But even if it is, as any journalist who’s covered Pride knows, Pride Toronto organizers basically just stick a media pass in your hand and let you get on with your work of deciding for yourself what you want to cover. There was no “gushing” about the march because, during the Pride weekend, organizers don’t usually gush about anything. They answer questions lobbed at them by reporters in between running around, putting out fires. It’s in the lead-up to next year’s festival that you’ll hear Pride Toronto gushing (hopefully about how great the trans programming was this year). That's the way the news cycle works.

So if the question is: Why wasn’t there the media coverage of the Trans March that Nicki wanted? Then the answer is: Ask the media.

Mainstream Pride coverage has become hackneyed and predictable. New elements—in the case of the Trans March, newly prominent elements—don’t fit into the template. Since the 1990s, it’s been about hot guys on floats, colourful drag queens, excited tourists, Toronto’s welcoming attitudes and the revenue generated for the city. Plus a few personality profiles. Blinded by the sexy skin and riotous colour, it can take mainstream media editors years to register a change in the body politic.

Maybe this successful Trans March will make the mainstream media pay more attention next year. More likely it would take a perfect storm (like the 2003 Ontario Superior Court decision on same-sex marriage, which cranked up coverage of Pride that year) to grab headlines and draw major mainstream attention. Changing policies and procedures, tough as it is, is easier than changing long-ingrained attitudes.

It’s true that Pride Toronto itself can be a bit too enamoured of its own template. There are Pride DJ lineups—the simplest possible thing to shuffle—that haven’t changed in years. The template has carried Pride through tumultuous times, but the tension between predictability and reinvention is never as taut as it should be. It’s easy to imagine activists presenting Pride Toronto with new ideas and getting “Where are we going to put that?” as the first reaction. (Actually, that’s a scenario that’s easy to imagine at any small not-for-profit community-based organization.)

But it would be unfair to interpret excessive pragmatism as something meant to thwart trans activists. Sometimes the weight of habit is more difficult to fight against than malice. Sometimes a misprint is just a misprint.

What’s amazing is that, despite it all, Toronto pulled off what seems to have been the world’s biggest trans march. I’m betting that record will be broken soon—hopefully during Toronto’s own WorldPride in 2014.