Being gay seems to grant my friends permission to give me touchy feeling greeting cards, which I gushingly, gaily, gratefully accept. One of my favourite cards was one that said something to the effect of, “It is not the big choices in life that make us who we are, it is the small ones.”
This idea has stayed with me because it speaks to the beauty of small things, the power of banality and the amazing arithmetic of nuance. It also lends itself to be a meditation on this new age we have entered, one of nano, micro and local. In the post-9/11 world we have begun to remember the local in the face of the global, have become more aware of the interconnection of both, and seem to have chosen to focus on the intimate in place of the monolithic.
The rise of craft sales, organic food and dialogue around cities and identity are all manifestations of our need to grasp and grab the known world around us as a way of dealing with or blocking out the rest of the world which is beyond our reach and immediate control.
As we begin to take the small steps to see what is around us, a new appreciation emerges, and with that comes a sense of ownership and pride. On the flip side, we also see things that are unjust or that we think ought to change or improve. The more local we look, the more we see our own capacity to affect change. Once we have a sense of agency and responsibility for our actions, we begin to exercise our duties as a citizen.
As a gay citizen it is interesting for me to consider my own role in all of this. Michael Phair gave a speech last year at an LGBT human rights conference where he spoke about the “queering of cities” and the idea that, as people from within the community, we have a chance to consider how we can reconcile our queer identities with our citizenship, thus creating change in our cities.
I wasn’t 100 per cent sure what he meant, but before long I found myself a part of Exposure: Edmonton’s Queer Arts and Culture Festival, and was being supplied with answers at every turn.
A few weeks before that speech Phair had invited some people to city hall to discuss the possibility and feasibility of putting together a queer festival. The enthusiasm in the room eventually lead to the creation of a steering committee and from there Exposure was off and running. I feel lucky that I heard the queering cities speech because it put Phair’s vision in context. Exposure is an opportunity for members of the queer community to think about their contribution to the city, and allow for all Edmontonians to consider the contribution of queer people to the city. It is hard to conceive of a modern, cultured city that does not have an active queer community, and Exposure is a way for people to see that Edmonton is no exception.
Something that I think we as Edmontonians take for granted is—as the multi-involved Kris Wells puts it on the wall of a new Facebook group called “For those who think being a GLBT in Edmonton, AB does NOT SUCK”—”Edmonton is a hotbed for LGBTQ activism.”
He’s right. Ever since the Pieces bathhouse was raided, Darrin Hagen moved his high heels and curlers to Edmonton, Phair got elected, Womenspace had their first potluck, someone from Making Waves put on a Speedo, Kristy Harcourt first gave advice and Trevor Anderson picked up a camera (or a set of drumsticks for that matter), Queermontonians have been active.
Exposure is the natural progression. Be it through the Fringe or CariWest, Edmonton groups have a long tradition of gaining attention by putting on a festival and, never a group to willingly be ignored, we homos are no different.
The Exposure festival carves out a space and place where queerness, regardless of how one defines the word, can be contemplated, debated and celebrated by all Edmontonians through the lens of art and culture.
One thing that I have realized through my involvement with Exposure is that most people do not aspire to be an artist or an activist. They do not wake up in the morning and think about their role as a citizen, queer or straight. Sure one might make a choice to buy local but it’s not knowingly a political act. Most people are concerned with making car payments and paying their taxes, trying not to break laws, giving to charity when they can, all the while attempting to carve a life out for themselves in the city.
When one is able to do this, all while being gay, then I think as a community we have begun achieving what Phair was talking about. By being ourselves no matter how loud or banal we might be, we queer the city. By participating in Exposure, be it as an artist, volunteer, donor or audience member, one is in a small way flexing their Edmonton queer citizen muscle and, as we know, that is what changes the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment