‘I would be horrified to find out that a man could not kiss his boyfriend at my bar,” says Matthew Glass, the general manager at The Bank Ultra Lounge.
It’s a bold and unequivocal statement considering that last spring a widely circulated Facebook post pegged the Jasper Avenue bar as the scene of an altercation between the bar’s bouncers and two men trying to get in for a drink.
Glass is adamant that the incident, which allegedly involved homophobic remarks, the threat of violence and the directing of the men to a gay bar, was nothing more than a misunderstanding.
“It didn’t occur the way it was stated, it was misrepresented,” he says. “To be blunt, we don’t care who you are. What we consider is will you fit in, age, the way you’re dressed, are you there to have a good time?”
When asked if the bouncers have special diversity training to help them deal with the wide range of customers they may encounter, Glass isn’t as definitive.
“I am not sure what that training would be. In the end we believe that people should be treated with respect. We do what we can to create a safe environment.”
While what really happened that night wasn’t fully resolved—the two men never lodged a complaint with the police—it illustrates that in a city that lost its only pansexual nightclub, the Roost, last year, the lack of choices for queer nightlife is causing problems for many.
Concern about safety in the city’s nightlife hotspots, which has led to the city implementing measures such as alcohol restrictions and the installation of surveillance cameras, combined with still-too-common homophobia makes the plight of the queer club-goer even more precarious.
Recently relocating to the city from Toronto, Jamie Miller recognized that the queer scene in Edmonton needed a change. The dearth of queer clubs in the city—and the fears about safety and acceptance that comes with it—was part of the motivation behind Uplift, a promotions and entertainment business he founded to throw monthly parties called Pure, intended to be safe, fun places for gays—as well as people who are unsure about their sexuality—to go and feel comfortable.
“There are hundreds of closeted gay guys here that are afraid to come out,” Miller says. “Unless they want to stand under a big rainbow on Jasper Avenue, there’s no place for them to go.”
Breaking down the straight bar/gay bar divide is the thinking behind holding Pure events at locales that don’t specifically cater to gays—the next one, planned for Jul 19, is at Velvet Underground.
“Those guys need to get from point A to point B without being noticed, [so] by having our parties in predominantly straight venues they find a safe place they can go.”
Miller adds that while having LGBT events in straight venues also helps break some of the stereotypes that can lead to situations like the one at The Bank, many owners still need convincing.
“In a city that has a narrow idea of what gay is it can make it difficult to convince a venue owner to let their space be used for a gay event,” Miller says.
He recalls the experience at the Rouge Lounge, which hosted the Jun 14 Pure: Pride event. Located across from the buildings that house Woody’s, Buddy’s, Steamworks Bathhouse and Pride Video, the owner was nervous about being seen as a gay bar and was hesitant to host the event. But as the night progressed, Miller says there was a transformation.
“He was seeing all his regulars and he didn’t know they were gay. Then his plumber walks in and that was it, he was blown away,” relates Miller. “It’s these moments of realization that change the culture and help Edmontonions see that gay life is more than what they typically see, and that there is more to life than the Oilers, the UFC and trucks. Life can include seeing two men holding hands.”
Constable Tim Horon of the Edmonton Police Service Hate Crimes division thinks that we have already come a long way in our city, noting that he hasn’t seen a rise in LGBT-related complaints in the last year.
“Certainly we have a ways to go, but look at the Pride parade this year: it was the largest attendance the city has ever seen. I think our city is becoming more tolerant of alternative lifestyles. Typically we find this among young people who are bringing a more diverse point of view than ever before.”
For Horon—who, along with other members of the Edmonton Police Service, has worked with the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Queer Liaison Committee to ensure they have a better understanding of queer culture—sexual orientation isn’t the biggest concern when it comes to nightlife safety.
“Whenever you have alcohol involved, homosexual or heterosexual, the chance of an incident becomes higher. As we approach it, there’s just as much of a chance of violent incident between two gay males.”
More proof that the lines between gay and straight nightlife are beginning to blur is bars like the Empress Ale House hosting gay-friendly nights. Beers for Queers, first conceived as a one-time-only event during Pride Week, will likely be a regular occurrence if organizer Sean Thompson—who says he has long craved a place to go near his southside home to just grab a beer and feel comfortable—has his way.
“Rainbows and disco balls have their place, but when it’s your only option it gets old fast,” he says, adding that events like his and Pure go a long way in making the LGBT scene safer and more accepted.
“A lot of gays aren’t sure that they want to make the trip to Whyte Ave at night. Having a patio full of queers on Whyte shows the public that being gay is OK in Edmonton.”
No comments:
Post a Comment