Beginning in the 1970s, a small cadre of gay and lesbian activists helped set in motion remarkable political and social changes that have contributed to a more inclusive society today. The more we learned about their successes despite tremendous odds the more we wondered, “how did they manage to do it?” To find out, we sat down last summer with Tim McCaskell, long-time AIDS, anti-racism, and gay activist. He began by recounting his initiation into the gay liberation movement:
“In 1974 I saw an advertisement in [gay liberation periodical] The Body Politic inviting people to join a march starting at Allan Gardens to launch Gay Pride Week. I decided to go. When I arrived at the park where the march was to begin, I saw a group of people hanging around. When they were ready to march, I came out of hiding behind some trees, picked up a sign that read “gay liberation now,” and started walking.
After the march, I began reading gay liberation literature as quickly as I could. All of a sudden there was this political framework that made things make sense. It transformed my perspective of gays and lesbians from being rather abject creatures living in the shadows to a group spearheading a movement to change the world.”
McCaskell was careful to note that few then could feel empowered to join the movement. Like him, activists tended to be confined to a group of young, university educated individuals prepared to take risks. Interestingly, this group consisted almost entirely of people from a working class background. As McCaskell explained, activists did not come from privileged backgrounds. He stated, “there were no sons of doctors and lawyers. People like that had more to lose. The more you had to lose the quieter you needed to be.”
As with any political movement, activists had to contend with tensions within their ranks as well as from a hostile public. Some believed change demanded radical action. Others did not want to rock any boats and advocated for a more conciliatory approach. This latter group included gay businessmen who owned bars and bathhouses, as well as many of their patrons who just wanted to quietly live their lives without hassle. McCaskell described the clashing perspectives between these two camps as follows:
“There was really no love lost between a small activist group and much of the gay and lesbian community. The activists seemed like they were snooty with ‘why aren’t you out of the closet’ kind of stuff. They took a dim view of the bars and bathhouses as unliberated places controlled by gay capitalists. People thought ‘you activists are always pushing.’ So there was this arrogance on behalf of the activists and a kind of ‘these are crazy people’ on behalf of the general community.”
Tensions were so great that bars and bathhouses prevented gay liberation literature from being distributed on their premises. The real change, the beginning of it, came in 1979 with a raid on the Barracks bathhouse in Toronto. Gay business owners realized they needed activists to help mount a political strategy against further raids. At the same time, activists began to appreciate and respect the role gay establishments played in providing a much-needed sense of community, one that needed to be protected from hostile acts.
In 1981, the police mounted a massive police raid on multiple bathhouses in Toronto all in one night (see December blog “From the mouth of gays”). Hundreds of men were arrested. Most in the gay community knew someone who was affected. The raids were so shocking and extreme that, for the first time, activists and much of the gay and lesbian community began uniting in a common cause. Equally important, activists learned to approach issues in a more sensitive and productive fashion, as McCaskell explained:
“For the first time, we learned to talk to ordinary people about things that were important to them in ways they understood. We realized that if we talked about and organized around the issues that were of central importance to them rather than the ones we though should be important then the community would get on board.”
The bathhouse raids taught activists to up their game in other ways too. For example, they brought in professionals who helped mount a highly successful legal defense for men arrested in the bathhouse raids. This was the first time that activists drew on people such as lawyers and media specialists with the necessary know-how to successfully mount a more sophisticated and effective approach.
Reflecting on this period, McCaskell noted, “It was amazing. All this slogging we had done with so few results over the years finally began to bear fruit.” And bear fruit it did. Once they learned to remove barriers they were unwittingly creating for themselves many successes soon followed. Activists’ courage and persistence married to a willingness to adapt created a winning combination that indeed changed the world.
“In 1974 I saw an advertisement in [gay liberation periodical] The Body Politic inviting people to join a march starting at Allan Gardens to launch Gay Pride Week. I decided to go. When I arrived at the park where the march was to begin, I saw a group of people hanging around. When they were ready to march, I came out of hiding behind some trees, picked up a sign that read “gay liberation now,” and started walking.
After the march, I began reading gay liberation literature as quickly as I could. All of a sudden there was this political framework that made things make sense. It transformed my perspective of gays and lesbians from being rather abject creatures living in the shadows to a group spearheading a movement to change the world.”
McCaskell was careful to note that few then could feel empowered to join the movement. Like him, activists tended to be confined to a group of young, university educated individuals prepared to take risks. Interestingly, this group consisted almost entirely of people from a working class background. As McCaskell explained, activists did not come from privileged backgrounds. He stated, “there were no sons of doctors and lawyers. People like that had more to lose. The more you had to lose the quieter you needed to be.”
As with any political movement, activists had to contend with tensions within their ranks as well as from a hostile public. Some believed change demanded radical action. Others did not want to rock any boats and advocated for a more conciliatory approach. This latter group included gay businessmen who owned bars and bathhouses, as well as many of their patrons who just wanted to quietly live their lives without hassle. McCaskell described the clashing perspectives between these two camps as follows:
“There was really no love lost between a small activist group and much of the gay and lesbian community. The activists seemed like they were snooty with ‘why aren’t you out of the closet’ kind of stuff. They took a dim view of the bars and bathhouses as unliberated places controlled by gay capitalists. People thought ‘you activists are always pushing.’ So there was this arrogance on behalf of the activists and a kind of ‘these are crazy people’ on behalf of the general community.”
Tensions were so great that bars and bathhouses prevented gay liberation literature from being distributed on their premises. The real change, the beginning of it, came in 1979 with a raid on the Barracks bathhouse in Toronto. Gay business owners realized they needed activists to help mount a political strategy against further raids. At the same time, activists began to appreciate and respect the role gay establishments played in providing a much-needed sense of community, one that needed to be protected from hostile acts.
In 1981, the police mounted a massive police raid on multiple bathhouses in Toronto all in one night (see December blog “From the mouth of gays”). Hundreds of men were arrested. Most in the gay community knew someone who was affected. The raids were so shocking and extreme that, for the first time, activists and much of the gay and lesbian community began uniting in a common cause. Equally important, activists learned to approach issues in a more sensitive and productive fashion, as McCaskell explained:
“For the first time, we learned to talk to ordinary people about things that were important to them in ways they understood. We realized that if we talked about and organized around the issues that were of central importance to them rather than the ones we though should be important then the community would get on board.”
The bathhouse raids taught activists to up their game in other ways too. For example, they brought in professionals who helped mount a highly successful legal defense for men arrested in the bathhouse raids. This was the first time that activists drew on people such as lawyers and media specialists with the necessary know-how to successfully mount a more sophisticated and effective approach.
Reflecting on this period, McCaskell noted, “It was amazing. All this slogging we had done with so few results over the years finally began to bear fruit.” And bear fruit it did. Once they learned to remove barriers they were unwittingly creating for themselves many successes soon followed. Activists’ courage and persistence married to a willingness to adapt created a winning combination that indeed changed the world.
Advertisement for the 1974 march from Allan Gardens to launch Gay Pride Week (August 17-25) where Tim McCaskell launched his career as an activist. The march was organized to focus attention on efforts to include sexual orientation in the Ontario Human Rights Code. The parade was covered by the Toronto Sun and the Globe and Mail; this was the first time that major mainstream newspapers covered a Gay Pride march in Toronto.