With playful gender-bending, queer radio shows, cheeky kiss-ins and “fag-friendly” student bands, the Carleton 2SLGBTQ+ community of the 80s and 90s worked as an underground force for progress.
For David O’Meara, an English literature student and member of Sock ‘n’ Buskin Theatre Company from 1987 to 1994, theatre was a route for social commentary.
“We were always looking for interesting plays that would push convention, push status quo ideas about society and push the student population,” O’Meara said.
One such play was Cloud Nine, which graced the Alumni Theatre stage — now the Kailash Mital Theatre — in February 1991. With forbidden queer romance, raunchy sex triangles, gender-bending, challenging of colonialism and an elderly woman exploring self-pleasure, this adventurous postmodern comedy stirred reactions within the university community.
O’Meara, who portrayed a gay man named Edward, recalled that opposition to Cloud Nine’s depiction of homosexuality startled him.
“There was a kissing scene between myself and another male actor. I remember being quite surprised opening night that there were shock and gasps from the audience when that scene happened,” he said. “I looked forward to getting that reaction every performance.”
Ultimately, O’Meara said he believes the production advanced normalization of queer relationships on campus.
“The positive thing was that the gay and lesbian community at the time really embraced Cloud Nine,” he said. “They saw the play was pushing boundaries and offering an alternative version to the status quo, which is what I think art does.”
Furnaceface, a local student indie-rock band that performed throughout the 1990s, also pushed against the status quo.
A 1993 Charlatan orientation week article recommended the Furnaceface song, “Can’t Help Who You Love,” as a “fag-friendly” anthem for 2SLGBTQ+ first-years.
The article read, “Although none of the band’s members are gay (sob), they don’t mind the tune’s homo-interpretation.”
Furnaceface vocalist and guitarist Patrick Banister said the band members aimed to be allies for communities they cared about.
“We came up through a punk scene which was all about community and inclusion unless of course, you were a racist, Nazi [or] fascist. In which case you could, to put it bluntly, fuck off,” he wrote in an email to the Charlatan.
Cicely McWilliam, a Carleton film student from 1986 to 1989, best remembers her Carleton years working as a lesbian activist with Queer Nation—an organization committed to combating homophobic violence and media prejudices.
Citing the AIDS epidemic, substance abuse, social stigmas and economic insecurity as key concerns of the 2SLGBTQ+ community during this time, McWilliam stressed the necessity of activism.
“It was truly life or death for a lot of people. We couldn’t be ourselves. We couldn’t love who we wanted to love,” she said.
“We didn’t have the rights that heterosexuals have, and if we didn’t fight for them, we were never gonna get them.”
She added Queer Nation student protests were often “cheeky.”
“We were really focused on queering spaces,” she said. “We heard that a bar on Elgin Street kicked out a queer couple for dancing and kissing. So we went en masse, occupied the space, made it our own and had a kiss-in. We did a kiss-in on Parliament Hill and a drag takeover of the makeup counter at The Bay.”
Hidden gems in the city also made for memorable nights out. McWilliam recalled evenings spent at Coral Reef, a lesbian bar situated in the Rideau Centre parking garage basement and affectionately nicknamed “Oral Grief.”
“It was run by straight people, who I think were contractors for their day job. So most of the bar itself was covered in bathroom tile. Every single night they ended the night with ‘Lady in Red’ by Chris de Burgh and it was terrible,” she joked.
Keri-Lyn Durant, who attended Carleton on and off between 1989 and 1994, said she frequented the Elgin Street DV8 lesbian bar and the Dancing Mermaid lesbian nightclub. While grateful for 2SLGBTQ+ spaces for students to unwind and connect, Durant said she also experienced harassment.
“I had privilege and the ability to pass in every space. Nobody bothered me until I was coming out of DV8. We’d get catcalled coming out,” she said.
As someone who wore makeup, dresses and was considered “femme,” Durant felt she didn’t fit lesbian presentation moulds of the time.
“When we talk about things these days as being fluid and flexible, in those days I felt like things were far more rigid,” she said. “It was a weird time for me because there was a lot of in-community labelling and conformity.”
Amid confusion and questioning her place, Durant found sanctuary in co-hosting the CKCU lesbian and gay radio program Defiant Voices alongside Kevin Gibbs.
The radio program featured interviews with queer thinkers and challenged homophobic policies within the Catholic Church and the right-wing organization, REAL Women of Canada.
“There was one religious leader, [and] he would call in. In those days, we didn’t have email. He’d say things like, ‘If you were my daughter, I would’ve drowned you at birth,’” Durant recalled.
Durant said Defiant Voices called out homophobic attitudes for being absurd and unacceptable. For students who grew up in conservative spaces, the radio show presented new norms.
“I grew up in a home that was socially conservative,” Durant said. “In those days, my world was very cerebral as a defense mechanism. Kevin was a safe space for me.”
Guided by the belief “you cannot be what you cannot see,” Durant said the program aimed to normalize 2SLGBTQ+ life, on campus and beyond, without enforcing stereotypes.
“I think in all of the chaos, there was joy in being able to be my ugly little self at Defiant Voices. There was joy in discovering that there was space to just ‘be,’” Durant said.
“It has inevitably had some kind of impact,” she added. “When Defiant Voices came about, it really felt like we were breaking ground.”
McWilliam reiterated that current 2SLGBTQ+ rights and progress stem from a history of advocacy.
“There’s been a lot of improvements and benefits to what young queer kids have today, and I’m happy they have [those],” McWilliam said. “That didn’t happen without a fight.”
Both McWilliam and Durant said more work is needed to achieve equity, especially for trans youth and elderly 2SLGBTQ+ people.
“It’s 2023 and yes, on the hard work of the queer community that’s come before us, I’m thankful to live as I do,” Durant said. “But I know we still have a lot of work to do.”
Featured graphic by Alisha Velji/the Charlatan.
