What they Don’t Tell Prairie Folk Before they Come to Toronto

Getting off the bus, the first thing that will hit you is the grunginess of your surroundings.  We’re not talking normal bus terminal detritus, we’re talking bits and pieces of all those hopeful little folks from Grande Prairie to Winnipeg who have come before you, and have seen the exact same sight. 

Welcome to Toronto, land where all your dreams may come true.  Theoretically… 

After the initial shock wears off, if you’re lucky enough to have found a place to live before your arrival, you’ll probably find that all of those horror stories concerned parents and other “authority” figures set to dissaude you are untrue.  That is, for the most part.  Torontonians are no meaner than anyone else, if somewhat more rushed.  If you take the time, you will find a job, friends, and green space.  If you REALLY take the time, you will probably also find that you aren’t the only person from your town or city who has made the trek here.

In fact, you may even notice that most Torontonians are wanting to leave for greener pastures of their own.

The stars don’t quite shine as bright here as they do over Saskatoon, but the view over Lake Ontario as the suns sets in the West (and is shining brighter over the parts you used to call home) is not one to be missed. 

Spend enough time living, loving and learning in this city and you’ll find that there aren’t really any true Torontonians.  “I live in the Annex, but I’m originally from BC.”  “My apartment is in the Village, I moved there last year.  I used to live with my family up in Scarberia, ever since they moved there from the Phillipines”  “My location?  I’m up near Eglinton station, north on Yonge.  I know, kinda far, but it’s the first place I could find after coming from Ottawa.”  “I guess I can’t really say I’m from here, I mean, I was raised in Oakville…”

Perhaps the thing that will shock you most is how many people actually aren’t from Toronto in Toronto.  The multiculturalism that Canada speaks of as one of the main reasons to live here ACTUALLY exists in Toronto.  Don’t be shocked on the subway or in the streets that you may find yourself as a minority for the first time in your life.

Most of all, don’t fall for the Toronto facade, its hard cold exterior.  Bitterness is so easy here, because it’s difficult to get beyond what this city will present at face value.  Spend some time, make some friends, and you’ll find that there really is a little bit of the rest of the world here, and if you’re truly adventurous, you’ll find a way to make your mark and add a little bit of the prairie amidst the concrete jungle.

 

Posted by mercuriusrm.

Sweets Galore :O

Enter the candy shoppe where everything is nice and absolutely delectable/look closely/candies of every colour galore/chocolates/fudges/candy-coated apples//

Intoxicating smell of sweets fill the air/stirring the olfactory system/salivating/i stealthily reach for the lovely treats//

Hands in my pockets/take them out/i count my change/not even enough to buy a single Kiss//

Head down/disappointed/i walk away//

Day in and day out/i would visit the candy shoppe/looking/yearning//

At the back of my head/i wonder if i enjoy this looking but not touching/patience envelops me/the meager bread and butter i have diverts my attention//

Still longing for it all/sweets/desserts/candies/chocolates/dreaming/wishful thinking//

Maybe i just want someone to give me candy/nah/i should just work harder to have enough money to actually get myself some sweets//

*Sort of a symbolic poem here. Just feeling a bit awkwardly random…and wanting to kick myself on my already hurting cute bum.

 

Posted by jhazeybee.

Come out, come out, wherever you are?

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Let me start this post by cheering: post-modernism, non-linear discourse/stories, un-learning, not assuming, general queer-ness and individuality.

Now, to the actual post.

I came out to my parents(as a lesbian) a few years ago. Actually, it was a very dramatic moment. So, I do have a traditional coming out story. But, more and more queers never had this “dramatic moment”. And, it doesn’t mean (necessarily) that they are “closet cases”.

The queer community – I really hate the expression “ queer community’, but that’s another post. Anyway, the queer community has focused a lot of attention on “coming out narratives”, “outing”, “ degrees of out-ness” , and other related topics. Coming out is seen as a rite of passage, a badge of honour, a prerequisite to a “ healthy” life , almost a panacea. And, of course, all that is not true.

First, we have to realize that a lot of “coming out stories” are fragmented. As the old joke says: You can’t put all the people who were, are and will be part of your life in a room and come out to all of them at once. So, we all probably have disconnected fragments of a coming out story(s)- and this small anecdotes are as important as the traditional narratives.

Second, coming out can be a non-linear process. It’s not uncommon for people to “ go back in the closet” for some time, or in some social settings. Some may be actually repressing themselves- for a bazillion good reasons. Others may just be focusing in other areas of their life, to the point where their sexuality is a non-issue.

Identities and “ labels” are always shifting, adding to the nonlinearity. I started as a “ good old respectable lipstick lesbian” and now I identify as “ a queer transboy/ genderqueer”. I don’t even want to imagine what my parents thought when I brought a boy home.

Third, family dynamics are weird and unique. As someone said: “I never came out to my mom. I am not sleeping with her, so it doesn’t matter”. And, it really shouldn’t matter. Some families are really liberal. Others just don’t care about our “personal lives”. I bet a lot of people out there don’t feel all angsty just because they are not sharing one part of their lives with their parents/family.

Fourth, focusing on “coming out” also means that we expect people to put their queer identities first. We all have different identities and priorities. I’m not saying we shouldn’t merge contradictory identities- yes, I’m latin@, and queer, and trans. It’s just that we may have other more essential and interesting characteristics , which makes the whole “ coming out” thing less important.

And last, long gone are the days of the paranoid- angsty-“ closet case” . Hopefully. At least in Toronto. It’s totally possible to have a fulfilling “ queer life” – go out, connect to a community, have friends, a relationship- even before coming out (to the straight people in your life). It certainly makes things a bit more complicated and stressful- but what isn’t “ complicated and stressful” nowadays?

Ah, I’ve ranted enough. And, I’m pretty sure we all know by heart “ why coming out is such a wonderful thing”.

 

Posted by lvk4.

“Oh horror!”

The line so often heard from Gilbert and Sullivan plays stick in my head. So much, that I speakth of it upon receiving an MSN message from my future roommate (female) in residence:

“Oh hey are you a guy”?

Now, it is totally understandable that ROSI and the UofT bureaucracy we have grown to love to despise may have its glitches and mistaeks [sic], but after having lived and grown up in the same residence for the past 4 years and to have them mishandle a delicate case of queer/trans identity not way back when but NOW?

“Why Damme, it’s too bad!”  –Capt. Corcoran, HMS Pinafore

While a speedy and firey letter to Residence Life always results in swift change to patch up the information (as I’m told, UofT is rather touchy and sensitive on these issues in fear of lawsuits), the damage is already done — You don’t see issues with trans roomies, not when the issue is not brought up by either the person him/herself, or the works of a leaky barge of information.

A database and human resource system is only as well organized and run as the people who maintains it, and from the looks of it, I’ve certainly met no British Tar.

 

Posted by Satsuki Shizuka.

Thoughts from the newbie…

When it comes to being proud and out, I often consider and identify myself as a bit of newbie. Really, I’ve only openly identified myself as queer for less than 6 months.

Sure in that time I marched in the Pride Parade, appeared in an Xtra online news story, dated a few girls and come out to lots of my friends, classmates, relatives and coworkers. It’s been a huge relief to figure out and come to terms with my queer identity. And I’ve been extremely fortunate to find myself with such a great number of friends who are incredibly supportive about it.

So now I’m starting to feel like it’s about time I finally come out to my parents. Honestly, as a self-proclaimed ’straight-acting bi-girl’ with a little effort I probably could get away with not coming out for a few more months or even a few years. But now it’s come to a point where I’m just tired of constantly feeling like like I’m hiding something from them. And after 2.5 years of feeling like I had to lie about my relation to my Area Manager at my bank job (she’s my mom’s older sister and direct aunt) I know what it’s like to feel ashamed or weird about something that should be totally normal and accepted.*

And I’m getting pretty effing tired of it.

….

Also, I kind of love dancing at Slack’s on Friday nights now. And generally hanging in the Village. And my new super gay boss. I think one of my personal best discoveries was finding out how awesome being queer is in the city.

[*A footnote: Seriously, people are related to their coworkers all the time. It should really be no big deal by now. And of the people who suspected I got extra breaks at work from my relationship with my aunt? Many discover they're extremely mistaken when I tell them I haven't received a raise in 2.5 years. That is, until I got one from my awesome new boss.]

 

Posted by darcyhero.

Monkeying around

I’m posting this on behalf of my friend H. Evans.

Dear friends and suckers:

I’m sure you’ve read those columns where a bunch of people write in to an expert of some sort for advice. Well, this is the opposite. The expert is writing to you.

I’m going to come right out and say it: I have Grade-4-Boy-Syndrome. Meaning the more I like someone the meaner I am to them. Yeah.

You can probably imagine how in our society this would be a very sucky tendency to possess. We who so value those things called first impressions (or any impressions in fact. Crazy expectations like not being a jerk both before and after getting to know someone overall).

Yes. This is the way I am. God. Back in grade school, it was all I can do to not run up to the girl I liked and stomp on her feet.

I’m almost sorry to say my childhood is replete with awkward moments when I try everything I can think of to make various hers stop crying.

Even as a child, this did not guarantee me great success with the ladies. Sure, the tomboys giggled too, and a few of the pretty ones became morally degenerate pranksters along with you. But the prettiest ladies went home and refused to see me again after those flung pebbles bounced off their tender flesh.

It shows what they know, I said to myself. I took my sights off them and set them on those easy-going pranksters.

Today, though, I realize my luck with ladies may have something to do with this syndrome being carried-on. I should have seen it all along. It was so obvious. It was only a series of prominent incidents lately that piqued my interest:

First, that time when we were at the beach. Why could I not stop throwing the frisbee at her head?

Then there is that girl named after one of the US states. I made fun of her endlessly as we walked. And I only ever smirked at her. I topped it off by making out with her in the taxi. She’s so confused she doesn’t call me anymore.

Then there’s that time I stuck out my tongue at her and left her car when she wanted to make love to me. Or I would giggle when we kiss. Those times were bad.

Right now, I’m laboring under a secret crush, one that’s bigger than the ages. And holy, wouldn’t you know it, in my more conscientious moments (I rarely have those) I silently pity the girl’s very existence.

She is lovely. She doesn’t know Socrates well. So every time I see her, I would bring up the various principles and propositions of Socrates.

When I see her, I never show affection by touching her. I don’t ever smile genuinely at her, or ever try to understand where she is coming from when she describes her life and current events to me. I barely look at her, and spend all my time talking to and laughing with other people when we’re out together. I dated her best friend. I make out with other people in her presence. I leave her and forget to make contact for weeks and come back impulsively and inevitably. I promise her things, make her laugh, offend her, and call her the next evening. I tell her about all my offensive beliefs one moment and distill all the world into gold spoon-fed to her mouth the next. I make resolutions to change or to leave. I’m resolutely me, this way and always coming back.

I like her so much I’ve been consistently falling out of love with her daily since early June and it’s still ongoing.

She offends me more, though. I just got issues. She’s utterly indifferent. Most of the time we’re out and I’m standing fraught with inner turmoil, she’s opposite me, head bowed down, text-messaging someone .

So the monkey meets the wolverine. They make a loveless couple that fights more than they love. A perfect contradiction of a couple. Between them, shenanigans and indifference. Is this good riddance to me?

So I’m asking you all to please pitch in some advice. How can I break this awful pattern? Should I forget about this one? Give me your opinions.

Or better yet, go out with me with an open mind to abuse.

Yours sincerely,

-A Twentysomething Bart Simpson.

Posted by meattofu.

Toronto Womens’ Bookstore’s 35th Anniversary

Disclaimer: <-Read me first!!!
The information written here is based on the recollection of the author. Since the author didn’t think of writing this entry during the night of the event, she forgot to take notes of the event. If the author forgot anything or if the author mixed people up, please feel free to leave comments to correct the author. Also, the basic information about the event like the venue, price, time, etc., is written on the poster included with this entry.

Description:
Ladies of all shapes, sizes, and colours, and some male supporters as well, came to reminisce and celebrate memories and good times spent at the Toronto Womens’ Bookstore (TWB), one of the last surviving womens’ bookstores in North America (Yep, you read that right…North America!). A silent auction was held all through the night with items ranging from a collection of chocolates, zines, a feminist survival kit, Reiki gift certificate, anti-oppression group workshop sessions, and works of art. Some books and media by performing artists that evening were also sold 10% off tax free!!! A little booth was set-up for people to share their memorable experience in the TWB in exchange for Naila Keleta Mae’s spoken word CD, winner of the Canadian Urban Music Award for Best Spoken Word Recording (listening to it now and it’s pretty good ). People also got to mix and mingle with strong ladies in the community as they look at photos of and other memorabilia from past TWB events.

Some Performers (in no particular order except for the first one):

1. Lee Maracle – Winner of Gemini Awards for her movies, she started the night with an interesting Native American song with the maracas. She sang about strong ladies and how they would want their daughters and their grandchildren to be strong as well. She sang another Cree (if i’m not mistaken) song as well (much respect even if i don’t know what it’s about).

2. Anna Camilleri – Former U of T Native American part-time professor and former roofer, shared her wonderful poem (that is pretty descriptive…i remember something about the light and darkness…really interesting). She also told a story of her struggles as a mother and writer, and her long standing relationship with the TWB.

3. Gein Wong – Asian Freedom Arts School creator, shared her very first spoken word piece about immigration, i think the title had paper in it, and a piece from her latest collaborative effort from the The Movement Project: How We ForGot Here. Gein always has a very distinctive way of delivering her works…the syllabication and sound of the words just makes one know that…yep, it’s Gein! Can’t wait to watch her upcoming play based on the queer sci fi novel, Salt Fish Girl.

4. Yaya Yao – The eldest daughter of the eldest daughter of the eldest daughter gave us some “schooling” about some hilarious Cantonese and Mandarin cursing from her youth and visits in China. The pear story moved us to tears, myself included. Singing this “prayer” song was interesting…we all snapped fingers and sang “Life is so beautiful, death is also very beautiful.”

—Break! This time, my friend and i were sitting on the floor to give way to other people. We felt bad in sitting down right smack up front so we decided to watch the other half of the show at the back. We felt bad standing up so we sat on the floor. Bad move, i couldn’t concentrate much on the other half of the performances. Here’s some snippits of what i can remember…—

1. Masia One – Lady MC from Mississauga who was originally from Singapore came and performed 3 tracks. One acapella warm-up, and 2 from her upcoming CD, Pulao (islands), coming-out this fall. I wanted to dance to the other 2 tracks, but the place was a bit iffy. Wished that she performed more songs like Split Second Time and Return of the B-girl. Also hoped that people stood up and just grooved with the music. That would have been sweet…

2. There was a lady who is an LGBT sci-fiction writer who is also a winner of one of the gay sci-fi awards. She talked about her experiences from TWB.

3. There was a man who had Justice as a part of his name who talked about strong ladies in his life and how his mother broke the chain of abuse in his family. Her father, 38 at that time, backhanded her mother, 18 at that time, and her mother said that when he did that again, she’ll stab him in the heart. Lo and behold, the dad did it again and her mom got the kitchen knife and stabbed him on the heart. The dad incurred stab wounds on his hands. Strong lady indeed!

4. There was another lady of African descent who also spoke about her experiences with TWB and discovering it later in her life. I think she also came from the North York area. Whoohoo

5. Someone was also doing this collaborative artwork throughout the night wherein people would just dabble into the canvas that was left beside the book sale table. It was pretty interesting.

6. Past and current TWB staff and board members were also recognized for their contributions for the bookstore.

7. The night ended with DJ No Capitalista (who mostly played music that wasn’t really mainstream…so i guess that’s where his name comes from…haha )…mostly Latin American dancey grooves.

8. I think DJ Nik Red also spinned, but i was being a Cinderella and i left at 12 midnight so i didn’t hear his tunes.

Pros:

Lots of love. Positive vibe. Lots of very admirable ladies. Lots of cute ladies. Clean venue. Popular venue that’s easy to find. Good MCs.

Cons:

Odd sit-stand set-up that didn’t quite accommodate the crowd well enough. Music selection (depends on what people consider their type of music…the author didn’t quite like the dancing music mix at the end).

Posted by jhazeybee.

I wasn’t using you entirely

Dear _ _ _ _ .

I understand why you suspected that I was using you the other night when I singled you out as a dancing partner.  Yes I did it in front of THAT GIRL, but making a show wasn’t so much my intention as much as it was my excuse – my excuse to finally pay you some positive attention.  I’ve always thought you were really hot, but it never really made sense for me to go for you due to extenuating circumstances.  So last night I saw an opportunity and I went for it.  

Thanks for insisting on the goodbye kiss, – - – - – - -  -

The Trouble With Girls Are…

Note: I was listening to Kelly Clarkson’s ‘The Trouble with Love Is” and I got inspired. So, basically I just changed the words and therefore, no creativity in this blog post, but whatever, I make myself laugh! I suggest you click on the YouTube link and sing the new words with it!

YouTube link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWSF54j2fGc

The Trouble With Girls Are

Oooh oooh, ooooh yeah, mmmm…

Girls can be splendid beings,
Can’t deny the joy they bring.
A dozen of them or a single one
Make dreams sail as well as fairy tales.
They’ll make you hear symphonies
And you just want the whole world to see,
But like a drug that makes you blind,
They’ll fool ya every time

The trouble with girls are:
They can tear you up inside,
They can make your heart believe a lie.
They overshadow your pride.
The trouble with girls are:
Some doesn’t care how fast you fall,
And you can’t refuse their call.
See, you got no say at all.

Now I was once a fool, it’s true.
I played the game by all the rules,
But now my world’s a deeper blue
I’m sadder, but I’m wiser too.
I swore I’d never love again;
I swore my heart would never mend,
And said girls weren’t worth the pain,
But then I hear her call my name.

(The trouble with) The trouble with girls are:
They can tear you up inside,
They can make your heart believe a lie.
They overshadow your pride.
The trouble with girls are:
Some doesn’t care how fast you fall,
And you can’t refuse their call.
See, you got no say at all

Every time I turn around
I think I’ve got it all figured out,
My heart keeps callin’ and I keep on fallin’,
Over and over again.
This sad story always ends the same
Me standin’ in the pourin’ rain
It seems no matter what I do
They always tear my heart in two

(The trouble with girls are) The trouble with girls are, yeah
(They can tear you up inside) They can tear you up inside
(They make your heart believe a lie) Make your heart believe a lie
They overshadow your pride

(The trouble with girls are)
They’re in your heart,
They’re in your soul (some doesn’t care how fast you fall)
You won’t get no control
(and you can’t refuse their call)
See, you got no say at all

(The trouble with girls are) Oh, yeah
(They can tear you up inside)
(They make your heart believe a lie)

Posted by toledoly.

Culture Shock of a Canadian Born Queer

Every once in a while I get a question resembling: “How would your parents react if you told them you were dating someone white?”

My response revolves around the “they wouldn’t care…their concern is about that person being female.” The questioner is usually in shock.

What people perceive to be my culture is easily dealt with. Not so easy is approaching the more personal question of “what is my culture?”

As a teenager, the answer would usually revolve around whatever type of music I predominantly listened to, but culture is so much more than that. Nowadays, my definition of culture revolves around how I currently live and how I have lived. Although that encompasses an enormous spectrum, it can be dealt with. Adding on “cultural heritage” is what makes the whole thing so confusing.

Lately, I’ve been trying to find my cultural heritage. It’s been hard. I don’t know what I’m looking for.

My main routes of exploration have been food and Bollywood movies/dance. This doesn’t feel like the best approach. Food makes sense: I cook with my grandmother and my vegetable curry recipe spawned from my mother’s…but Bollywood? Really?

Bollywood is India’s equivalent to Hollywood. Enough said. My family did originate from India, but they haven’t lived there for 100 years. So India is important, but that 100 years is rather significant too. Sadly, other than geography I don’t have much from that time period either.

What will be done to remedy my misplaced cultural heritage? My plan is to leave North America for the first time.

Foreign lands, please welcome yet another tourist of the confused brown girl caliber!

Posted by qeewi.