Tag Archives: Calgary Pride

In Hot Water: Our Relationship with the Police

Terry Haldane, Stephen Lock & the 2002 Goliath’s Bathhouse Raid

At around 2:30 PM on a Thursday, Calgary Police Service officers invaded one of our community’s safe havens, Goliath’s Bathhouse. This surprise raid occurred on December 12, 2002. In this series of blog posts, we will delve into the history of the Goliath’s raid. Along the way, we will explore injustice, changing queer culture and our complicated relationship with the police, past and present.

Read Part 1: The Raid: here.

Read Part 2: The Court Battle: here.

The relationship between police and various minority communities is a contentious and current issue: the Goliath’s Raid is an interesting case study.

Reflecting on the conduct of state agents, it appears both police officers and the case’s Crown prosecutor behaved professionally and compassionately. During the raid, one married man was so upset about the implications for his marriage, family, and religious community that he felt like throwing up. However, an officer came and reassured him that it was not like a murder or robbery charge, describing it as quite a minor thing. The Crown prosecutor generally avoided airing dirty laundry in the trial, and tried to get a publication ban on the names. According to Terry, he told Terry’s lawyer at tennis that a case like this is the last thing he’d want to be assigned because it made no sense. Even as far back as the 80s, Terry had positive, supportive experiences with police, especially when he experienced a brutal gay-bashing and multiple officers visited him, with one even giving Terry soup his wife had made.

Regarding the organization as a whole, Terry and Stephen still think the Calgary Police Service has yet to take full responsibility. Stephen brought up at a liaison meeting that then-police chief Jack Beaton should apologize. They privately learned later that Jack Beaton felt a tension between maintaining a healthy relationship with the community and his duty to investigate crime, and he did apparently ask the police commission if an apology could be issued, but was denied as they thought it would be seen as admitting fault. Calgary Police Service chief Roger Chaffin did apologize in July 2018 for “not fully considering the impacts of a 2002 Goliath’s bathhouse raid and the impacts that would have on the community […] we are sorry for the role we played in this part of your painful past.” Despite this, Terry and Stephen feel the apology wasn’t full-throated enough in explicitly taking responsibility.

Calgary Police Chief’s formal apology to the LGBTQ2+ community on July 27, 2018.

As mentioned earlier, prior to 2002, the relationship between police and gays was improving and actively being bettered. Though the raid felt like a backstabbing, Terry and Stephen also felt that within about five years, the relationship had mostly re-healed. They now see that relationship being threatened again by current discourse and political movements. Regarding the movement to exclude police from Pride, they have the sentiment of “how dare you” after their work on building that relationship. They respect Calgary Pride’s right to run their organization as they see fit and to be inclusive, but they don’t see this as a productive path forward. In response to the call to defund the police, Terry actually banded together with an officer’s mother and Brett Wilson (formerly of Dragon’s Den) to mobilize against this movement.

It is worth pointing out that Terry and Stephen’s story is primarily a reflection of white cisgender gay men’s interaction with police. People from different racial, economic, and gender backgrounds have experienced interactions with police that vary: with some people having no interactions or positive interactions, and others experiencing real discrimination and abuse from police. Nevertheless, it is still useful to look at this event as an example of how the police’s relationship with minority groups can be damaged and repaired depending on both party’s actions and attitudes.

In this case, the police put in the initiative to work with the gay community in the 1990s, betrayed that trust in 2002, and then spent the subsequent years rebuilding and finally apologizing—all of which required buy-in, hard work, forgiveness, and self-advocacy from members of the community. Both groups stand to benefit from one another: the police gain cooperation and insight from a community that may be harder to engage, and the gay community gains better protection and a reduced experience of discrimination from police. It is astonishing that people who faced direct discrimination from police encroachment on their sexuality are able to hold a pro-police position and then afterward work to help them connect with the community. It is a testament to the power of forgiveness.

As it stands, it seems at least some of the white gay male community has re-established a relatively functional relationship with the police. The case is not so with all members of the LGBTQ2+ community, each racial and gender community potentially facing injustice with varying degrees of severity. It is up to each community to determine if and how their relationship with the police can be mended. It is up to the police to put in the effort to adapt and build a cooperative relationship with them. CPS says that they are committed to serving our minority communities. Can we hold them to that and work with them to let them know what we need?

Next week: Part 4.

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Defending Lesbian Moms in YYC

{The Calgary Gay History Project is revisiting its most impactful blog posts—now numbering in the hundreds—since its inception nine years ago. Defending Lesbian Moms in YYC was initially published on August 25, 2017.}

For decades in Calgary, if you were out as a lesbian and had children, you would likely have them taken away. Therefore the stakes were high for gay women: being a mom was decidedly a good reason for keeping the closet door barricaded shut. Unofficial estimates claim up to 50% of lesbians in the 1960s and 1970s had children through previous heterosexual relationships or marriages. If they were outed, former husbands or even the state itself would intervene to ensure that these “unfit mothers” had their children removed.

Lois Szabo, recently honoured with a park named after her, is a lesbian and also a mother. She was able to work out a child rearing arrangement with her husband privately. Sadly, Lois knew of other lesbians in the 1960s who lost access to their children completely and became utterly broken. One lesbian she knew was institutionalized. Another killed herself slowly through alcoholism.

In fact, it was not until November 21, 1975, when an openly lesbian mother was awarded custody of her child in Canada. In the groundbreaking decision of K. vs. K., Justice D. W. Rowe of the Alberta Provincial Court reasoned that a child’s likelihood of becoming gay would not increase solely by being raised by a homosexual parent – contrary to the view widely held in Canadian society. Regrettably, this decision did not set a new legal standard as throughout the 1980s lesbian mothers continued to lose custody battles specifically due to their sexual orientation.

However, the 1975 decision fired up feminist activists to begin challenging the legal bias against lesbians in Canadian courts. In 1978, the first Lesbian Mothers’ Defence Fund (LMDF) was started in Toronto, initially through a grant from a local church group and then sustained through private donations.

In Calgary, Lynn Fraser was working at the Calgary Status of Women Action Committee, a job she described as “very low paid but very exciting.” Lynn was an unapologetic feminist and activist. She recalled, “I had a big button I always wore that said, ‘Lesbian Mother,’ which sometimes caused me trouble – but I never backed down.”

Lynn had organized Feminist Town Halls in Calgary which included both actions and public speakers. In 1982, the first “Women Reclaim the Night March” was staged in Calgary in conjunction with a talk by Andrea Dworkin, a well-known American anti-pornography activist. Another speaker in the Town Hall series was Francie Wyland, the coordinator at Toronto’s LMDF.

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Francie Wyland, Dustin Smith, and his mother, Lynn Fraser. Photo: Garth Pritchard, Calgary Herald July 2, 1981.

There was a loose collective interested in starting a LMDF chapter in Calgary after Francie Wyland spoke to the lesbian community in 1981. Lynn met Marilyn Atkinson and her partner Lou at that first gathering featuring Francie. Marilyn also became a key organizer in the collective. As a mother herself, Marilyn volunteered to provide peer support to lesbian mothers and women during any potential custody struggles. The collective was based out of Gay Information Resources Calgary (GIRC) initially.

Lavender Marilyn

Lou with Marilyn Atkinson featured in Calgary’s Lesbian Publication The Lavender Times on the occasion of their 25th Anniversary.

The LMDF was a low-budget, grass roots organization. Pot-luck suppers and community dances were its primary source of funding. In 1982, two Calgary lesbians took pledges to cycle across the county to raise money for the LMDF. It took them four months, but they made it to St. John’s that summer after starting in Vancouver.

In 1983, the father of Lynn’s son, Dustin, started making noises about challenging her for custody of their child. That mobilized Lynn to call Francie in Toronto for LMDF advice. Beltline lawyer, Neva Ramsay, volunteered to do the incorporation papers for the local chapter and on April 21st, 1983, the Lesbian Mothers Defence Fund Society of Alberta was born. Dustin’s father backed off.

There was a lively social scene with Calgary’s LMDF, which moved out of GIRC into their own office at the Old Y. The potlucks and dances would even attract lesbians without children! A bonus to the socializing was that their children got to play with other kids who had lesbian moms, making their family structures seem much more commonplace.

The Lavender Times, November 1987

The LMDF offered information, support, referrals to lawyers, and financial help to lesbian mothers struggling to keep or win custody of their children. The advice in child custody cases included: going to court is the last resort; do not leave your children behind; beware of ex-husbands kidnapping your kids. The LMDF also advocated for social change in the judicial system, proclaiming that the straight court system failed lesbians.

Lynn recalls: “It was an exciting time to get your voice out there and be heard. There was so much misinformation and so much fear—it seemed like almost everybody was in the closet.”

As the LMDF developed, Marilyn was hired to organize lesbian conferences which she remembered proved quite popular: “Women came from everywhere to attend.” The first conference in 1985, was funded by the local lesbian community itself. When the conferences began to attract public funding, protests were heard.

Maureen Buruill, a lobbyist with REAL Women of Canada in January 1987 wrote an editorial in the Calgary Herald complaining about her own organization’s lack of funding:

“Women’s groups across Canada receive funding from the Secretary of State’s Women’s Program. One example was a grant to the Calgary Lesbian Mothers Defence Fund to set up a “lesbian-gay” workshop collective. This organization also received a grant to arrange a lesbian conference. Why is our tax money given to these groups and refused to a group seeking to preserve family values?”

Despite the social conservative yowling, the legal system evolved to have less bias against lesbian mothers. Consequently, the LMDF’s activities morphed into helping lesbians get pregnant – initially by connecting donors to mothers but also by running sperm! It was not until 1992 that artificial insemination in hospitals became legally available to single and unmarried women, including lesbians in Calgary. The LMDF then began fundraising for artificial insemination in doctor’s offices and stopped running sperm themselves. Several babies were born from the LMDF’s sustained efforts.

In 1992, the society changed its name to the Lesbian Mothers Support Society to better reflect its efforts and developed a notable online presence. It also was active in advocating Provincially for adoption rights for the partners of lesbian mothers. The society wound down its operations in 2002. However, in its 21 years of history, the LMDF made a huge difference: defending lesbian mothers and moving social justice forward in Calgary.

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Reading History for Calgary Pride

Wordfest kindly asked Calgary Gay History Project’s Kevin Allen to participate in their Community Book List series. The task was to come up with a list of 20 books that were meaningful to him. It proved challenging to limit the list to only 20! So, he chose his favourite theme—queer history!

Kevin writes: ““One can learn a lot from reading historical queer fiction to see how the LGBTQ2S community has evolved over the decades. This list includes some of the most celebrated, award-winning novels from our community, plus a few of my fan favourites. On this list, I have included some Calgarian authors as well as a couple of non-fiction historical surveys—one Canadian, one American—for those looking for an accessible and comprehensive understanding of our human rights struggles. I can read any of these books over and over and over; they have a special place on my bookshelf.”

Wordfest cleverly has included links to where readers can find the books (or e-books), through the Calgary Public Library as well as local independent bookstores. As we approach the season of Calgary Pride, consider a read from Kevin’s curated list.

Bonus: yycgayhistory project links for further reading/watching on six of these authors: Hall, Maupin, Cullen, Highsmith, Baldwin, Forster.

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