I was alive but barely aware of the world around me when marriage equality was achieved in Canada (I was ten). I became an adult near the end of Stephen Harper's era, when Canada seemed ready to embrace equality and freedom for queer and trans people. While imperfect and with many an exception, it felt like we were trending upwards and building a better world.
I was full of hope, and committed to doing my part to accelerate this progress, towards greater equity and liberation. Looking back, I miss how that time felt. These days, I think more about how we took our progress for granted, and became a bit naive in our approach. We forgot: progress isn't guaranteed. Liberation isn't a linear line. Too often, every step forward is met with attempts to push us two steps backwards.
Now, young queer people like me, in Canada, America and many other parts of the world, are experiencing a surge of homophobia and transphobia like never before. It's new to us, and it's hitting like a freight train. We are scared, and with good reason. Backlash to trans health, as well as diversity, equity, and inclusion more broadly has been building up for years and now seems to be going full swing, and we don't yet know how far it will go.
I wasn't around in the 70s and 80s, in the years following Stonewall and when AIDS began to decimate generations of gay men. But I’m lucky enough to know many elders in the community, and their stories. I can't always relate to their challenges, but I can find hope in their victories.
When I’m looking for some inspiration, I think about the stories of how CBRC and groups like Health Initiative for Men (HIM) came to be. Founding principles scribbled on a napkin in a gay bar or around the kitchen table, by gay men tired of being sidelined by straight folks in the response to HIV, and of having to fight for their share of funding, in a crisis that impacted them the most. Today, HIM and CBRC are now powerhouses in queer health, bringing data and programs together to improve the health and well-being of queer people.
Stories like these remind me that even when governments are hostile, we can find ways forward—by us and for us. They remind me that our community has survived generations of discrimination and exclusion. Our legacy is marked, if not defined, by resistance to hostile governments and a society enmeshed with homophobia and transphobia. It’s a history that shows when our community is scapegoated, when we face backlash and are targeted by those in power, we can come together. We can be powerful, and with time—we can win.
In an Era of Backlash and Hate, We Must Come Together
Today, we have an American president who is no friend to queer people, or frankly any minority or marginalized group. A president who put elimination of trans people from public life at the top of their agenda. Already, he has removed mention of trans people from government websites, scrapped the trans-inclusive X marker on passports, initiated the removal of trans women from women’s prisons (putting incarcerated trans women at increased risk of violence), and banned gender affirming healthcare for trans youth. All within his first two weeks in office, and those are just some of his attacks on trans people specifically.
In Canada, we already had two provincial governments actively working to reverse freedom and rights for trans youth, and in the case of Alberta, of their access to gender affirming care. To make matters worse, some politicians seem genuinely excited by the anti-trans, anti-DEI wrecking ball approach taken by the new administration and the Republicans. What will that mean for queer, trans, and Two-Spirit communities in Canada, and our access to healthcare and services?
Working with queers who’ve been at this far longer than me, I’m reminded of the enduring demonization our community has faced being dragged into the centre of one moral panic after another. We’ve always had the odds stacked against us, of having to support each other in the face of governments and groups that don’t understand or want to accept us. Knowing that we’ve been here before, and seeing the progress that has been achieved, I know we will overcome.
But how, exactly? How do we cut through the lies and win over the public that we naively thought were firmly in our camp? How do we show politicians trying to weaponize hate and ignorance about queer and trans people is not only unethical, but also a losing strategy? How do we mitigate the harm of this moment, push back against these narratives, and get back on track?
This is a time for sober reflection on our movement, and thinking critically about our tactics and our messages, and the work of changing hearts and minds—and whose in particular. What is a winning message, and to whom and how must it be delivered? If we’re being honest with ourselves, have we done the work to truly meet people where they are at?
Despite what we may want to believe, issues around sex, sexuality, and gender are still messy, made even messier by a climate of fear and deception, and amplified by digital platforms that increasingly seem to care less about our safety, let alone dignity. There’s a lot more to process and strategize around, but I’m firmly of the belief that we win this moment when we win the public, when we have an inclusive and relatable message that recognizes our shared experiences and values centering freedom, equality, and human rights.
We can't just oppose attacks from the transphobes who want to see people like me erased from public life. We must be for something. We must paint a picture of the kind of country and world we want and advance concrete measures to bring that future closer.
We have an incredible story, as a movement. We aren’t just building a better world for queer people. We are building a better (more free, more equal, more safe, and more healthy) world—for everyone. So let’s put that vision forward, and back it up with concrete solutions that bring it closer.
Fae Johnstone (she/they) is the Executive Director of Society for Queer Momentum, a national non-profit working to advance freedom, equality and human rights for 2SLGBTQIA+ people. You can support Queer Momentum’s advocacy by joining their newsletter, here.
The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policies or opinions of CBRC or its funders.
