While many great times and important life events have happened during Pride, it’s my first Dyke March that stands out.
I had just moved to Toronto a few months earlier, after having grown up in a small town and gone to university in Waterloo (I thought I was finally moving to the city – no one told me it would be so much like the small town I had just escaped). It was also my first year organizing with Ladyfest Toronto. A lifelong feminist, Ladyfest was the first time I had put my politics in motion in a tangible, organized way.
Before the march, a group of Ladyfesters gathered at my apartment on Maitland Street. We made signs, prepped our flyers and created a huge banner out of improvised materials and lots of sequins. We hastily fashioned outrageous outfits, cutting up old curtains, t-shirts and whatever else we had around. We poured our DIY feminist spirit into our march materials, and had a ton of fun – all before the march had even started.
We then made our way down to the march. Walking down Yonge Street, I was a bit nervous at first. Having a huge crowd of strangers looking at me and taking photos is not my favourite thing in life. But the apprehension quickly gave way to excitement. It was thrilling to be surround by huge numbers of queer women and amazing allies, and encouraging to see people’s interest in Ladyfest – asking to know more, promising to check out the festival. (Turns out queer women are totally into an event called Ladyfest.)
The Dyke March was the first time I had encountered such a feeling of community. So many people had shown up to show what it is to be queer and female, in all of the many different ways those identities manifest themselves. It was public celebration of a diverse community that is often maligned and misunderstood by mainstream culture. It was the perfect mix of party and politics. Though I’ll be marching this year in an alternate event – Take Back The Dyke – I’ll always look back fondly on that first march, which was also the first step towards my wonderful new life.