A seat at the table doesn't stop a march for rights

Community organizing is one of the most important parts of our society. They cater directly to the needs of their surrounding communities, they serve as a grassroots outlet for activists, and the foundation of many places, careers, and ways of life. As individualism has entrenched itself in the very fabric of our current society, community organizing is not always an easy task. And yet, the collective needs of society always prevail. It often only takes a few people to begin a movement people identify with. 

Queer Concordia - like many volunteer-run groups - had to endure COVID, along with the inactivity and burnout it brought. While volunteer-run organizations can struggle with resilience, volunteering is key to many community organizations as it demonstrates a commitment to a cause, our innate need for connection, and the intrinsic, collective social good we have within us. Being able to do unpaid work is, however, is not accessible to all; when these positions are filled only by those who are privileged enough to not need the money for their contributions and efforts, not only can this leave blind-spots with regards to the issues themselves, but also with regards to what activism does and can look like. 

Queer activism has always been a struggle for acceptance; a struggle that feels all the more unending thanks to a handful of powerful people leading the assault on queer rights today. 

Queer activism has always been a struggle for acceptance; a struggle that feels all the more unending thanks to a handful of powerful people leading the assault on queer rights today. Queer activism outside of Concordia was not the original focus of Queer Concordia when it began in 2011. Rather, the focus was on providing direct relief to students through free supplies, events, and programming. In recent years, it has become more clear than ever that our existence is in danger and our mission needs to extend beyond activities of queer joy. Recently, I have felt a growing responsibility to go out on the streets, when previously I had never felt I needed to attend a protest. And yet, when I started to engage, I was met with the stark reality of the SPVM’s conduct towards queer people, and with the fear of putting myself at risk. Like Queer Concordia, I am reflecting on my place within the struggle for queer liberation. 

While over 50 years of mobilizing for queer rights began with protesting police brutality, we are still met with it, again and again, nearly every time we collectively and publicly express our grief. While we may not see police raids and the cleansing of gay establishments mere blocks from Concordia today, it feels like we are stuck in a loop as history repeats itself. The City of Montreal continues to fund more and more police efforts, and there has been very little attempt to correct the conduct, policies and procedures that riot police use to carry out violence against the queer community, among other marginalized communities.  Even as progress is being made, it must reckon with the increasing anti-LGBTQIA2S+ hate, both legislated and cultural. But as our view on what was previously inhumane treatment by police has progressed since the 70s, it will continue to progress until community consultation and engagement are the preferred method of conflict mediation with police-rather than pepper spray and tear gas, which are banned in the use of warfare by the Geneva convention. 

It was never Queer Concordia’s place to involve itself in what is ultimately a failure of municipal and provincial politics, yet given the community struggle that most others I interact with face on a daily basis I felt compelled to act on behalf of those I care about. 

Politicians and other officials in power claim they are open to sitting down and talking, but their solution is not a compromise either. Rather, their talks ultimately lead to nothing happening, and this is by design.

As someone who does not attend many demonstrations, it is clear to me they are not working as intended. While disruption is a necessary tactic, sometimes there doesn’t seem to be any follow-up, especially in the form of compromise. Those marching in the streets for their rights feel no reason to compromise on morality as they are the subject-not the perpetrators-of violence. Meanwhile, the police forces themselves make no effort to understand those against whom they routinely face off. Protests and other demonstrations should not feel like a face off with police to begin with and yet, routinely are. Moreover, politicians and other officials in power claim they are open to sitting down and talking, but their solution is not a compromise either. Rather, their talks ultimately lead to nothing happening, and this is by design. There is a lot of talking, but very little listening, and next to no action. 

I come from a very privileged background where I don’t worry about my identity of being transgender affecting many aspects of my life. Outside of the direct work I do for queer organizations, it rarely feels relevant to my life. To be able to say this is something that most can only dream of, but it’s a dream I hope I can work to provide to everyone. Given the current political climate, however, I am careful of when I mention that I am trans. In some spaces, such as among decision-makers, to do so could impact my credibility. Because I am passing, I am sometimes more able to get my foot in the door, which grants me time to form relationships with decision-makers, without my trans identity becoming the sole facet of who I am to people. It’s complex and compromising, but my privilege can be used as a strategic tool to help my community. For instance, I can mention the violence that has been carried out on Trans Day of Visibility, or more recently ‘Rad-Pride’, to my mayor and, by hearing it from someone she knows of rather than hearing second hand comments about ‘ANTIFA causing chaos in the streets,’ our concerns are therefore taken more seriously. 

It was a months-long struggle to get a meeting with someone who has real decision-making authority, and I found success by repeatedly humanizing myself, under the pretense of simply looking for a resolution. This pattern of humanization does work, and, to me, is the ultimate goal of political organizing from the bottom-up. There is value in having a seat at the table. And while mass demonstrations are an important tactic, they should not be the sole tactic, nor do they tend to award us a seat at the table. Fortunately, there are those who do care about their communities, and they do exist in governmental spaces if you can seek them out.  

Our collective struggle never begins nor ends with a single person, nor with a single tactic. All efforts are worth pursuing as any gains are worth the effort.

Meeting with members of the City of Montreal’s Executive Committee and Officials in charge of police, I can say that, in spite of the outcry against them, there are those in public service who care about the well-being of their communities. Our collective struggle never begins nor ends with a single person, nor with a single tactic. All efforts are worth pursuing as any gains are worth the effort. 

While our efforts to stop the police oppression towards the queer community are far from concluded, I see obtaining a series of meetings-including one with the chief of the SPVM-as  another step towards progress. It can be very easy to hold the moral high ground and never compromise or negotiate with those in charge, but our rights need to be gained somehow. I don’t think that ideological purity tends to lead to material change for marginalized communities. While we shouldn’t have to compromise, I do want to focus my energy on actually making life better for my community. Using privilege to act as an ally should not be disparaged because our goals can be reached in many different ways. Just as mass demonstrations aren’t for everyone, neither is the game of politics. Organizing for civil rights has never been from a single side as people and communities are not a monolith. Human rights and justice is the goal and we need to pursue the opportunities that are available to us to change the failing status quo. Solidarity from all walks of life is needed for liberation of all people, and that has never been clearer to me than now.