Write, rally, revolt: Radical Queer Semaine
Queer community talks civil rights and captures the fag
by Laura Beeston
The word “radical” may get thrown around a lot, but what does it mean for Montrealers today?
The question keeps cropping up for the folks behind Radical Queer Semaine—a 10-day bilingual program of dialogue, activism, workshops, art and a gamut of gay ol’ times.
“For us, the meaning is rooted in community and it’s non-commercial,” said RQS collective organizer Jordan Arseneault. “It’s this burning desire to occupy a space together as a group where you can have a hell of a lot of free reign [...] that is totally as inclusive as possible of people who aren’t being heard in the mainstream.”
Born out of a reaction to increasingly corporate public queer events like Pride and Divers/Cité, RQS is working it independently for the second year running and hopes to create a homo haven that isn’t just a party scene—though there is plenty of that in the program.
“If [they] can’t dance, they won’t come to the revolution,” admitted Arseneault. “Yes, the community was built on the dance floor [and] partying is still totally at the centre of the queer culture, [but] if you’re not part of some queer student group, you might not have a space where you can go and discuss with like-minded people how to be more active and more informed by a diverse set of queer issues that are still affecting people in your community.”
Arseneault argued that freedom of speech, decriminalization and same-sex marriage are just the beginning of civil gains for queer folk.
“[Those] might be things you can check off a checklist, but they haven’t made life that much different for trans folk, sex workers, queers in prison or HIV-positive people in our community,” he said. “There is a sense of wanting to take up the torch.”
Laura Boo, an RQS volunteer who hosted an anti-capitalist dating and love letter writing workshop on March 6, agreed that the opportunity to discuss queer politics and grow as a community is what makes the week both rad and necessary.
“There are so many life experiences that I don’t have, but I choose to try to understand by getting together and learning from other people,” she said. “If people who are a part of my community are being fucked with, then I want to stand in solidarity with them.
“People who talk about gay liberation as being ‘over’ [ignore] others for whom this is not the case. I think it’s really important that we don’t ring the victory bell until everybody’s crossed the finish line.”
Keeping conscious of the battles that have yet to be won, while creating a space “free from the phobias and ‘-isms’ that are present to people,” is what Arseneault believes RQS is all about.
“Everything that we take for granted now is still something that could be taken away from us by people like the Harper government,” he said. “[RQS] is a recognition that you have people who, as a community, have each other’s back. It’s a really beautiful feeling to get you through the winter.”
The RQS program is packed with events as diverse as the participants, including a queer punk show, queer ballet lessons with “Noisy” Nora Rohman, karaoke and more.
“People who are new to the scene and don’t necessarily want to get involved in a political debate can get involved and engaged in other ways. There are lots of moments for that in the week,” said Arseneault. “Maybe you don’t want to join us for the open panel discussion on how sex is political, but everyone loves to play capture the fag!”
Besides, he said, if you’re going to go out and party, party with the people you love.
“If you go out and spend 10 bucks, why not put it not only where your mouth is, but where you want your ass to be, where you want your mouth to be and where your community is?”
Radical Queer Semaine runs until March 14 at the Mise au Jeu space (90 de la Gauchetière St. E., second floor). All events are free. For more information, see radicalqueersemaine.org.