Photograph By Zan Wimberly
I’ve been quite blown away by Sydney WorldPride, for it seems that every queen who survived the 90s was dragooned to do six shows and half a dozen exhibitions.
For my sins, museum staff rummaged around my archive box, and took my bike, which is now on display at the PowerHouse Museum Ultimo, along with the contents of my box, and an arty film the museum made about me.
A piece I wrote about the inclusion of bisexuals and trans people in queer community in the 90s was published in Tom Luscombe’s lovely coffee table book Folly of Gossip. And there have been a few other history projects, some at libraries, some on vodka-brand sponsored bus tours, that have made me conscious of those who worked with me for fairness and inclusion over the decades, but who did not live to see this celebration.
I carried them with me in my heart when I joined the rainbow throng walking triumphantly across the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
This is what winning is, I thought. Then, a couple of weeks later, actual nazis committed actual physical assault on pro-trans demonstrators in Sydney, and in Canberra the cops tackled Senator Lidia Thorpe to the ground for trying to speak at a “Let Women Speak” rally, because the transphobes organising this rally suspected this senator may not be transphobic.
Oh well, progress is seldom linear, more often two steps forward, one step back, so it’s back to the dance, because if social justice is what you work for, you’re never out of work.