I had a similar experience to the one dramatized in the video. It was in the late spring, early summer of 1980. I had graduated from high school and eagerly looked forward to enrolling at Queen’s University in the Fall. I served as a Reservist in the Canadian Army in an artillery regiment in Ottawa and made friends with another young man I met in the unit. We became fast friends. I made friends with that man and others in my regiment. Still, I was ribbed, called the “Regimental Fag” in the banter among the ranks. When I came to the Christmas Party in 1979 with a young woman for my date, I was asked, “So, you like girls?” We spent time alone together at his mother’s house. We sat on the living room floor and listened to Beatles records on the stereo. I remember my overwhelming desire for him; I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him. I did not understand why I felt that way, which was horrifying. I dared not try it as that would have gone badly for me (assuming he was not gay or did not return my feelings). Had I been singled out as a homosexual in 1980, it would have meant dismissal from the Service. I would likely have lost my friends and become the butt of salacious gossip. 

In the summer months of 1980, before I left for Queen’s University, I served in the Regular Force at Canadian Forces Base Petawawa. The others did not know what to make of me. On the one hand, I am a gun owner and hunter–I took a couple of buddies from my regiment groundhog hunting. On the other, I liked reading Shakespeare instead of viewing skin magazines. I remember a man, a fellow Reservist from Ottawa (he served in an infantry regiment), who talked openly about how he and his friends “rolled the faggots at Major’s Hill Park.” By that, he meant they beat and robbed men they suspected were homosexuals. I did not know then that Major’s Hill Park was a cruising ground. That was the reality then; you could openly discuss harassing and bashing homosexuals without fear of sanction.

When I started at Queen’s, I learned that the public park adjacent to the campus was colloquially known as “Pervert Park.” It was a cruising ground, and the campus security often asked men to “move along.” I continued my Service as a Reservist while attending Queen’s. I had an attached posting to an infantry regiment in the city. The ribbing continued, and I learned that one of the Sergeants said behind my back, “He is a stereotypical homosexual.” Worse, I was punched by another student in a university pub. He was seized and detained by campus security. Another student who lived on the same floor in the university residence escorted me back to the dorm. I had no idea why I was assaulted. A short time later, I learned that a rumour circulated that I had tried to “pick up” the other man. That was not true. What I remember of the incident was that I may have inadvertently gazed in his general direction in my drunken stupor (getting shitfaced was a part of student life). Unfortunately, my reputation was sullied. 

That was the reality for gay men my age or men others thought were gay growing up. Male homosexuality was reviled. If people suspected you were a homosexual, you faced discrimination in employment and housing and ostracism from friends and family. It was acceptable to discuss male homosexuality freely using slurs such as “queer,” “fag,” “fudgepacker,” “fruit,” “poof,” and “poofter.” People commonly believed homosexuals were libertines, fixated on sex with no inhibitions about carrying it out in public parks and washrooms. The life of the male homosexual was one of hedonism with endless tricking and debauchery in bathhouses and leather bars. They used terms like “cornhole” and “buggery,” disdainfully imagining how gay men have sex. Worse still was the libel against gay men that they preyed on boys and could not be trusted to be around children.

In raising these points, I do not want the reader to feel bad for me or gay men my age. No, but I think it is vital that we recognize the stigma surrounding male homosexuality that existed well into the 20th century. It was a rough time, but thankfully the efforts of gay rights advocates of my generation and those who came before us who pressed the case for gay rights in the courts and legislatures, gay men live freely and openly in the present. I hope that is not lost to history. The current generation of gay men and succeeding generations would do well to remember how their freedom was won, that it was gay men who threw off the stigma. I would caution the younger generations of gay men not to take their freedom for granted. It was a long, hard-fought battle to abolish the stigma of male homosexuality, and if you are not vigilant, it could doubtlessly return.

Posted by Geoffrey