Last weekend, you might have seen or heard about a small parade on Oxford Street.
Reports differed, but there were apparently anywhere between 200,000 and 400,000 people, watching 12,500 marchers adorned in 230-460kg of glitter (depending on who you read on Sunday morning).
I marched in the Mardi Gras parade for the fourth time. It was, as it usually is, a rush. People literally scream for you, and you as you really are (albeit covered in glitter). I will now forever have Ariana Grande’s ‘Break Free’ stuck in my head. I learnt the dance moves without being a dancer. We successfully found a cab home without too much drama. I’m still finding diamantes in my sheets, on the soles of my feet, behind my ears. And finally, I’m now the proud owner of a sign that screams enthusiastically, “I’m coming!”
All in all, a successful night.
In the days after the parade, the media was obsessed with the altercation between Rainbow Labor and No Pride In Detention. “Why can’t we all just get along?” everyone cried.
At Mardi Gras, our community is at its most visible. And because of this, we’re expected to be our most sanitised. Put on a happy face, smile, and set our grievances aside.
Mardi Gras is (now) a celebration of who we are, and how far we’ve come. But if celebrating who we are means censoring some of us, I want no part. Sure, the NPID float may have been “threatening”, but quite frankly, Mardi Gras should have separated the two floats weeks ago, and all of this would have been avoided.
But the NPID versus Rainbow Labor debate has been raging for a while now, and all the worthwhile opinions have been aired. The whole issue, though, did highlight something else we hide and sanitise at the very parade it’s supposed to be celebrating: our sexuality.
Yes, there are plenty of buff men in underwear kissing. There are couples, families, motorbikes, all proudly displaying LGBT sexualities and genders. There are even our leather and fetish friends. But they’re up the back, thrust at the end and forgotten about, while ANZ takes pride of place in the early slot.
In making ourselves acceptable for corporations, and for our 200-400,000 fans, we sanitise our community. We pretend we’re all gym buffs who don’t fight, who love each other all the time (monogamously), who just want to get married and live happily ever after, just like you.
I know all the things wrong with the parade, but I can’t help but love it. It’s because I fit in with the 12,500 people that march. I like glitter, minimal clothing, and I have just the one girlfriend who I can kiss, while you all cheer. I’m white, I’m able-bodied, I’m cisgender. I’m privileged enough to be able to be visible on the biggest night of the year.
But not all of us are. And that’s worth remembering on parade night. It’s also worth remembering that our government is actively putting LGBT people in danger by forcing their settlement in countries where homosexuality is illegal.
I managed to forget that briefly on parade night. I swept it under the rug so I could dance and have fun. But next year, if things haven’t changed, I won’t forget.
Our community, like every community, is fractured. We believe different things. We’re different people. Some of us are queer, or activists. Some of us are trans. Some are poly. Some want to get married. Some are able.
The parade puts our community on view, but with only a few faces. It’s worth remembering the faces we aren’t showing, and the facets we’re sanitising.
I have a T-shirt, named after a great magazine, that says “Dirty Queer” across the chest, shaped by fornicating cartoon characters. I often feel like I can’t wear this in public, like I have to censor myself. I get to turn my dirty queer off, hide it. But spare a thought for the rest of the dirty queers who Mardi Gras, and the rest of our society, tries to clean up and scourge off.
[No Pride In Detention at Mardi Gras 2016 photo by Katrina Clarke]
This Week…
Homosocial returns to Secret Garden Bar this Friday March 18, and now it’s weekly! This week, we’ve got Cunningpants, Gaff E, and Freestone. Starts early, ends early, so don’t be late.
Your late-night fun on Friday March 18 can be found at the Oxford Tavern, where Old Mate DJ, Mansion Lane and Ollie Henderson are taking over so you can work on your dance technique.
Mr. Ties[below] is back in town at the Imperial Hotel this Saturday March 19. If you like dicks dressed up with angel wings, don’t miss him.
[Mr. Ties photo by Byron Reza Afsha]
