Tension and Turning-Points, G20-Style

Canadian news outlets have been overflowing with a sick swirl of violence, mass arrests, and illogical political demonstrations for hours now and it seems the garish spectacle will march on into the night.

I am struggling to form coherent thought over top of the pulsing anger I harbour for these supposed "protesters." Granted, I know the violent ones are a small demographic mixed in to the overall legitimate protesting groups -- but to see the shattered glass of Queen St. West and gutted police cars while comparing it to the gorgeous memories I garnered just last week launches me into this loop of anger, disbelief, and frustration.

The blood boils with each new storefront smashed and looted. And to know there are friends trapped in the downtown core based on the location of their homes pushes me further into this livid state.

Toronto is being ripped apart for what?

It seems like such a tragic joke to hear protesters yelling at police officers to, quote, "get a real job," even while these same shit disturbers have the time to march through the streets on weekday afternoons leading up to the actual G20 Summit. Go figure.

I admit, I have a bias toward Canadian officers at the heart of this ordeal. I have immediate connections with one of the officers donning riot gear this weekend. In fact, she holds quite a central position in the background of this blogette right here. When I was sixteen, she gave me a shot as an HMV employee when I had no previous work experience to speak of. She could be tough when she needed to, but she was patient with her employees and we knew she would support us in the face of customer-instigated adversity. In essence, she is the one manager I compare all other managers to. Her dream was to enter the police force and I am glad to note she achieved it after intense training and dedication to the cause.

On another clever note, she was also the first out and proud lesbian I met. She even helped me find that initial shot of self-confidence while I was first coming out to myself. Though I never came out to her while we worked together, it was just her presence and her openness about herself that helped me understand how to live as an out woman. She was a mentor without even realizing it.

And now, she is stationed in the downtown core for the express purpose of minimizing destruction and corralling protesters.

Ah, quite the woman.

Well, this has been an abrupt change of pace with this post. What started from a need to vent about the damage done to our fair city has transformed into praise for one helluva woman. I love how the mind works sometimes, especially once sleep-deprived and on the cusp of a cold.

I am sending out all positive vibes to the friends at the centre of "Fortress Toronto" and to the women and men in blue who are working around the clock for us all. Here is hoping the night proves to be a short one.

Rain on This Parade

While the rest of North America unfurls their rainbow flags and storms the streets with effervescent Pride, Toronto is bracing for an unpredictable weekend.

Saturday heralds the G20 Summit in our midst -- world leaders are mingling, police forces are building, and protesters are rallying (or whining, depends on an onlooker's POV).

And, one of the first casualties this weekend is, of course, Toronto Pride.

Rumours throughout the queer centres of the city signal to alternative Pride events taking place across Toronto, most of them quiet affairs set in private venues far removed from the front lines. As for the main parade and its overdose of glitter, local queers and our gorgeous visitors await the postponed festivities scheduled for July 3rd and 4th.

What a drag.

Granted, it's a difficult position to complain from -- I for one want nothing to do with Toronto this weekend. The G20 Summit and its crush of protesters promises widespread disruption and a distinct decrease in civil liberties in exchange for enhanced safety. I've heard the criticism over this complete erasure of official Pride celebrations for such a tense climate, but, well, I have to side with organizers on this one.

Pride Toronto attracts three million or more revelers to the city -- how wise is it to blend all that with protesters promising violence and police forces armed with sound cannons and riot gear?

Still, it's tough to know Toronto queers are missing out on celebrating 2010 Pride with our sister cities. Though, I imagine plan-oriented kids foresaw the issues at hand and prepared a two-part Pride celebration -- this weekend encouraged travelers to discover their Pride in other Canadian cities or other North American destinations while still leaving ample calendar space for Toronto's later activities. See? It's possible to find the hidden opportunities even within "Fortress Toronto."

In other news, I foresee difficulties on the horizon for July 3rd and 4th -- as of this moment, I am coming down with what promises to be a wicked summer cold. The same woman at work who made me sick for Thanksgiving 2009 and gave me the flu right in time for my Sister's New Year's Ever wedding has now passed on another nasty cold to me right in time for Pride.

Did I mention this would have been the first Pride I celebrated as a completely out individual?

Yep.

Nothing significant or anything, right?

I am more than irked. I could use stronger, more foul language to describe this news, but it is futile. The germs have taken root and are starting their slow infestation. Seems my immune system is taking its signals from the Summit this weekend -- it is mass chaos in a microcosm.

Bah, physical metaphors. Quit being so well-timed.

More updates to follow on both fronts. Here's to Toronto and this body of mine making it out alive.