My personal journey to belonging at Pride

By Tristan Coolman, President of Pflag York Region

The first Pride celebration I attended was when I was 19-years-old back in June of 2007. As a young man living in Markham, I went down to Toronto by myself on a Sunday morning and stayed to watch a bit of the march. For someone riddled with anxieties, common descriptions and vernaculars for these feelings weren’t widely expressed at the time. I had just started my coming out journey a few years back and had supportive friends. My mom was becoming a little more supportive, but I didn’t tell her where I was going.

Back then, I still called it a parade. Once it began, I didn’t stay for very long. I was overwhelmed with many emotions – a true sensory overload experience. There were so many people from diverse backgrounds and I mostly walked around with my jaw scrapping the pavement. Looking back on those memories through the lens I now have: young, thin, semi to very muscular body types were celebrated. I saw a lot of Whiteness and didn’t see many people like me with brown skin and “cub” features. I thought I was going to find a sense of belonging that day, but I didn’t. I left with more uncertainty.

It wouldn’t be until years later when a co-worker of mine, who I referred to then as my Fairy Gaymother, took me under his wing. I was invited out to the Pride march with his friends and for the first time stood through the whole thing. I was also invited to his house parties and he initiated conversations with me about queer things and even got me an invite to the exclusive Gentlemen’s Christmas party at The Carlu (haven’t been back since, but would love to go if anyone of influence is reading!). Thanks to my Fairy Gaymother, I gained a greater sense of understanding and belonging about what it means to be gay.

I remember standing with my friends at the Pride march in 2016 at the intersection of Church and Wellesley and noticing an odd but very lengthy pause in the parade. It was a time before social media platforms like Twitter were as popular and unlimited data plans made them more accessible. It wouldn’t be until I got home that evening that I had learned about the Black Lives Matter Toronto protest within the Pride march. I didn’t exactly know how to feel about it at the time, but I knew it was meant to challenge my knowledge of Pride, our queer history and how people like me were supported – people like my 19-year-old self from nearly a decade prior.

That summer, the Tragically Hip would begin their final tour and I began to follow the activities of the late Gord Downie much more closely. And as I read and casually researched the issues Black Lives Matter TO had brought to our attention, I gained a different view of what it means to celebrate Pride.

My personal “queerwakening” may have taken place outside of attending Pride, but it is through reflecting on my resturn visits that I can observe my personal journey of gained knowledge, experience and confidence in navigating queer spaces year-round. For me, it took an ally, a Canadian music icon and a successful protest within what had become an aspirational one to lead me through my own awakening and provide me with a better sense of belonging at Pride. It also led me to my volunteer work with Pflag York Region.

Our team at Pflag York Region is one of many LGBTQ2 support, education and resource organizations in York Region. This year marks 25 years of serving the residents of York Region, now with online support meetings and live streaming events on our YouTube page.

In 2019, I marched in my first two Pride’s in York Region and Toronto. I found my calling in volunteering with Pflag York Region, in taking in Pride from all angles – joy, protest, compassion, inclusion and honouring our history. Attending Pride in all its amazing imperfections didn’t exactly help me celebrate myself; it helped me find my place in the community and empowered me to carve it out.

There truly is nothing like experiencing Pride in person. Though the last two years have been observed at a distance, it has challenged many of us to bring our Pride into spaces and into times of the year where the focus isn’t limited just to June. My hope is that I will be able to attend Pride again in 2022, to be surrounded by community and allies as I march with my local team and colleagues down the streets of Newmarket and Toronto. My hope is that I walk by a 19-year-old kid attending Pride alone or with friends. They’re surrounded by Progress Pride flags, by people who look like them, and they see people who look like them marching in celebration and in protest. My hope is it doesn’t take them 10 years to receive that permission to feel empowered. My hope is they leave their first Pride feeling empowered.