Doing the rights Thing

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 14/09/2021 (1200 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Between the 1950s and 1990s, LGBT* members of the Canadian Armed Forces, the RCMP and the federal public service were systemically discriminated against, harassed and often fired as a matter of policy.

In what came to be known as the LGBT Purge, people were followed, interrogated, abused and traumatized by their own government. Survivors of this witchhunt launched a nation-wide class action lawsuit against the Canadian government in 2016, with a historic settlement being reached in June 2018. 

Part of this settlement included resources to mount an exhibit at the Canadian Museum for Human Rights (CMHR) that would honour the Purge’s victims.

In 2020, following revelations that the CMHR had forced employees at times to exclude gay content at the request of certain guests, including religious school groups, the future of the exhibit was uncertain. But in the last year, things have gotten back on track. 

“Our collaboration with the CMHR is now going well,” says Michelle Douglas, executive director of the LGBT Purge Fund. 

“The LGBT Purge Fund worked closely with the CMHR over the past year to understand all of the measures that would be taken to address the troubling racism and homophobia that was happening at the museum. We now have a high degree of confidence in the leadership at the museum and in their path forward. We look forward to working with them in telling the story of the LGBT Purge in a major exhibition that will launch in late 2024.”

Part of this newfound confidence is the result of a change of leadership at the CMHR, including the hiring of CEO Isha Khan. In addition, two new leaders joined the management team in April — Riva Harrison as vice-president, External Relations and Community Engagement and Haran Vijayanathan as director, Equity and Strategic Initiatives. 

The CMHR “is very committed to a new way forward,” says Harrison.

The museum still receives requests to censor certain content, but those requests are no longer honoured. 

“We don’t do that because it’s a very important part of Canadian history and it’s important that people realize all that was done to legalize gay marriage in Canada,” says Harrison. “It’s great to be part of an organization that is talking to the public in that way.”

Harrison became aware of the Purge as an arts reporter with the Winnipeg Sun, when she was covering Brian Drader’s The Fruit Machine for TheatreProjects in 1994. 

“That was the first time I really heard about it. Reflecting on it since then, the Purge is something that is not well known, including within our community. It is an incredibly important moment in our history. There was significant harm done and some pioneers who fought for epic change that has benefited many of us today.”

Many Canadians believe that these disgraceful activities stopped when then Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau famously said, “There’s no place for the state in the bedrooms of the nation.” In truth, the Purge lasted for 25 more years.

“It took a long while for provincial human rights codes to catch up with the thinking that was behind the Charter,” says Harrison, who has previously worked for Red River College, CentrePort and the Province in strategic communications. “Many of us believed we were OK, protected and equal. The reality was that for many people who worked in the federal civil service, they weren’t. They were victims of a terrible, dark moment in our history that I believe many Canadians are still unaware of.”

The theory behind the LGBT Purge was that homosexuals were particularly vulnerable to blackmail because many were keeping their sexuality a secret. 

Designed by Frank Robert Wake, a “fruit machine” resembling a dentist’s chair, with a camera in front, was created to root out gay men. Suspected people would be shown photographs of naked men, and if their pupils enlarged, they were deemed “guilty.”

“It’s good to remind Canadians that this did happen and that there were pioneers that underwent a tremendous journey and struggle to defeat this policy and to change the way these types of workplace policies are in our country,” says Harrison. “Many of us now benefit from their struggle and that needs acknowledgment and celebration and reflection.”

Planning is still in the early stages for the 2024 exhibit. Harrison says a tremendous number of physical artifacts exist to draw from. The CMHR is planning for events leading up to the opening, including a panel of survivors talking about their experiences.

Having joined the CMHR around the same time as Harrison, Haran Vijayanathan has been working with Winnipeg Pride as well as developing a Rainbow Equity council to solidify the CMHR’s relationship with the queer community. He feels it’s important to acknowledge that there is still hurt in the community. 

“It’s going to take some time and ongoing conversations and relationship building,” he says. “That’s the priority.”

“Queer history and queer contributions to human rights have always been undertold and no one really knows about it or learns about it,” says Vijayanathan. “We’re hoping this is an opportunity to start and continue that conversation and ensure that queer history is documented and available and accessible to everyone across the country and globally.”

Vijayanathan, who has 15 years of experience advocating for historically marginalized and underrepresented communities, has also been working to offer internal education to CMHR staff. “We’re looking at what we need to do to ensure that all staff are informed and inclusive and supportive of any visitor that comes into the institution. That includes not misgendering people to acknowledging that different people exist in different ways.

“We want people to walk away (from the CMHR) feeling empowered to make change happen rather than disempowered. That’s our goal right now — to create those brave spaces to have those conversations, both for staff and for visitors.”