In 1978, year of the first Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras, it was still against NSW law to be homosexual, lesbian or transgender (and would remain so, until 1982). Things are still very tough, but there has been an (albeit too slow) progression, and just as the young guys coming out today have it much better than I did, so too did I have it considerably better than those before me. In 1978 I was two years old, and the only semblance of gay liberation we've had in this country was slowly beginning (many forget that sexuality discrimination is the last big social prejudice issue to be tackled, far behind black power and women's lib - although all of these issues are far from resolved). In the Aussie 70's, it was still a common "sport" to go "poofter bashing", and there were multiple gay hate crimes - including many murders - to which the police mostly turned a blind eye to. Before any oppressed social group can be liberated, there must first be a recognition of the oppression (absolute oppression denies even the existence of the discrimination), and this had yet to be born in the social consciousness (Queen Victoria famously questioned the laws against homosexuality - not out of understanding and social justice, but on the basis that she simply didn't believe any human being could actually engage in the activity, therefore creating a redundant crime that nobody would consider committing, anyway).

 

Globally, however, gay liberation had first begun earlier in 1969, in America. New York's Stonewall Bar was raided by police (during an election campaign, of course), and a vital component of gay history erupted. These raids were by no means new; there were many gay-bar raids where patrons were arrested on various counts of "indecency" and then publicly outed and shamed in newspapers, their social lives ruined. But this time, those patrons began to fight back, resisting arrest and the police brutality that was the acceptable way for law enforcement to treat homosexuals. By the end of the evening, news had spread through the mostly gay surrounding community, and a crowd of 2000 eventually battled 400 riot police. The riot continued for two more nights. By the end, an oppressed minority had said "no" for the very first time.

This had an obvious impact on the global gay community, creating an effective shift in the mindset of the community, a message, a thought that together, people can stand up for their rights. Throughout the entire modern Western civilisation, acceptance and adaptation to living a cruel, unjust life on the basis of one's sexuality was the fate of gay men and women. And every action must begin as a thought, a collective ideology that spreads through a community, manifesting, growing in strength, until the thought is put into corresponding action. For years, the Sydney gay and lesbian community had commemorated (and, most importantly, celebrated) the Stonewall riots (there's a wonderful movie called Stonewall, for anyone interested in this tale). And ironically, this is how the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras began - as a homage to the plight of others (albeit as a symbol of their own). However, unbeknown to the marchers, it would become their own plight - their own "incident" - in its own right.

 

It's important now more than ever, as homophobia begins to make a politically and socially legitimised comeback, and as this week's 2007 Mardi Gras has already contained an eery echo of these police incidents of an ugly past. Yesterday, the gay community began crying foul when an official, perfectly legal mardi gras party was shut down by police - using reportedly heavy handed force - who had successfully obtained the go ahead to shut the entire party down, two hours early, although absolutely no specific evidence was gathered or presented; and this, amongst a sea of heterosexual parties surely warranting the same scrutiny of drug use (the public reasoning given to the dramatic raid). Many have now accused the police raid as being a cruel part of a new political direction to capitalise on the demonising of homosexuality, at a time which clearly throws the good done by the mardi gras for the broader community acceptance to the wind, for the chance for pre-election media PR (especially now that people are concerned over the recent death of a straight dance teacher at a straight party from an amphetmine overdose, that homosexuals are now being used to create the idea that police have tackled the issue - which had nothing to do with them - is a little... well... unfair, particularly when it damages what is supposed to be a time encouraging and creating further social acceptance and understanding). Party-goer, Jason Scott, told media, "It seems over the top and homophobic", and added the message of this raid to "a number of recent raids on clubs which makes gay people distrust the police." But the police tensions between the gay community run deep. In particular, they run back to 1978.

 

It was in the winter of 1978 (the parade was later moved to March, but was originally in June) that a group of gay men and women were inspired by watching films on the New York Stonewall riots, and decided to hold a street party, commemorating their comrades' plight in New York as a symbol of a new age of increasing rights for gay men and women. But what's important to remember is that organisers went about in obtaining legal permission to hold the event - which they received.

Sally Colechin, one of the organisers, recalled to ABC; "The evening was fantastic. It was cold. Everyone was wearing winter clothes. We were all gathered in anticipation of walking together down Oxford Street and hopefully encouraging a lot of lesbian and gay men to come out of the bars and participate - to feel proud to walk the streets. Unfortunately, the police got incredibly intimidated by that and almost from the beginning, as we headed down Oxford Street, they basically started sweeping us down the street - "Come on. Come on. Come on." So that by the time we got to Hyde Park, they had already decided they were going to disperse us, despite the fact that we had permission."

But this was just the beginning. Perhaps police had underestimated the numbers, and by the end of the gathering's walk (as they danced their way down Oxford Street, calling out to those inside the bars to take to the streets in an act of gay pride), the crowd was now 1000 strong. At this point, these original policemen were swapped for a new set who seemed to had been sent to the peaceful street party with one thing in mind - to stop it, at all costs. It was announced that their permission had been revoked, and when this failed to disperse the crowd, many of those who attended failed to understand the strange act the policemen suddenly committed around them, removing their badges and identity tags. There was a deliberate reasoning as to why they were doing this, however, as Colechin explains; "The police removed all of their number tags and their name tags so that they could not in fact be identified. And then that, in some way, gave them licence to behave in whatever manner they saw fit."

This "manner" included the bashing of countless men and women who were doing nothing but dancing in a street, proudly announcing their sexuality. Scores were arrested and taken into custody. The "riot" (though in truth, it was a rather one-sided riot that was misleadingly presented to the public as a violent clash of dangerous perverts) made media headlines, and Australia engaged in it's first ever social gay debate. Church leaders applauded, and the gay community finally became a vocal presence in human rights issues. It was successful enough for the charges to be dropped against those who were arrested. But if they thought they were about to walk away from the crime of their pride, scott free, they were very wrong.

Police handed the names over to The Sydney Morning Herald, who immediately published a shaming list of those involved in the parade, outing them in a time when it was legal to fire employees for being homosexual. Those involved lost their jobs, had their family's disown them, and some even had to move states (and all after enduring shocking police brutality for nothing more than announcing their existence). The Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras is today a great deal of fun for a great deal of people. But beneath the frivolity of the contemporary history of the parade, it's important to remember that it all came from a terrible event that wasn't a great deal of fun for those involved - brave men and women who stood up for their rights at a terrible cost. Ron Austin said it so simply but effectively; "They made Mardi Gras. It's their Mardi Gras."

Did the mardi gras disconnect itself from this history? Yes, it did. Did it become nothing but a good time, exploited by both many of the straight community who turned up (not for an important symbol of recongition and support, but for a party) and the government? You bet. Thousands upon thousands of straight people came, every March, to stand on milk crates, over-priced vodka mixers in hand, cheering us on. Yes, they thought we were good for a party, and yes, many of them just enjoyed ogling the freaks. Ask them if they'd feel comfortable knowing their four year old boy's kindergarten teacher was a homosexual, ask them if they'd let a lesbian babysit their kids, ask them if they'll be happy if their own sons are gay. Ask them if gay discrimination policies will be something that actively governs their political decisions, come election time (not too far off). And the government itself saw dollar signs, and next thing you know, the mardi gras is a state-aided tourism extravangaza. But where were the policies? How can you pour money into something because you see the economic possibilities for the city, but at the same time, draw up legislation stopping gay rights? Is this "accepted"? A few thousand young heterosexuals rock up to get smashed at the freak show, once a year, a vodka company jumps in with sponsorship, and the government rides the tourism wave (but not the human rights wave) and I'm supposed to sit back and remember the old days of discrimination? Hardly. Needless to say, with the recent conservative trends in the current social climate, the government support has waned, as potential tourism is weighed against PR.

And the tragedy of this was that even the young guys and girls coming through, the new generation of homosexuals and lesbians, now became completely naive as to the reason for the very thing so central to their lives as gay men and women. Ask the young guys and girls at the parade about 1978, and see how many can explain it. I'd say not a great deal. The ultimate irony of gay culture is that - in a cruel kind of symbolism - it has very little sense of self. I was 25, when I learned where the pink triangle came from (that is used mostly in shop and bar windows to denote "safe places" for gays and lesbians). The Jewish people have their recognition for the holocaust (as they should), but it wasn't just the Jewish race on Hitler's hit list. Homosexuals were among the first rounded up and shoved in death camps. Within these death camps, they were then segregated from the Jews, prostitutes and Jahova's Witnesses (also on the hit list), each having an upside down pink triangle to denote why they were there. But do school children learn about this part of the holocaust? Are there any prayers said for the gay men who were exterminated by nazis, during holocaust remembrance masses? No. Are there mini-series', and Hollywood blockbusters about the plight of the gay men in nazi death camps? No. Next time you're walking through the inner-city and you see a pink triangle on a business, spare a thought for the men who once wore this on their sleeve. Most of them were tortured and killed.

Today, of course, the gay debate is back with a terrible vengeance, an unfortunate bystander of the recent Western fear and the conservatism and collectivism that has come to rule the new century. If you're going to the mardi gras, have a great time. Note how well crafted the drag queen's dresses are, note how appealing the boys' abs are, if you must. But don't forget that the cute boy in the hotpants has none of the human rights you take for granted. Remember that he still puts up with discrimination on an almost daily basis, and has probably resided around Oxford Street, a place that exists out of segregation for survival. If he wants to marry the person he loves, he can't. If he wants to raise a child, too bad. If he wants his partner to receive insurance and have rights, if anything should ever happen to him, tough titties. His job prospects are less. If he ventures too far out of the inner city, he risks being abused, even subjected to violence. His family may very well have nothing to do with him. The leader of his country has held a press conference declaring him "wrong", and vowed to make sure his loss of human rights cannot be ammended. And of course, if he ever makes it on a reality ballroom dancing show, he'll be the butt of degrading humour, made to dance with a female partner and forced to feign an accepted hetero pose.

 

Many think the mardi gras is more a stance of acceptance than it is a protest against discrimination; but we are a long way off acceptance, and if the reports are correct (that floats this year are beginning to become more political, and less vacuous and gratuitous) then I'm most pleased. Reports already sight much higher numbers than recent years (the parade had certainly waned over recent times), and we can safely presume that the increasingly relevant wider social debate around sexuality has led to this (suggesting something positive in recognising a new need to make a stand). And I'm not being idealistic - on the whole, most will still be there for a party, but there is a growing undercurrent amongst the gay community that has been absent for far too long, now. Mardi Gras should be a time to acknowledge acceptance, and to respect it in those who have given it - but it should primarily look forward to those rights, that acceptance, yet to come. We are still discriminated against, we have less rights, and we are still mostly segregated. Segregation can never be equated with acceptance, and like it or not, the gay community is just that - a community segregated by discrimination. That's why there's a gay suburb, that's why there are gay clubs, and that's why the mardi gras happens in the centre of this district. Acceptance and social integration demand the abolishing of such culturally collective, segregated phenomena. The effective goal of gay culture, if it is to be accepted, should be the very destruction of this culture. Because however important and psychologically healthy it is (after being raised in an enviornment where you are discriminated against) to experience a feeling of belonging and to exist within a state where you are accepted, there is a point where eventually you are (though cultural adaptation means that most gay men living in these suburbs don't consciously see it as this) trapped in a social prison. It's important that such a place exists so long as there is discrimination, but we should never make the cell comfy to the point of forgetting the fight and that end goal. If it is true to that, I look forward to a world where there is no need to march down a street demanding human rights. I look forward to there being no gay community, because gay men do not feel like they have to run to a single suburb of the inner-city in order to functionally exist and experience the level of acceptance every human being deserves. The irony of mardi gras is that it should move toward a point where there isn't a mardi gras, at all. For now, it is still here - because the social injustice is. Don't just party on. March on.

Happy Mardi Gras!