Troy Jackson: Words

Reverse gaybashing

http://www.fabmagazine.com/conversation/archive/329.html

I sat transfixed by the scene unfolding below. Seconds earlier, I had dialed 911 to report a possible gaybashing in progress. To my amusement, my assumption was totally wrong.

At around 3am the words “Fucking faggots!” woke my cat from his catatonic slumber on the windowsill. He moved to the chair while I perched myself in his place.

On Gloucester Street below, a young South Asian man, friend in tow, was yelling his homophobic garbage. On the corner, I could see and hear a young African Canadian male yelling “Stop calling me a fucking faggot!” He approached the duo and was followed by about five others, all looking like they were ready to rumble.

There was a brief scuffle resulting in the homophobe’s face being shoved to the ground. On his side, with his ear pressed to the ground, he struggled to no avail. His friend was nowhere to be seen.

“Does this guy know where he is?” I thought to myself. As if on cue one of the group of five—a woman dressed to party—hollered at the grounded homophobe: “Do you know where you are? You are in our neighbourhood. You can’t come down here yelling things like that!” She laughed with her girlfriend as they snapped pictures with their cell phones. “Your picture is going to be all over Facebook in the most compromising position!”

“Get off of me, you fucking nigger!” the man screamed back. The group berated him for going for the “race card.” They called him an idiot and left him lying on the street with nothing but his belittled male ego to show for the encounter.

The man continued yelling homophobic curses. He then stormed into the building across from me. I was stunned—the guy having the homophobic meltdown was my neighbour!

“Are you still there?” asked the 911 operator. I went down to the street to tell the officer who had just arrived what had happened. As I was describing the events, the homophobe returned with an aluminum baseball bat. Not wanting to be seen by a bat-wielding hater, I returned to my perch and listened to him lie about his innocence to the police. More officers arrived and he finally went back inside.

I went to bed with a smile on my face. The queers were taking their space back. In a way they were taking it back for me! If you can’t handle the queers get out of my neighbourhood.

BPM TV just aired Troy Jackson’s Pride special and are playing his first music video, “Koma.”

Battyboys bite back

http://www.fabmagazine.com/conversation/archive/332.html

Akim Larcher is the elegant, articulate and direct spokesperson for Stop Murder Music (Canada), the coalition responsible for the cancellation last month of concerts in Toronto and St. Catharine’s by dancehall artists Elephant Man and Sizzla. Both of these Caribbean icons are known for lyrics advocating killing queers. (Sizzla’s single “Pump Up” goes “Fire fi di man dem weh go ride man behind/Shot battyboy, my big gun boom.” It’s Patois but the call to burn and shoot gay “battyboys” is clear.)

In claiming that these lyrics are in violation of both the Criminal Code and the Canadian Human Rights Act, Larcher and the coalition have sparked a public debate about censorship. Did shutting down the concerts shut down discussion over the lyrics? Or did the threat of a boycott merely encourage the venues to make the right economic choice? Larcher says musicians should not be rewarded financially for “hate propaganda.” Even if these performers promise not to sing the songs in Canada, Larcher says they’re still singing them back home, a place where queers can be arrested, mobbed and murdered without consequence. This year alone, 98 gay and lesbian people have been attacked in 43 separate incidents.

Larcher, a Toronto lawyer, knows firsthand about this kind of violence. As a former model in St. Lucia, he achieved commercial television success and began to be recognized on the streets. But instead of requests for autographs, he would be confronted by passing groups of kids telling him, “We know you are a battyman.” Things escalated when he and his then-partner had a knife pulled on them while they were shopping. “The only reason the police investigated was because of who my father is, otherwise nothing would have been done.”

Being attacked by four men at an outdoor concert was his breaking point. “I always lived as an openly gay man with my family,” he says, “but I had to leave because I was becoming too wellknown. I feared for my life.” Larcher took advantage of his dual citizenship but knows most Caribbean queers don’t have the option of leaving—it’s them he’s working to help. “As long as I have the breath to effect change, I will bring my voice.”

Troy Jackson is a performer/activist and writer who interviewed Tegan and Sara in issue #330.

Dangers here and abroad
http://www.fabmagazine.com/conversation/archive/327.html

A Slurpee lands at my feet. It had been thrown by a hateful group of little boys who got offended at the sight of me holding my boyfriend’s hand.

“Batty boys!” they yell in Jamaican slang. “Fucking faggots!” I respond to the heterotrash du jour with something as equally profound, turn on my heel and grab my boyfriend’s hand. Later we share a bitter laugh about the candy arm of the boy who wasted his drink—his throw couldn’t even reach us.

Is this incident a big deal in Toronto 2007? I have been spat on for being gay (Vancouver 2000), been the victim of an attempted gaybashing (Vancouver 2001) and have had the pleasure of being racially profiled (Berlin in 2005). My boyfriend and I have had to confront the boys in front of us at the movies who were yelling, “Get him, fucking faggot” at the Spider Man 3 premiere (Toronto 2007). Should my boyfriend have to deal with being called a “fucking faggot” for glancing at someone on Church Street the morning after Pride (Toronto 2007)? Are these incidences even worth mentioning?

Well, not in comparison to the stories of my queer brethren across the globe whose societies (Jamaica, Afghanistan, Mexico—the list goes on), for the most part, view them as something less than human. But what they do is make me question, from time to time, my sense of freedom and safety. They make me realize that we still have more battles to be fought and words to be said, right here in Canada.

So I can handle a little Slurpee splashed on my feet. It keeps me on my toes!


Performer and BPM TV host Troy Jackson interviewed Dr. Draw for fab this spring.