An Early Farewell
The Manchester Pride
Weekend comes to an end today, and it could not have come much sooner. The
August Bank Holiday, from Friday until Monday, is taken over with festivities,
revelry, and debauchery, depending on what takes your fancy.
I would rather be
elsewhere, however. Last year I was in Cape Town, in the company of my husband
and taking things at my own pace.
Falling Out
In the thirteen years
that I have lived in Manchester, I have grown progressively disillusioned with
the event, both for its commercialisation and its seeming lack of broad
representation.
From the day in the
Easter break of 2013, when a friend and I were refused entry to a club for no
discernible reason beyond bouncer ego and racism, I have fallen out with Canal
Street, which constitutes the main part of the Manchester Gay Village, along with
the adjoining streets.
What frustrated us
further was that there seemed to be no recourse, no obvious means of
registering our displeasure. Yet a search of the Internet turned up news
reports of exactly these discriminatory door policies, predicated not on fact
but on prejudice, assumption, or the subjective judgement of the door staff at
many venues.
An Unfair Assessment
That experience
coloured my view of the Gay Village and left me with the impression that all
the associated voluntary support organisations were of the same ilk. It was an
unfair assessment, I concede, but it took hold because none of the ones I hoped
might help were willing to do anything.
I live on the border
of the village, yet I am the least engaged with the place, apart from walking
through it if I need to get to other parts of the city.
Rights and Nuisance
As for Pride itself,
the whole area is cordoned off into an enclave of activity that requires a
ticket to attend; even so, you cannot be denied the public right of way to
traverse it if you need to get through.
That, some years ago,
became a point of contention between the security personnel, who did not know
the law, and the police, who affirmed our rights.
Beyond that, there is
the unneighbourly inconvenience of the cacophony, and of inebriated and sickly
attendees becoming a nuisance on our side streets.
Not My Demographic
For what is supposed
to be a community event, given the cost to attend and the interest in whatever
entertainment is arrayed, I have found that I am probably not the demographic
best served by most of what goes on there.
When I have deigned
to purchase a ticket, I have never attended any of the performances; and once
caught in the thickened crowd, I am already suffocating, so I rush back home
for respite.
It is simply not a
place of any comfort, whether alone or in the company of others. Now, I avoid
it altogether and skirt the place, rather than insist on my right of passage.
Losing Its Way
Beyond community,
Pride is supposed to help good causes, and we have many that represent
different interests.
A few years ago, the
establishment running Pride hiked prices, made their greatest profit, and then
reduced their charitable contributions. It had lost its way, trying to rival
and outdo the events in Birmingham and London by bringing in global acts best
viewed at entertainment venues.
These acts were an
exorbitant waste of resources in the quest for fame, and it led to the
eventual, and just, collapse of the organisation, which still owed lesser acts
who had given their time, resources, energy, and talent in the community
spirit.
A Case for Change
This year, we were
assured that the event would be more representative. I have not noticed as
much. The ticket prices were still high; and whilst the acts celebrated more
local talent, so that the total cost came to twenty per cent less than what was
paid to the main act last year, I am still failing to find any sense of
engagement.
My premise for
sponsorship is broader accessibility and affordability, without anyone having
to declare that they are in straitened circumstances to qualify for a
concessionary ticket, assuming any are available at all, or so few that access
becomes a lottery.
The influence
sponsors hold over Pride management should be codified as invitational rather
than institutional, never commanding or directing what Pride can and cannot do.
There must be strict autonomy, alongside broad community representation in the
decision-making process.
Watching from Afar
Apart from stepping
out of my apartment block onto the street with my folding chair to watch the
parades on Saturday, which had over 150 distinct participants, including
organisations, companies, clubs, charities, establishments, and political
parties, I have done nothing more.
The clouds did gather
and rain on the parade at certain times, but it did not dampen anyone's
enthusiasm. I was in my rain jacket and poncho, which kept me dry, though some
braved the chill and the wet as if it were a bright summer's day.
Even the Service for
Pride at Manchester Cathedral, which I would usually steward and sometimes take
part in, I gave a miss. Two invitations to garden barbecues I ignored, rather
than offer my regrets and risk being persuaded against my own inclination.
Protest and
Celebration
It is my view that
the Pride principle has long deviated from its founding ethos of both protest
and celebration; it has become an over-commercialised affair that now merely
grants access to those with the means, rather than a broad community
celebration that recognises the diversity it comprises, in groups large and
small. Pride has drifted from access towards exclusivity.
So the question
remains: whom is the modern Pride for? The answer I have seen suggests it is
not for everyone, nor for the well-meaning members of the wider community who
wish to embrace one another in the pursuit of human rights and dignity, both
for those affected and for their allies. These are all reasons why I am no more
supportive of Pride in Manchester today than I have been for the past few
years.
No Curmudgeon
As peace returns to
my city by the end of today, I am not being curmudgeonly. We can simply agree
that not everyone is energised by these things, and that there should be
acceptance of this without heaping on any kind of excoriation.
Maybe, next year, I
shall be just as absent from this annual charade, in the company of my husband,
who, for his lack of exposure to these settings, is far too easily excited
about Pride events for my liking or comfort.
