The 2013 Toronto Jazz Festival descends on the city this Friday with a huge “free for all” event. That means all of Friday’s programming at every Jazz Festival venue is, yes, completely free of charge. There will be concerts from local favourites Molly Johnson and Mary Margaret O’Hara, plus a show by Smokey Robinson and Martha Reeves, who will be launching the fest from its epicentre, Nathan Phillips Square.

Here’s a rundown of some of the shows worth checking out on Friday—and during the rest of the festival, when you’ll actually have to pay.

Folks who are planning on having a swim in the pool at Scadding Court Community Centre over the next few days may find themselves a little disappointed. Those who want to go fishing, however, will probably be ecstatic.

For the rest of the week, the Community Centre will be holding its annual Gone Fishin’ event, meaning its indoor pool will be an indoor fish pond. The pool has been drained, dechlorinated, and refilled with 2,000 rainbow trout, to be caught by local children and families.

At first glance, Women’s Arm Wrestling and Pride Week seem like an odd combination. One is a pro-wrestling-esque promotion that features women with elaborate stage personae test their arm strength, the other is a celebration of sexual liberation and equal rights. The two things don’t seem to have very much in common.

On closer examination, there is a certain logic to WAW’s presence at Pride. If ever there was an appropriate time for an event that features female feats of strength, men and women in booty shorts, go-go dancers in drag, and a high-camp sensibility, Pride Week would be it. And judging by the response from the crowd at WAW’s Pride tournament, which took place on the Alterna-Queer Stage just prior to Sunday’s parade, Women’s Arm Wrestling may become a regular part of the festivities.

According to co-founder and referee Scotty B. Goode, the events started after he and colleague/local promoter Steve Rock saw a spontaneous women’s arm-wrestling match break out in the bar.

“Some girls started arm-wrestling and the whole bar seemed to get off on it,” he said. “Then all the girls in the bar started arm-wrestling at their own tables, and we though it would be good to do it for charity.”

Scarlett O’Terror and Faye Tality are two of of the organization’s longest standing competitors. The Pride tournament ended with Tality, a crowd favourite and bad ass with a heart of gold, losing to the loathsome heel O’Terror. Away from the arm-wrestling table, the two athletes—whose real names are Amanda Flynn and Stephanie Flynn—are actually sisters.

“Steve and Scott are all really good friends of ours, so when they came up with the concept, they mentioned it to us and we had to get involved,” said Stephanie.

In the almost three years since the first event, Goode says he’s seen a tremendous change in terms of both stage presence and athletic performance.

“The theatrics have grown, he said. “The girls are getting better and better at competing and creating characters and making matches exciting.”

Aurielle St. Cyr is WAW’s ring card girl, treasurer, and the final third of the organizing team. She says that the Pride show is just the first part of a much larger expansion plan.

“We just got back from New York,” she said. “We’re looking to go across Canada, go out west, take it to Montreal. It’s just getting bigger and bigger and we’re giving more and more money to charity.”

Photo by Skye Chevolleau/courtesy of the artist.

Lucas Silveira
North Stage (Church Street and Dundonald Street)
July 1, 7 p.m.

Cliks frontman Lucas Silveira has gone through a number of changes in the past couple of years. The most obvious one was physical. Silveira, who was born a woman but has been living as a man for most of a decade, started hormone therapy to appear more masculine starting in 2010. As it turns out, his physical transformation was accompanied by a change in musical direction. Silveira took some time to talk to Torontoist about changing his body while saving his voice. Read the edited and condensed interview after the jump.

What’s the difference between Lucas Silveira, Cliks frontman, and Lucas Silveira, guy with a guitar?

The difference is I’ve really grown as a human being in the last few years, for many reasons. Part of that growth was an artistic growth that was very, very different from anything I’d done with The Cliks. I started doing covers, first off, because I love doing covers, but also because I felt more comfortable singing in the new artistic place that I’m at… Me and my manager were talking about it: how can I introduce my fans to this new music that’s coming from me and sort of ease them in? I think doing a solo acoustic album kind of helped with that. I was doing my new stuff, which is, for lack of a better term, softer, as well as stuff like the Kanye West cover that had a little bit more soul in it, which is kind of the direction I’m going in, and I wanted to show people I could still sing.

Why do you think there was that sort of change to your artistic process?

I think it’s to do with a couple things. One is age; I’ve mellowed out a lot. The other is that I started doing hormone therapy with testosterone. It was the weirdest thing, man. I don’t know if it was that my voice changed so I was feeling more comfortable, or if it was actually a hormonal thing, because hormones do weird things to you, things you’re not expecting, but I started writing soul music. I always tell people hormones turn you into a black man.

I’ve always loved soul music. I grew up on The Jackson Five, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye, all that stuff… but every time I tried to sing it before, it just didn’t feel genuine enough. I think it had to do with the separation between my voice and the music I was singing. It would make me angry, so I became dissociated with the music I loved, and started playing rock. When I think back about what I was doing, I think one of the reasons I went towards rock and roll was because it had such a masculine energy, or I felt, anyway. And I think it was to compensate for the fact that I couldn’t do the other stuff. The harder I got, the more masculine I felt. When I started testosterone, I felt masculine all the time, so I could move back to what felt familiar.

The Cliks are still a going concern then?

Definitely. People say “Oh, you guys broke up.” I’ve been the head of The Cliks since it started. At the beginning, it was three completely different members than it was on the second album. It’s always been my project backed by musicians. It just so happened that when we came into the spotlight, I had a particular set of band members who wound up leaving… That has not aided in the idea that the band is still together. I still see websites saying the band has broken up. That’s not true. I am the band.

So is the difference between The Cliks and Lucas Silveira that one’s a rock act and the other does more soul stuff?

Right now, I’m using my solo stuff to transition my fans into the fact that I am going to be doing a record [as The Cliks] that is going to be very different. It’s more of a transitional thing.

When you were doing hormone therapy, were you concerned about what would happen to you as a singer?

Oh God, yes. Dude, I didn’t do it for six years. I was out as a trans man for six years, and I didn’t do it, and that was why. I was told by everyone who had known anybody who had done “T,” which is what we call it, that they lost their voice. I was like ‘Fuck it, I’m not going to be able to do this.’ Then it just got to a point when the band split the last time, where I had to do it. I was so unhappy. Then I started to do more research… and I ended up finding guys on the internet who had figured it out and done it the right way. I just started to ask a million questions, like a little kid… And then I just went really, really slowly. You have to transition really, really slowly, and it’s a pain in the ass, it’s hard on your body and it doesn’t feel the best, but at the end of the day I kept my voice, and that’s what really matters to me… It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.

I feel awkward with the phrase role model, but do you think you’re a role mode for trans people?

I didn’t want to believe that was true. I hate that word, “role model”—it means that I have to behave… People used to say that to me, and I didn’t believe it, but then I started to give myself a little bit of credit. It takes a lot of energy and power just to be yourself, regardless of if I’m trans or not trans. People are afraid of so much, and you have to be willing to give up that fear in order to be happy.

What’s your favourite part of playing Pride?

The people, man. People come up to me and say they make a point to see The Cliks every year. That’s awesome.

Fawn Big Canoe
OLG Central Stage (Church Street and Maitland Street)
June 30, 10 p.m.

DJ Fawn Big Canoe—yes, that’s her real name—has been a fixture in Toronto’s club scene for over a decade, playing everywhere from small lounges to massive clubs. This year, the house music veteran returns to Pride to play her biggest outdoor gig to date at Pride’s central stage. She took a few minutes to talk to Torontoist about playing large spaces and why she loves Pride. Read the edited and condensed interview after the jump.

How did you get into DJing?

Growing up, that’s what was getting popular, electronica and all that kind of stuff. Also, it was less noisy than the drums.

You have a really prime spot this year. How did you get that slot?

They approached me last year, and had me on a side stage, the Village Stage, and apparently the stage manager had rave reviews about me, so they asked me to do it again on a bigger stage. I’m actually doing the OLG Stage and the one I did last year. I’m literally unplugging and running right to the next one.

Is this the biggest system you’ve ever played on?

I was one of the many DJs who played Circa when that was a thing, so that would have been similar, but this is the biggest outdoor one for sure.

What are you going to do to move the crowd in that big space?

I’m going to stay away from the Top 40 that they’ve been hearing all day, be a little bit sexier, a little bit bassier.

What’s the one song that’s been in your arsenal the longest?

It’s probably that old ’80s acid house tune, “Work it to the Bone.” There’s another one that’s not always crowd-appropriate called “Gimme Head,” and it’s just the bass and a guy talking about getting his dick sucked. That’s a popular one with ladies and gents. Anything about sex goes over well.

What’s your favourite part of playing Pride?

The energy; there’s nowhere else you can go in Toronto, save for a few clubs, that will have people going crazy for the entire show. That and it’s a holiday. It’s like gay Christmas. Everyone’s in a great mood.

DJ Blackcat
OLG Central Stage (Church Street and Maitland Street)
June 30, 4:45 p.m.
TD Wellesley Stage (Blockorama) (Yonge Street and Wellesley Street East)
July 1, 9:10 p.m.

Pride revelers may not realize it, but Church Street would be a very different place if it weren’t for Mykel Hall, better known as DJ Blackcat. Rihanna, Lil’ Kim, and Nicki Minaj may all be modern club staples, but before Blackcat came along, no one would even think of playing hip-hop or R&B at a gay bar in Toronto. Originally a house DJ, Blackcat was the first DJ to play hip-hop, R&B, and reggae for a primarily gay audience in Toronto. Twenty years after first stepping behind the decks, Blackcat still has a reputation for diverse sets that make crowds get rowdy. He took a minute to talk to Torontoist about Blockorama, Brazilians, and Beenie Man. Read the edited and condensed interview after the jump.

How did you start DJing?

I’ve always had a big love for music. I guess I would say it started with my father, but he wasn’t a DJ, he just loved music, and I’d play his records… Later on, I had some friends who were DJs and I loved what they did, so I kind of would watch them and taught myself. I’m a house music DJ, that’s how I started out. House is my first love. I taught myself to spin house and then gravitated to other things… Now house music is the one I spin the least, but it’s still the one I love the most.

How did you move from house to other genres?

There is a promoter named Giles Belanger. He heard one of my cassette tapes and liked it. He did some research, found out who I was, and we met up and spoke about it. He said that there was no hip-hop and R&B and reggae in the community, and that I would be a good match… My parents are Jamaican, so reggae music has always been in my life, and I’ve always been a big fan of hip-hop and R&B… My first regular gig was called Blackcat Sundays, and we used to have people lined up all the way down Church Street. I was the only one playing hip-hop and R&B and reggae on Church Street at the time.

What’s your favourite part about playing Pride?

I guess it would be seeing the people that come back year after year to see me spin, and getting in touch with them after a year and finding out what their year has been like. I used to give out CDs every year, and they’d come back to Toronto every year to get another CD from me. They’d get in touch with me and say that after 10 years, they’re still listening to this CD I made, or that they’re in Brazil and playing my CD in a club in Brazil. Thinks like that, I find those things amazing. The other thing I look forward to is Blockorama. I love spinning that stage.

Explain Blockorama for those who don’t know about it.

The original thought of it was to have a queer-friendly, family-friendly space for people of colour. Originally I think there were about five people putting it together, and at the time, there weren’t a lot of DJs, so they asked me to be part of it, and I said yes. There were three of us, we were the only DJs for the whole day, and we played music for 11 hours. We had drag queens there, and it was just a lot of fun. It just got bigger and bigger every year, it has its own energy. Now there are tons of DJs and you have to fight for your spot… I like the fact that now, Blocko is a melting pot, but it is also still a space for people of colour. I love that. You’ll find every nation in Blocko. It’s this thing that everybody talks about and needs to be involved in every year.

You’ve just started making the mix CDs again. How come?

I missed them. People were coming up to me and saying “I miss my Blackcat CDs…” I stopped making them about three years ago… They’re a lot of work, because I mix them live. I don’t use a computer. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so when you’re mixing live and you make a mistake, you have to start all over again. You can’t just go snip it out. So they take weeks to make, and by the time I’m done one, I kind of don’t want to play those songs anymore because I’ve heard them a million times. But I said I’d do them again for my 20th anniversary [of DJing], so I’m doing a hip-hop and R&B one for Pride and a reggae one for Caribana.

You work with some genres that occasionally have homophobic lyrics. How do you deal with those?

I’ve never really had an issue. For me, if I don’t like it, I won’t play it. There are a few songs out there that have negative connotations towards gay people, and I just don’t play them. It’s an issue in reggae music. I don’t really have that problem in hip-hop and R&B… I wouldn’t boycott an artist completely because I don’t like some of his songs… Beenie Man has some songs that have negative lyrics, so I won’t play those songs… But I won’t not play him entirely. He has a song with Janet Jackson, so you know I’m going to play that… People don’t always agree with me on that, but I don’t care. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do.

What songs have stayed in your arsenal the longest?

I’ll break it down by genre. For house music, the Whitney Houston version of “I’m Every Woman.” That’s a song that just stands through time immemorial. For reggae, it’s a song called “Dancehall Queen.” You can put that on any time and it will get everyone moving, and that’s from 1997 or ’98. Hip-hop and R&B-wise, there’s that anthem [by Fatman Scoop and Crooklyn Clan.] When you put that song on, even if the crowd is completely dead, they’ll start jumping.

Anything you’d like to add?

I’m doing the official urban closing party for Pride. Every month I do a party called Go Hard. This is my Go Hard: Swag 2 Da Roof Shut ‘Em Down Party. It’s going to be at Goodhandy’s, with myself, DJ Unruly Twin, DJ Pleasure, and JJ Rock. We’re going to be playing everything, hip-hop, R&B, reggae, house, pop, and I’m giving out 100 of my mix CDs.

Sikh Knowledge
OLG Central Stage (Church and Maitland streets)
June 30, 2:30 p.m.
Viagra Village Stage (Church Street and Wellesley Street East)
June 30, 8:15 p.m.

Montreal-based hip-hop artist Sikh Knowledge is an anomaly in a number of ways. He is the ultimate hip-hop all-rounder, working as a producer, MC, and DJ. He draws influences from outside the genre, threading bhangra, Punjabi folk, reggae, and electro into his diverse sound. He has a day job as a speech language pathologist, and he is, as far as anyone knows, the world’s only openly gay Sikh producer and rapper. He’ll be making his Toronto Pride debut this weekend, playing two free shows on Saturday. He took a minute before heading down to Toronto to talk about everything from how his sexuality influences his sound to what he looks for in an MC. Read the edited and condensed interview after the jump.

You’re a producer/DJ/MC; which one of those things came first?

Producer, for sure. It started at the temple, growing up. I was just kind of thrown into performing and making music, then I started producing reggae and hip-hop early on in high school, when I was about 14. I started rapping shortly after I started producing. I started rhyming when I was 17 or 18.

You’re an out gay Sikh hip-hop artist. Those things don’t usually go together. What’s the response been to your sexuality from both the Sikh community and the hip-hop community?

The Sikh community shows me 80 per cent love, 10 per cent hate, and 10 per cent just questioning and agnosticism. I think people within the community are still kind of afraid to address it. If I go to the temple, kids will say “Oh, you’re Sikh Knowledge, that’s so cool. What are you working on next?” rather than coming at me with some kind of homophobic slur. And I do have a professional life outside of music as well… I’m a speech language pathologist, so that kind of trumps the opinions of our elders. If you’re a working professional, that makes you immune to a lot of crap from them.

In the hip-hop community, it’s good. I don’t come with being gay as the first thing on my resume, you know? [MCs] hear something you’ve done, they like it, and they reach out. If someone has a problem with me being gay, I’d never know about it, because they would never reach out to me in the first place. I get nothing but love from my Montreal colleagues.

Who are your favourite MCs to work with?

I have two. Can I say two? My two are Shogun, from NDG in Montreal, and Humble the Poet from Toronto.

What makes an MC a good MC to work with?

Someone who’s an instrument in themselves. When I receive the a capella, there’s no jazzing up that needs to be done, in content or in style. There’s very little that needs to be added or devices that need to be used to make them interesting. Humble the Poet has the illest content in the world for me, I love what he rhymes about, and his flow is good, too. Shogun is ultra-creative and has the most amazing flow ever. They can just give me a capellas and I work around that. I don’t even have to be in studio with those guys.

Have you ever turned down an MC because you weren’t feeling them?

For sure. I’ve turned down remix opportunities because of that. It just ends up being that usual content, or stylistically the status quo. That doesn’t mesh well with me. I like clever and intelligent design. I think it’s interesting hearing beats from a gay producer, because it’s a different take on something that’s inherently macho. When lyrics come off to me as too heteronormative and kind of the usual crap, tough guy-ness just doesn’t fly with me, unless it’s done in the spirit of being funny, or speaking out on something in a very real way. But I’ve passed up opportunities to remix those sorts of things.

So, are you saying your sexuality influences the way you make beats?

Yeah, absolutely. The way I progressed as a producer, when I started, the more rugged it sounded the more I loved it. It was like the bears of hip-hop beats. But then I started to appreciate that people just want to smile and dance, but I still couldn’t get with the twinks of music, which is super electro, 130-beats-per-minute, trance-y kind of shit… So for me, the question is how can I keep it grassroots and bear-ish, and still leave room for conventional beauty that people can appreciate? That’s why I love J. Dilla and I also love Diplo, even though they’re miles apart. Diplo just gets people to move, and Dilla had a flair to make people think and appreciate the beauty behind what he did.

My sexuality does influence the way I make beats, because I have this huge desire to communicate beauty the way I see it. In many professions, that’s what gay people do. If I can get a little philosophical here, it’s nice to think that gay people bring beauty to the world, and that can be a function. Statistically, gay people find themselves in design, in professions where aesthetics are important. I’d like to think my sexuality influences the aesthetic of the beats.

What are you most looking forward to about playing Pride?

Being outdoors in front of a crowd, being myself on stage, introducing that audience to a homosexual guy who’s not what media portrays gay people to be. I have a beard, I’m not white and I love hip-hop and reggae, and I rhyme. That’s not what the world is used to, and that should change.

The diversity of genders and ages and sexualities and languages and heights and skin colours and physical abilities and species and religions and political affiliations and levels of affinity for topless sparkly mud wrestling makes it hard to define a crowd at any Pride event. But when it comes to the crowd gathered in Norman Jewison Parkette for the Trans Rally and Trans March on Friday evening, there is one label that sums the whole crowd up nicely: big.

The crowd of several hundred was spilling out of the parkette and onto the bordering Isabella Street and Earl Place. Before the march got underway around 7:30 p.m., the rally portion of the evening ran for about an hour, giving the crowd a chance to hear from speakers from across the trans community. Meanwhile, tables were set up for sign-making and tarps were laid down for the aforementioned sparkly mud wrestling.

Many speakers chose to focus on how far trans rights have come in the last few years, with frequent mentions and cheers for recent legislation like anti-bullying act Bill 13 and Bill 33, also known as Toby’s Act, which amended Ontario’s Human Rights Code to protect gender identity and expression. “Not only is it wrong to discriminate,” Pride board member and open trans woman Susan Gapka told the crowd, “It darnwell is illegal!”

Much in line with Pride’s official theme of “Celebrate and Demonstrate,” not all the speeches were so cheer-inducing, with Kenji Tokawa speaking out about the unique difficulties faced by trans men. Savannah Garmon of Queers Against Israeli Apartheid used her speaking opportunity to highlight the case of Cece McDonald, a trans woman who is currently being held in a men’s prison after pleading guilty to manslaughter.

With ongoing support from volunteer groups like Trans Pride, programming for the trans community is becoming more and more a part of Pride—though it’s still not as integrated as some would like. The Trans March has been part of Pride since 2009, and for almost as long as that, a rogue Trans March has accompanied the official one. Friday was no exception.

After the Pride-sanctioned march south on already-closed Church Street, a splinter group of marchers turned west on Wood Street and proceeded to march south down Yonge Street, along Dundas, and back north up University Avenue before going back to the official Pride zone in the village. (Xtra has some video interviews.)

Although a sense of community is important for any group to feel like they’re making an impact, rally speaker Lexi Tronic had an important message: “We can not only feel strong in numbers. We must feel strong on our own with our heads held high. Know that we demand to be respected as individuals. We are a diverse community, and our diverse community will back us up and kick some fucking ass.”

And that they did.

Last year's Pride Parade. Photo by {a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jumphigh/5899221567/"}eddiejdf{/a}, from the {a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/torontoist/"}Torontoist Flickr Pool{/a}.

Pride weekend is just around the corner, and the familiar feelings of anticipation and trepidation are fluttering in our tummies. With so much to see and do in so many venues, Pride can be a daunting experience. We’ve pulled together a Pride survival guide with some highlights of the festivities from Friday evening through to Sunday night, as well as some tips and tricks from veteran Pridegoers to help keep your feet on the ground even when your legs are in the air. (From dancing. Not from—never mind.)

Stages

Pride has six stages this year, including a trans-centred north stage on Church Street near Dundonald Street, a dance/drag/burlesque stage right at Church Street and Wellesley street East, the Dirty Disco/Blockorama stage in the parking lot across from Wellesley Station, the women-focused south stage at Church and Wood streets, and the Alexander Parkette stage, which hosts the feisty Alterna-Queer program. Detailed listings and times are available in the official Pride Guide. All stage performances are free to attend.

Lesbian icon Corey Hart is the festival headliner, playing the Bud Light South Stage (yes, some of the stages are sponsored this year) at 8:30 p.m. on Saturday. Other south stage highlights include The Cliks and Bif Naked on Friday evening, Kelly and the Kellygirls and Shi Wisdom on Saturday, and, on Sunday, Lady Miss Kier, Tom Stephan a.k.a. Superchumbo, and a few surprise guests.

The OLG Central Stage is one long dance party with highlights including DJs Blackcat, Sumation, Craig Dominic, Justin Ryan, and Dwayne Minard on Saturday, and on Sunday, an all-Canadian showcase.

The Viagra Village Stage (sigh) at Church Street and Wellesley Street East will be graced by some of the city’s finest drag and burlesque performers, including Chris Edwards, the Dukes of Drag, Nerd Girls Burlesque, and Naked Boys Singing on Saturday, and on Sunday, Jade Elektra, the Toronto Drag Kings, and Stephanie Stephens. In short, don’t mistake this stage for the Family Pride area.

The Alterna-Queer stage in Alexander Parkette starts your Sunday off with a soon-to-be-legendary women’s arm-wrestling match for charity, then showcases the best of Toronto’s alternative scene (plus a few suitably boisterous out-of-town acts) including Mittenz, Vag Halen, CJ Sleez, Random Order, Kids on TV, and a lively Alterna-Queer Cabaret among many other sonic treats. The complete Alterna-Queer lineup can be found on its facebook page.

The north stage features a wide array of trans, genderqueer, and label-transcending talent including Rae Spoon, DJ Memphis Sugar, and DJ nik red on Saturday, and on Sunday, Carrie Chesnutt and Boyd Kodak, Lucas Silvera, and ILL NANA/DiverseCity Dance Company.

Last but by no means least, the TD Wellesley Stage is home to the Dirty Disco party and the much-celebrated Blockorama, with Tom Stephan a.k.a Superchumbo featured on Saturday evening, and a star-studded Sunday including Faith Nolan, DJs Syrus Ware, nik red, and Sebastian, 88 Days of Fortune, House of Monroe, Keshia Chanté, DJ Blackcat, and jojo flores.

Photo by {a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/23947810@N04/7284579132/"}umegrahpics{/a}, from the {a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/torontoist/"}Torontoist Flickr Pool{/a}.

Parades and Marches

There are three official Pride marches/parades: the Trans March on Friday evening at Norman Jewison Parkette (rally at 6 p.m., march at 7:30 p.m.); the Dyke March on Saturday afternoon (rally at 1 p.m. at Church and Hayden streets, march at 2 p.m. at Church and Bloor streets, post-march picnic at 3 p.m. in Allan Gardens); and of course the Pride Parade, starting at Church and Bloor streets at 2 p.m. on Sunday. Routes are available on Pride’s website.

While neither a parade nor a march, the Pride and Remembrance Run (Saturday at 10 a.m., starting at Church and Wellesley streets) continues to be a cornerstone of Pride, raising thousands of dollars each year for LGBTQ charities. The route is available here.

Special Spaces and Events

For those seeking an alternative to bars and beer gardens, the Clean, Sober, and Proud Place in the Paul Kane Parkette (north side of Wellesley Street East, just west of Church Street) is a substance-free space that provides two days of all-ages community programming and services from yoga and acupuncture to trivia, poetry, and cabaret. Among the many things to check out here: the Queer Dance Community performance and the Queer Asian Youth Cabaret on Saturday, and the Hawaiian fertility dance (!) and Etobicoke School of the Arts glee club choir on Sunday.

The Proud Voices reading series has found a new home this year at Glad Day Bookshop. Among the many writers reading are Nina Arsenault, Chase Joynt, and Alec Butler on Friday evening; Nalo Hopkinson, Farzana Doctor, and Marcus McCann on Saturday; and S. Bear Bergman, Sky Gilbert, and Shawn Syms on Sunday.

Next to the north stage across from the 519 Community Centre, the Trans Space is a safe, inclusive, informative, non-judgmental environment providing information, workshops, and support to members of the trans community, those who are questioning, and those who are merely curious.

Buddies in Bad Times Theatre’s annual Queer Pride festival is already well underway. This weekend’s notable events include the ever-popular Bitch Salad Gives Back on Friday evening, Homo Night in Canada on Saturday evening, and the family-friendly Lady Oiye’s Tea Dance from mid-afternoon through the evening on Sunday, as well as three nights of Buddies After Hours with Donnarama and friends.

The 519 Community Centre runs its own stream of events each year at the Green Space on Church—including Thursday’s eigth annual Starry Night party, a ‘One World’ party on Friday night featuring featuring DJ legend Frankie Knuckles, an all-day Saturday event called Backyard Beats, and Sunday’s annual Treehouse Party. Full schedule here.

Much of Pride remains a PG-13/R-rated affair (and we like it that way). For those who just aren’t ready to answer questions like “What’s that, daddy?”, Family Pride is a solidly kid-friendly zone located at Church Street Public School at Church and Wood streets, with activities and entertainment geared toward children and families throughout both Saturday and Sunday.

{a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/12456124@N03/5900938386/"}Photo by Mr. Curiosity{/a}, from the {a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/torontoist/"}Torontoist Flickr Pool{/a}.

Off the Beaten Path

The Church/Wellesley area isn’t the only place to have fun. Festive events for queers of all stripes can be found all over the city—and even outside of it—this weekend. Here are a few suggestions:

Join 800 hot women under one roof at Crush, Toronto’s annual women’s Pride dance, at the Opera House, 735 Queen Street East. Friday, 8 p.m. $20 advance, $25 at the door.

Celebrate a different kind of holiday at HotNuts Christmas at the Garrison, 1197 Dundas Street West, Saturday night from 10 p.m. $10 advance, $12 at the door.

Targeted squarely at the butch-aspirational, Pitbull is one of Toronto’s biggest Pride parties, hosting 1,500 sweaty men at the Phoenix, 410 Sherbourne Street, Saturday night at 10 p.m. $30 advance.

The spirit of Will Munro lives on at Vazaleen: Shame 2012 at Wrongbar, 1279 Queen Street West, Sunday night from 9 p.m. $15 advance. Tickets at Soundscapes.

Switch – Trans Pride Edition (link NSFW) is the queer porn play party for kinksters of all genders and persuasions at the Oasis Aqualounge, 231 Mutual Street, Sunday night from 8 p.m. $25 advance, $30 at the door.

You can escape to the beach (and escape your clothes) at clothing-optional Hanlan’s Point, always one of the most popular Pride alternatives. Ferries leave the docks at 9 Queen’s Quay West starting at 8 a.m. Saturday and Sunday. $7 adults, includes return fare.

Or, if you want to avoid Pride entirely (and we’ve all had years like that, haven’t we?), do what our mayor does and head to the cottage! Pop open a beer, relax by the lake, and try to forget about those reporters and audits and taxes and subways—they will all still be there when you get back to the office.

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Staying Safe

Public and personal safety is paramount at any large event, and Pride is no exception. Do those things you’re always told to do: Wear a hat and plenty of sunscreen. Take breaks from the sun. Drink plenty of (non-alcoholic) liquids. Watch the parade from the shade of College Park, or skip the parade and check out the community fair.

If you need medical assistance, representatives from St. John’s hospital and paramedics are located throughout the site for anything from a paper cut to heat stroke. First Aid stations are located at Church and Alexander streets and at Church and Dundonald streets if you need them.

In the event of an emergency, notify the nearest Public Safety Ambassador or a uniformed security guard, who have direct access to Pride’s dispatch centre. Otherwise, call 911 and help will be dispatched immediately.

And, as always, use common sense when faced with uncomfortable or dangerous situations. Be aware of your surroundings. Travel with friends, or through well-lit populated areas. Arrive sober and leave sober—or make your way home via transit or cab.

Pride Tips from the Pros

On Looking Good

“Confidence is all you need to look good for Pride. Wear what you like and dress for the weather. With so many people, you’ll get someone’s attention as you walk and dance around.”
— Duane Brown, digital strategist

On Eating and Drinking

“Prepare in advance with lots of snacks that are nourishing and easy: sandwiches, fruit, juices, cold water. Keep them in a knapsack. Very little food at Pride is reasonably priced.”
— Shawn Syms, writer, Proud Voices series

“I drink water all the time and all weekend long. I always have some water with me, especially when I am marching. Staying hydrated with water is the most important thing I do for myself all weekend.”
— Dianne Moore, Pride volunteer, Clean, Sober and Proud Place

On Lineups

“Lineups are nasty indeed, but it’s a worldwide rule of thumb that the more silent and obedient you are with a doorman, the more he’ll like you and the faster he’ll try and get you in. Don’t be pushy, don’t be cute.”
— Scott Dagostino, manager, Glad Day Bookshop

On Hooking Up

“If you want to get laid, VOLUNTEER. Dozens of organizations—each and every one chock-a-block with sexy queer folks—need help during Pride Week. I guarantee you’ll meet quality people. I’m volunteering to catch fainters at the Pride and Remembrance Run.”
— Marcus McCann, writer, Proud Voices series

On Staying Sane

“Whatever you do, bring a great attitude; it’s infectious. Sometimes just giving and receiving positive attention can be the most powerful experience of the weekend—it doesn’t cost anything, doesn’t take very much effort at all, and you never know what it might lead to.”
— Shawn Syms, writer, Proud Voices series

Photo by Codi Wilson.

By the time I went to my first Pride I was already cynical and wary. It was the late ’90s and I was in my early 20s. My lesbros had taught me well: I knew that the roots of Pride were political but that the great gay sell-out was in full swing. And as I walked down Church Street, the evidence was all around me. Everywhere I looked there were ads for big business, beer, and banks. Instead of celebration and unity, it felt like all the messages were saying the same thing: you aren’t rich enough, you aren’t fit enough, you aren’t drunk enough, you aren’t cool enough, you don’t have a place here. We had traded liberation for assimilation. We had traded playful sexuality for respectable marriage. We had traded complicated presence for conformed absence.

I watched about an hour of the parade then left. Standing in the crowd, I couldn’t help feeling like I was watching the homosexuals on display for the straights. They had come to watch the strange, exotic creatures parade down Yonge Street, like an olden day circus sideshow, with the freaks allowed out of their cages for one day only.

Still, there were some things I really loved that weekend. I lazed in the grass of the 519 with friends, heard new bands in the park outside Buddies, and danced in the street for hours.

It wasn’t until I was a high school teacher that my feelings about Pride changed.

Twelve years ago, the first year I was a teacher, my students and I created a new group at the school that they named SASS: Students Against Stereotyping Sexuality. Right away they were helping organize the Pride Prom and the Toronto District School Board presence in the Pride Parade. When my students were asked to be in charge of decorating the school bus, they became a fabulous force to be reckoned with. Handmade signs, lots of pink fabric and sparkly things were bursting from the sides. To top it all off, they made a giant high-heeled shoe covered in disco ball pieces—an homage to Priscilla Queen of the Desert, a movie they’d all seen for the first time together in SASS that year.

As that yellow school bus slowly crawled down Yonge Street, a few things happened. Maybe it was the glitter, or the blazing sun, but it seemed to me that my students were radiant. I like to think it’s because they finally felt seen. For teens, there can be this overwhelming feeling of invisibility, like people don’t see them, or at least not the whole them. At Pride, with all those people watching, I think it was the first time some of my students actually felt seen as their whole, complicated selves.

The other thing that happened was the sound. You could hear the noise of the crowd change every time we advanced a little further. It was a strange mix of wild cheers and an almost mournful quietness. We didn’t have a sound system or go-go dancers or things to give away. We had a small group of staff, trustees, teachers, and teens with hand-painted signs walking with pride in front of a fabulous school bus. It was because we were quiet enough that we were able to really hear the people surrounding us, people who tended to be separated from the marchers by a wall of techno sound and steel barricades.

I noticed the strange sound right away, but it probably wasn’t until about Wellesley that I noticed something else: tears. Then I saw them on people everywhere. All ages, all genders, all kinds. Many of the people crying were also smiling and it seemed to me like their eyes also blazed with a kind of radiance.

I don’t know why each of those people cried. But there were questions I couldn’t get out of my head: What kind of violence had they faced in school? What kind of absence did they endure? What kind of healing is now possible?

At the end of the parade, my students vowed to make an even more fabulous float the following year. It was a great way to end the school year and celebrate all our successes.

The next year, no one told us where to meet or how to be involved in the parade. Our SASS group had tripled in size and the new members had heard over and over again the legend of the Pride Parade; they were all excited to get started on decorations. One of my 15-year-old students, frustrated with the lack of communication, sent an email to TDSB. She received a response that basically said, “The Board had to choose how to allocate limited resources this year and unfortunately we do not have the capacity for Pride.” It was a year of staff cuts and frozen budgets. (It was a lot like next year might be.) My students were livid, but there were only a few weeks left, so rather than mount a protest they decided we’d just organize the damn thing ourselves.

We got money from our school for the bus. Pride Toronto waived all their fees. The money for decorations came from individual teachers and staff. Within a few weeks, the students created something even more epic than they had the previous year. And they told their friends from other schools to come.

It was this year that permanently changed my feelings about Pride from jaded to joyful. I can even remember the exact moment. It was when we turned from Bloor Street onto Yonge Street, to where you can look south and see almost a million people. One of my Egyptian students, who had lied to her parents about where she was, turned to me and said: “All of these people? All of these people are okay with this? It’s so many people.” She was crying.

That’s when I decided that an imperfect presence is better than a perfect absence. Pride wasn’t what I wanted it to be. It wasn’t good enough. It had lost much of its soul. Maybe it was full of consumerism, conformity, and corporations, but it was also full of possibility and wonder. It was still something—something you could name, talk about, and experience.

In a community where so much has been lost, so much has gone unspoken, and so much has been erased, maybe it’s still vital for us to come together for one day, to glitter in the sun or sing in the rain, and to be seen by millions of people.

Maybe it doesn’t need to be perfect. Maybe just being present is enough.

The Cheeto Girls guest on tonight's Bitch Salad Gives Back 2012 comedy show. Photo by Sylvia Pereira.

PRIDE: We’ll have a special Pride event planner later today, but here are a few Pride-affiliated events taking place tonight that are away from the main drag:

• The ladies of the Toronto Roller Derby are hosting an “all queer roller derby bout” called the Clam Slam. It’ll be an exhibition event, highlighting out and proud athletes on skates from across North America. The Bunker (40 Carl Hall Road, Studio 3), doors at 6:30 p.m., game at 7:10 p.m., $12 in advance ($18 at the door), kids aged 9 and under FREE.
• Bitch Salad Gives Back 2012, the annual Pride edition of the (mostly) female comedy show produced by host Andrew Johnston, tonight features sets from Gavin Crawford, Christina Walkinshaw, Julia Hladkowicz, Emma Hunter, and crowd favourites The Cheeto Girls. Buddies in Bad Times Theatre (12 Alexander Street), Doors at 7 p.m., show at 8 p.m., $20.
• An alleged last-minute contract dispute with former headliner Venus X’s new management means the Mansion warehouse party actually gets what we consider to be an upgrade; Montreal/Los Angeles music makers LOL Boys, who collaborated with Cadence Weapon on his recent Polaris Prize nominated album Hope in Dirt City, have joined the bill as the top act. Also pumping out beats will be rising NYC beatmaker RL Grime, and supporting sets from Alex Brooks and B2B Basha. Amsterdam Brewery (21 Bathurst Street), 10 p.m., $10 in advance (more at the door).

ART: Power Plant, Harbourfront Centre’s resident contemporary art gallery, opens a new exhibition, “Tools for Conviviality,” with a launch party tonight. The party will take place on the site’s Lakeview Terrace, and feature BBQ, plus DJ Jodie James Elliott. The Power Plant (321 Queens Quay West), 8 p.m., FREE.

MUSIC: One Hundred Dollars’ frontwoman Simone Schmidt launches her new side project, FIVER, with a seven-inch single and live show tonight, with openers USGirls and Nordic Nomadic. The Silver Dollar (486 Spadina Avenue), 9 p.m., $8.

Urban Planner is Torontoist‘s guide to what’s on in Toronto, published every weekday morning, and in a weekend edition Friday afternoons. If you have an event you’d like considered, email all of its details—as well as images, if you’ve got any—to events@torontoist.com.

Photo courtesy of Jaime Woo.

I love Pride.

I know many people who don’t. And sure, Pride isn’t perfect. But I enjoy the festivities using the same coping mechanisms I’ve developed for weddings and conferences. Attend the parts you enjoy, hang out with your friends, find out where the booze is—especially if it’s free—and spend the remainder of your time on Twitter.

Let me share a few items on my itinerary. I plan on visiting a bathhouse by Sunday, given that the police raids on several bathhouses just over 30 years ago instigated the protests and rallies that led to the Pride movement. Spa Excess has programmed a bout of erotic wrestling on Thursday, which I don’t actually find erotic but am curious to see live. Otherwise, I’m interested in seeing how the spa goes about giving away meatball sandwiches at midnight on Saturday. I’m assuming that nothing erotic happens with the sandwiches, but I could be wrong. (The idea of gourmet meatball sandwiches actually would pull me into the bathhouse more often, but that might just be me.)

Grindr, the popular cruising app, is helping promote a party on Friday at Fly, which I think will be a fun sociological excursion. I love the fact that technology now allows us to cruise men anywhere there’s a cellular signal. Where once men hid in the bushes under cover of night, now they neatly line up in a grid for anyone with access to a smartphone.

Sex has always helped drive innovation in technology: the availability of pornography on VHS won the cassette wars of the 1980s. I’ve often joked that a gay man likely invented the wheel so that he could get to his hookup quicker.

My post-drinking food is pulled pork from Poutini’s, which is across town in Queen West. That is gonna be one hell of an inebriated stumble.

I’ve left much of the weekend open, since I assume there will be a host of barbeques and condo parties to attend. Well, at least I hope so. (I haven’t checked my Facebook events that far ahead yet.) These get-togethers are an opportunity to catch up with friends, as well as to avoid the massively overpriced drinks in the Village. One of those franchised pubs once wanted to charge me $3 for a club soda. That was when I decided to start bringing a flask of that, too.

The Parade on Sunday will be fun to watch for a little bit. I hope to take photos of all the Asian families taking photos. This will be the day I walk up and down Church Street, just like everyone else. In fact, I’ll do about three laps and then call it a day. I don’t understand why people avoid the area: as a proud Torontonian, I have to show tourists what the city has to offer, right? It just isn’t Pride without some American nineteen-year-old, happy to be legally drunk off his gourd, sloppily trying to hit on me. This year, I’m sure I’ll get Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” annoyingly stuck in my head. I will bump into people I sorta know again and again and again and it will slowly go from awkward to hilarious.

By the end of the Pride festivities, I’ll be sunburnt, dehydrated, and sleep-deprived. I’ll have given many, many hugs to friends, lovers, and strangers. Ever the tech nerd, I’ll be asking everyone obsessively what they think of services like Grindr, Scruff, and Squirt, and talking about how those services have totally, absolutely, changed things. (Or not.) And before bed that last night, I’ll reflect on the adventures of the past few days and think about how lucky I am to be in a progressive city like Toronto, where I can live openly throughout the year.