Shibden Hall

On a beautifully sunny day, twenty of us travelled to the West Yorkshire town of Halifax.

We walked to The Piece Hall where a bronze statue of the 19th-century diarist Anne Lister, known as Gentleman Jack, was installed in September 2021. Lister is sometimes described as the first modern lesbian, and lived near by in Shibden Hall for many years.

Anne Lister is Shibden Hall’s most well known owner, She was a noted diarist whose 27 volumes (4 to 5 million words), written between 1806 and 1840, give a unique insight into her daily life as a landowner, business woman and traveller. Anne devised a code to keep some of her thoughts concealed. Once cracked, the diaries revealed her most intimate private life including her love affairs with women.

Anne Lister was born 3 April 1791 in Halifax and grew up at Skelfler, a small family estate in the East Riding of Yorkshire. Anne attended school in Ripon and then the exclusive Manor School in York. Her hobbies included walking, riding and shooting, and she made many visits to Shibden, home of her uncle James and his sister, Anne. After the death of her brother in 1813, she became heiress to the Shibden estate and moved in with her aunt and uncle, taking over the management of the estate.

In 1832, Anne developed a relationship with the wealthy heiress Ann walker (1803 – 1854) and they later set up home together at Shibden, which Anne became sole owner of in 1836.

Anne was a keen traveller and set off with Ann Walker in June 1839 to travel through Russia and overland to Persia. She was bitten by a fever-carrying tick and died on 22 September 1840. Her remains were brought back to Halifax, arriving in late April 1841.

Once again, we had a very interesting trip out. More photos can be seen here.

Bette Bourne Obituary – by Neil Bartlett / The Guardian

Bette Bourne, actor and activist, born 22 September 1939; died 23 August 2024.

In 1980, the New York magazine the Village Voice captioned a centre-spread photo shoot of Bette Bourne and his radical drag troupe the Bloolips with the phrase “living proof not only that rhinestones and politics can live together, but that they must”.  

Bette, who has died aged 84, doubtless received the accolade with the same arched-eyebrow disdain that greeted all attempts to summarise his work or life – but it’s not half bad as an introduction to the world of a man who revelled in turning contradiction into an art form.

The Bloolips’ riotous early performances mixed tap dancing, repurposed musical comedy show tunes, elaborate white-face makeup and polemic gay lib narratives. The defining feature of the radical drag for which the company became well known was that it had nothing to do with traditional female impersonation. Instead, the all-gay, all-male company arrayed itself in gender-defying combinations of visibly second hand gowns with junk-shop accessories. The effect was to turn the whole world queer; as Bette himself once put it: “It wasn’t so much a question of me doing Hedy Lamarr, as of me doing John Gielgud doing Hedy Lamarr.”

After 13 shows in London, numerous tours of Europe and six seasons off-Broadway – and never a penny of public subsidy – Bette retired the Bloolips as a company in 1998. By then, his work at the 180-seat Drill Hall in London – notably his appearances in my own A Vision of Love Revealed in Sleep (1989-90) and Sarrasine (1989), both created with the composer Nicolas Bloomfield – had begun to draw the attention of the theatrical mainstream. Some of its more adventurous directors duly began looking for roles in which his unique combination of Old Vic technique with simmering sexual threat could be suitably employed.

Highlights of Bette’s later career included a notably savage Jaques in As You Like It for Maria Aitken at the Open Air theatre, Regent’s Park, in 1992, a magisterial Lady Bracknell in The Importance of Being Earnest for English Touring Theatre in 1995, and a flinty yet giggly Pauncefort Quentin in Noël Coward’s The Vortex for Michael Grandage at the Donmar in 2002. He also made time to work for younger queer producers such as Duckie in London and Marlborough Productions in Brighton, and often went out of his way to encourage the many young queer artists who approached him for advice or inspiration.

In 1990, Bette and his long time partner and fellow Bloolip, Paul “Precious Pearl” Shaw, had collaborated with the New York lesbian performance troupe Split Britches on a notable reworking of A Streetcar Named Desire (retitled Belle Reprieve), still at the Drill Hall; however, he also worked on a grander scale at the National Theatre (2005), for the Royal Shakespeare Company (2007) and at the Globe (2004, 2013).

From 1999 to 2001 Bette toured the world in Resident Alien, Tim Fountain’s homage to Bette’s own good friend Quentin Crisp; in 2003 he contributed an unforgettable Gower to my Olivier-nominated staging of Shakespeare’s Pericles at the Lyric Hammersmith. In 2009 he collaborated with Mark Ravenhill to create A Life in Three Acts, a performed (and later filmed) memoir that documented the extraordinary range of his theatrical (and life) achievements.

Born in Bangor, during the wartime evacuation of his East End family from London to north Wales, Bette was christened Peter (the name by which he was known for the first 20 years of his career) then brought back to the family home in Stoke Newington at the age of six weeks. His father, a driving instructor, was distant and violent, creating in Peter a lifelong mistrust and even hatred of conventional masculinity. His mother, Jeretta (“Jet”), however, was a glamorous and fun-loving medical secretary with a passion for amateur dramatics, and it was she who nurtured her son’s early talent for singing and showing off.

Peter was educated first at Church Street School then at Upton House in Hackney. Seeking employment as soon as he could, in 1954, aged 15, Peter got temporary work in rep at the Intimate theatre in Palmers Green, where his duties included playing a corpse. Only his feet were visible, sticking out from behind an upstage sofa, but Peter insisted on applying full makeup for every performance. Aged 16, he began working first as a trainee printer and then as an assistant electrician at the Garrick theatre in the West End.

In 1958, with Jet’s encouragement, Peter secured a funded place to attend the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama. He graduated three years later, and his striking good looks and assured vocal technique – plus his willingness to play by the rules in the homophobic world of the 60s British entertainment industry – soon secured him regular work. He featured in seasons at the Bristol Old Vic (1961-62), the London Old Vic (1962) and the Nottingham Playhouse (1963); in 1969, he toured in the Prospect Theatre Company’s famous pairing of Christopher Marlowe’s Edward II with Shakespeare’s Richard II, playing opposite the young Ian McKellen.

He appeared regularly on TV, featuring in Dixon of Dock Green (1963-65), The Saint (1967) and The Avengers (1966-68). He was also – briefly – a boyfriend of Brian Epstein, manager of the Beatles. Throughout all of this, however, although he had come out to his mother in 1961, he stayed firmly in the professional closet.

By the time Peter was working for Prospect, the first wave of gay liberation was already hitting London. Frustrated with being obliged to endlessly edit his personality out of his performances, he became an eager attender of the early London Gay Liberation Front meetings; he later claimed that this was only because of the abundance of good-looking men at the meetings. By 1974, all attempts at a conformist career had been gleefully abandoned; Peter had become a full-on activist, living in a drag commune in Notting Hill and working in drag in the nearby Powis Square children’s playground – and preaching the fieriest possible version of gay lib to anyone who questioned the wisdom of doing so.

It was at this point that Peter was rechristened with the drag name Bette by his fellow queens; he never referred to himself as Peter again. As well as his firebrand daily presence on the street and at meetings, his activism also included taking a leading role in demonstrations such as the “zap” which so successfully disrupted the Christian morality campaigner Mary Whitehouse’s Festival of Light at the Methodist Central Hall in London in 1971.

It was a visit to the Oval House in Kennington by the New York gay performance troupe the Hot Peaches in 1976 that originally lit the fuse on the explosive connections between Bette’s queer politics and his work. He briefly joined the company on tour; then, when the Peaches left town, assembled his first crew of Bloolips, rehearsing in the commune’s front room and quickly building the company’s reputation. Although the following decades saw many changes in his career, the wit, anger and sheer magnetism of those early performances remained his trademarks.

Bette’s relationship with Paul began in 1977; in 2013, they became civil partners. In 2015, Bette was diagnosed with dementia. The disease gradually robbed him of the ability to learn and deliver lines, but he continued to make personal appearances and to teach the occasional master class. All through his illness Bette was indefatigably cared for by Paul, and their deeply committed relationship was an inspiration to those who knew them.

Bette is survived by Paul, his younger brother, the actor and singer Mike Berry, and his sisters, Val and Pam.

Creating Inclusive Artspaces for Older LGBTQ+ People

Join the Pride UK team on Wednesday, 25 September from 12.00 noon to 1.30pm to learn more about the lived experiences of older LGBTQ+ people and explore how to create inclusive art spaces.

The free online session – delivered by lesbian and gay HR professionals with 30 years’ experience of LGBT+ equalities training and consultancy – will address:

• Relevant research into the lives of older LGBTQ+ people
• Living as LGBTQ+ in the hostile climate of the 1950’s – 1980’s
• The medical establishment treatment of homosexual illness
• Later life as LGBTQ+ and anxieties of approaching home care alone
• The Pride movement and section 28 fightback for LGBTQ+ human rights
• How induction, training and accreditation strengthen LGBTQ+ inclusion in the arts.

Join us to share ideas, refine your working practices, and meet other progressive people who are striving to innovate and excel in services for older people.

Get tickets here.

Lord Mayor’s Parlour, Bolton

We had lunch in The Spinning Mule in Nelson Square, Bolton. Bolton is a mill town where Samuel Crompton invented the spinning mule in 1779, so called because it is a hybrid of Arkwright’s water frame and James Hargreaves’s spinning jenny – machines used to spin cotton.

It was only a short walk to the Town Hall in Victoria Square, which was built between 1866 and 1873. The cost was expected to be between £70,000 and £80,000 but more than doubled to £167,000, equivalent to £18.7 million in 2023.

Our guide, Richard, took us to the Lord Mayor’s Parlour where we were greeted by the Mayor and Mayoress of Bolton, Andy Morgan and his partner Karen as well as town hall officials. The Mayor was wearing a gold chain with 72 links and a pendant badge that represents the history of the Mayors of Bolton.

We had tea, coffee and biscuits sitting on chairs valued at £3,000 each round a table valued at £500,000.

We were shown a replica of a key in solid silver. The original was taken to London by Prince Albert (Queen Victoria’s husband) and never returned. Recently King Charles III and Camilla visited and the Mayor asked that the key be returned. The King promised to have a look.

We visited other parts of the Town Hall including the Council Chamber, The Albert Hall, Festival Hall, Hall of Memories and a corridor dedicated to the women of Bolton including the first Muslim woman Mayor.

It was a fascinating trip and more photos can be seen here.

Britain’s first gay anthem? Why the UK’s pioneering LGBT+ protest band reunited

“There is a little bit of gay in everyone today,” sing Michael Klein and Gillian Bartlam, the lead singers of Everyone Involved, a collective of musicians formed by Klein and the UK Gay Liberation Front (GLF) activist Alan Wakeman. “Gay is natural, gay is good, gay is wonderful,” the song continues. “Gay people should all come together, and fight for our rights!”

The aptly titled A Gay Song is thought to be the first LGBT+ protest song to have been recorded on vinyl. It was written by Klein and Wakeman, then recorded in London in 1972, with backing vocals from GLF members – only five years after the partial decriminalisation of male homosexuality in England and Wales.

Now, the anthem has been re-recorded by the original members of Everyone Involved, as part of an exhibition of the same name by London-based artist Ian Giles. He first discovered A Gay Song while working on another project, On Railton Road, a play about a group of gay squatters in Brixton. “As part of the research, I came across this song,” he remembers. “And it really encapsulates the activism of that era.” Re-recording it was also a nod to the not widely known LGBT+ history of Southampton. In 1976, the annual conference of the Campaign for Homosexual Equality was held at its town hall, after other councils refused to host it.

Listen to the 1972 recording of A Gay Song by Everyone Involved

A special train, nicknamed the Away Gay, was chartered from London to allow 600 delegates to attend for just £5 return. Overall, attenders received a warm welcome in Southampton, although some faith groups picketed the event. One person wearing a Gay Liberation badge was refused service at a local pub, resulting in delegates showing up en masse to protest. The landlord eventually backed down.

Getting the members of Everyone Involved back in a room together was surprisingly easy, Giles says, because the band had already considered marking the 50th anniversary of the song, before Covid scuppered those plans. Giles says the band – who have continued to make music individually – were delighted to perform together again. “Nigel Stewart, the pianist, recently wrote an opera with his partner,” Giles explains. “And Richard Lanchester, who plays percussion – his whole life is basically gigging and working at festivals. He has a solar-powered festival stage.”

It is difficult not to be moved by the footage of the colourfully dressed members of Everyone Involved reuniting, now that their once fringe message of gay acceptance is mainstream. They seem like a group of friends who swap in-jokes and quickly slide back into their old dynamic, even though it’s been years since they last saw each other. “It was magical,” Giles says, recalling the atmosphere.

After a slightly nervy rehearsal day, when some of the group had “a wobble”, the band brought their A-game to RAK Studios – previously used by musicians ranging from Michael Jackson to Adele. “It’s one of those buildings where you can just feel the history,” Giles says. “Being there does something to you.”

Making this film, Giles discovered that the members of Everyone Involved are the same “radical hippies” that they were in the 70s. Sometimes, activists become more straight-edged as they get older, “but actually, in a great way, they’ve all had these wonderful, creative lives.”

In the film, the band – mostly now in their 70s – reminisce as they perform. They giggle and gossip about how, on the original recording day in 1972, members of the GLF bickered with each other. “They never followed the rules,” they say of the campaign group, which disbanded the following year amid factional infighting but left behind a radical legacy.

Documenting the queer histories of this era can be a race against time. “The gay liberation generation of activists are dying out,” Giles says. “For me, there is a power in thinking about the depth of lives they have lived, so this is a moment to celebrate them and to capture their histories.”

Giles could just as easily be described as a historian as an artist. “I used to struggle with how that all sits together,” he says. “But equally, when I’m fatigued and wondering why I’m doing all this, the activism side does make it feel worthwhile. I hope I can use the small platforms I have to keep the fire burning around LGBT+ rights, because we never know when the wolf will be at our door.”

Danny Beard

Danny Beard is the stage name of Daniel Curtis (born 27 May 1992), a British drag performer and singer, who appeared on Britain’s Got Talent and Karaoke Club: Drag Edition and won the fourth series of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK.

In 2022, Danny Beard was announced as part of the cast of Series 4 of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK, becoming the sixth bearded queen in the Drag Race franchise and the first to appear on one judged by RuPaul.

During their run, they won four main challenges, and made it to the finale without ever being up for elimination. Danny Beard was announced as the winner of the season, becoming the first bearded winner of any Drag Race franchise.

This Danny Beard artwork is in Manchester’s Gay Village.

Meet the Queens

SShh! Don’t tell anyone but the time has come … to meet a new set of gorgeous queens, who are all vying for Mama Ru’s seal of approval and the ultimate accolade of being crowned the UK’s Next Drag Race Superstar.

Who do you think has the charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent to slay the competition and snatch the crown?

Four of the queens come from or now live in Manchester!

This message will self destruct in 3 … 2 … 1 !

Austin Allen is 74 – he has a powerful piece of advice

Austin Allen, now 74, was raised in Middlesbrough in the Baptist Church and came out in his late 20s. He worked in academic research in chemistry before working as a singer in the early part of the 1980s, then moved on to supply teaching but was sacked the morning after Section 28 became law. He now lives in mid Wales and has given ‘coming out’ assemblies at local schools.

Austin grew up in an era where nobody talked about being gay, when students at the school where he taught would shout homophobic slurs and throw planks and bricks at him. At the time if he were presented with an opportunity to become straight he would have “grabbed at it with two hands”.

Austin stated: “I suppose the biggest challenge growing up in the 50s and 60s was just total closeted-ness. I knew I was gay when I was eight years old and I came out about 20 years later. My friends, family, neighbours, being brought up in the Baptist Church … they didn’t even talk about it. Nobody was gay.

But that actually had advantages, because back then in the 60s in senior school we believed two things: firstly that every boy went through this homosexual phase in puberty, and secondly that these ‘queers’ (the word ‘gay’ wasn’t invented then for homosexuals) were dirty old men who hung around in shop doorways with raincoats on, and we weren’t old men who hung around in shop doorways.

So I actually had quite a nice ‘puberty’ in mid teens … playing with other boys ‘willy-nilly’ if you can forgive the pun! It didn’t really bother me at all while I was at school.

But it was when I left school and then thought: ‘I’ve gone through puberty, I therefore must be straight, and God is taking rather a long time’ – that’s when the problems started and I forced myself to have girlfriends and then eventually to have sexual relationships with women. It was only in my late 20s that I realised I had been trying to fool myself all these years and came out of the old closet.

I was 27 years old before somebody sat down at a table and we chatted and he said to me ‘I’m gay.’ And I had never met anybody else in my life that knowingly admitted to being gay. It was completely taboo.

I remember Malcolm Muggeridge, the old interviewer, on the telly introducing somebody once. He said something like: ‘Author, entrepreneur, traveller, self-confessed homosexual …’ That was the era. If you were homosexual and you were out of the closet you were ‘self-confessed,’ it was a crime.

I was 17 before the law changed in 1967 to allow men to have sex with each other, but I wasn’t aware of that. I had no idea I could have gone to prison for two years. It’s kind of interesting. People are an awful lot more aware of all sorts of political issues, not just gay issues. We’re more aware nowadays.

One of the reasons I was sacked in ‘88 for being gay was because I’d been relatively comfortably ‘out’ as a gay teacher with the kids previously to that. Part of that was because I’d been asked to go into classrooms for form tutors and take their sex education lessons, because they were forbidden to do that under the 1986 Education Act.

The insidious thing about Section 28 was that it was so woolly-worded … it was ‘intentionally promote,’ and it’s almost impossible to define those words, but what it did do was create this climate. I’m sure the individual head teacher that sacked me was just as homophobic the day before … he probably thought ‘I’ve now got an excuse, I’ve now got a reason, I’m now being backed by the government.’

There was never a prosecution under Section 28; nobody was ever taken to court because it was just impossible. But it created this climate. Some local government libraries were removing Oscar Wilde from the shelves because they said that it was ‘promoting homosexuality.’ I wasn’t the only teacher that was sacked. I was the one that rolled up my sleeves and said ‘you want a fight, you’ve got one!’

When I went to Wales I stopped all formal gay rights involvement, but I still did the full ‘coming out’ assemblies in senior schools in Powys. Just a few years ago I was walking home this lad, then in the upper sixth, crossed the road and he came up to me.

He said: ‘I would just like to thank you for your assembly when I was in year 7. Because I’ve just come out as gay – I haven’t told my family yet. It was such a big help.’

It makes me quite emotional now, and it’s very nice. I don’t dwell on it too much but it does make me have a little tear in my eye now and again. I know that along the way I have helped people.

There was no social media in the late 70s when I came out of the old closet. It was going down to the local gay bar in Bradford. I went down three times and walked up and down outside the pub and then went home terrified! Thinking it was going to be full of these ‘queers’ – urgh! Eventually of course I went in and found it was full of extremely nice people!

Of course it was lovely in the end. In a sense in those days you did have to go out and find, in a gay bar or gay club or whatever – real live people. That seems now to have been replaced to a large extent for some people with apps like Grindr – that’s all they want, they want sex. In one sense it’s kind of destroyed that ‘gay community,’ the places to meet.

But then I remember talking to much older people than even I who said it was an awful lot better before 1967, mainly in London when you could go to these clubs and knock on the door three times and ask for Big Bertha or whatever it was. You were in a quiet, completely closeted place. They felt they could be happy there; relaxed, for an hour or two.

The incredible sadness of some people stands out. People that I’ve known who were very very closeted ‘til the day they died. But also the light-hearted side of it as well because some of them made the best of a bad job.

My advice is to be honest and ‘accept yourself.’ Because that’s what I didn’t do, right the way through until I was 28. I didn’t accept who I was.

Now at 74 I’ve had 34½ wonderful years with my beloved Andrew and if I could have seen that at 17 I would have put up with anything.

Dora Richter (16 April 1892 – 26 April 1966)

Dora “Dörchen” Richter isn’t a household name to most people, including those in the trans community. Which is a shame, because she’s one of the most historically significant trans women out there. And we just discovered that she survived Nazi Germany.

Richter is famous for being the first trans woman to get a vaginoplasty. She previously received an orchiectomy and a penectomy at the Magnus Hirschfield Institute of Sex Research, where she worked as a cook and domestic servant in the midst of Weimar Germany, a time where trans people struggled to find work and social acceptance.

Shortly after her penectomy, Richter received the first vaginoplasty surgery conducted on a trans woman in history.

It’s been long thought that Richter died when the Nazis stormed Hirschfield’s Institute, killing those inside and burning it to the ground, destroying the many decades of research at the facility.

Recently, however, researcher Clara Hartmann discovered, while investigating historical trans figures, that Richter’s amended birth certificate had a peculiarity to it. The certificate, which was amended to reflect Richter’s true name, was corrected years after Richter was presumed to be killed.

It turns out that Richter survived the attacks after all, and had moved to Czechoslovakia, where her birth certificate could be changed to reflect her correct name and gender. After Germans were expelled from the country when it joined the Soviet bloc in 1946, Richter re-entered her home country, residing in Nuremberg for the next 20 years.

She lived to be 74, where she died 26 April 1966. According to the German news outlet RBB 24, there are some people alive today that even remember her as a kindly older lady with a handbag who would always feed the birds. This is good news to the whole trans community, as it’s important to remember those who came before us and those who lived to become queer elders. Against all odds, Dora Richter found a way to survive and live a full life even when her country tried its hardest to destroy her life, and the lives of those like her.

Manchester LGBT+ Archives

The Library and Archive Team are keen to record oral histories for people who are LGBT+ over 50 years of age.

If this sounds interesting and you want to share your story, or you just want more information, please contact us here and we can get this set up fairly soon.

Didsbury Pride

Didsbury Pride was held on Saturday, 31 August.

The Pride aims to promote visibility of the LGBTQIA+ community in Didsbury and educate and raise awareness of the spaces and services available locally.

It started with a parade – The Rainbow Walk – on a beautiful sunny day and continued in the grounds of the Emmanuel Church.

It’s a very welcoming inclusive event and we had a great time catching up with lots of friends old and new.

See photos here.

Pride Season – dates for the diary

Greater Manchester’s Pride Season continues and the following Prides are scheduled during September:

Withington – Saturday, 21 September

Chorlton Pride Fundraiser – Friday, 27 September

Withington Pride – Saturday, 21 September 2024

Withington Pride is back, celebrating Radical Joyful Unity in our LGBTQ+ and local communities. This year’s festival is bigger and better, featuring free kids’ crafts, a lively street party, and more -brought to you by Manchester’s top queer collectives and Withington’s venues.

Parade starts at 1.00pm from Withington Baths.

Chorlton Pride Fundraiser – Pop Quiz and After Party

Friday, 27 September 2024 – 8.00pm – 11.59pm

The Beagle, 456-458 Barlow Moor Road, Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Manchester M21 0BQ

Join us for a fun night of trivia and music to help us raise money to keep Chorlton Pride events taking place in our community!

Special Host: Our charismatic and fabulous host Vin Dicktiv will guide you through the night, asking all the questions and calling out your lucky bingo numbers.

Delicious Food & Drink: Home of the famous Nell’s Pizza, The Beagle will be serving food and drinks as usual throughout the night.

Live DJ: Continue the night with The Beagle’s resident DJ playing all your favourite pride bangers.

We recommend a maximum team size of 6, but that’s just a suggestion!

All proceeds will go towards supporting Chorlton Pride, ensuring that our events can keep happening in 2025 and beyond.

Chorlton Pride is a volunteer-run event and we rely on the generosity of the community to keep doing what we do. Please consider donating if you can. 

Tickets available here – cost £6.13 including fee.

That groundbreaking gay episode of M*A*S*H

In September 1974, fifty years ago, M*A*S*H featured a groundbreaking gay episode.

Spun off from Robert Altman’s 1970 film of the same name, the TV dramedy followed the lives of US military medical personnel stationed in South Korea during the Korean War. The iconic CBS show was widely loved, and its 1983 finale remains the most-watched scripted television episode in history.

The thought of revisiting these TV classics is usually a thorny one. Products of their time, it’s not uncommon to stumble on episodes, plot lines, and characters that look more than a little problematic in hindsight – especially in terms of their treatment of LGBT+ characters. So, it’s not entirely unfair to be wary of the fact that, in 1974, a M*A*S*H episode addressed the hot topic of gay men in the military.

M*A*S*H was always a show with a “radically compassionate ethos” and this quote-unquote “gay” episode was indicative of that, telling a rather progressive and open-minded story – even if the ending wasn’t quite the boundary-breaking one the writers had in mind.

The season two episode was called “George” and it opens with the MASH unit treating a badly bruised George Weston (Richard Ely). After his recovery, George comes out – indirectly, but openly – to Hawkeye (Alan Alda). There’s no big reaction, there’s no hatred or discomfort, and there are jokes, but George isn’t the butt of them.

When others at the camp learn about George, their reactions are refreshingly unphased, with one exception.

The episode – written by John W Regier and Gary Markowitz –  makes sure its heroes treat George’s sexual identity as neither a problem nor even a novelty. It’s pretty astounding considering it aired a full 36 years before the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

The lone dissenting voice and driving force of the drama is Frank Burns (Larry Linville), a stern disciplinarian who frequently took on the role of M*A*S*H’s antagonist. He’s the only character to express any kind of homophobia toward George, and he does so under the guise of “following the rules” as he tries to have the gay soldier dishonourably discharged.

Hawkeye and Trapper’s (Wayne Rogers) scheming to help their friend leads to them buttering Frank up and coaxing him to admit he once cheated on a med school test. They then use this information as blackmail so that Frank won’t submit the discharge report, and prove that he has no room to judge anyone else.

It turns out, the writers initially had a different ending in mind. The original plan was to have Hawkeye and Trapper get Frank drunk, during which point the stringent major revealed that he once experienced sexual attraction for another man.

So, right, the intended ending does veer a little too closely to the overused stereotype that homophobic bullies are, themselves, secret closet cases. But its implications were unprecedented for the time in terms of gay representation on screen.

Still, the ending that aired is a fine final note for a truly landmark episode of television. LGBT+ characters were still few and far between, and they were so frequently the target of mean-spirited jokes – or worse. But with “George,” M*A*S*H presented a gay character on his own terms, and then showed its massive, mainstream audience what it means to be a thoughtful and supportive ally.

Bella Donna

19 September – 21 September, 7.30pm – 9.30pm – Kings Arms

Bella Donna is a comedy play at The Kings Arms, 11 Bloom Street, Salford M3 6AN on 19 September to 21 September at 7.30pm.

A girl’s night in with two disgruntled actors, the self-proclaimed Queen of Sass and several bottles of wine … what could possibly go wrong?

From Award-Winning Director and Playwright Laura J Harris comes an original queer comedy filled with unexpected twists, turns and more than its fair share of sass. Drag Artiste Extraordinaire and self-proclaimed Queen of Sass, Bella Da Balle, is in high spirits when her friend and flatmate, Donna Knight, returns home from a long day of auditions. Time to break out the wine and catch up on Bella’s love life (or lack thereof!).
 

When an unexpected guest appears at the door, it triggers a series of dramatic events that drastically alter the night’s trajectory. Surprising revelations surface throughout the evening that will put the bond of friendship between Bella and Donna to the ultimate test.

Brave, bold and beautifully bonkers!

Buy tickets here – £8.50 – £10.50 + Booking fee

Leigh Town Hall

A group of us gathered at the bus stop opposite Manchester Art Gallery to take bus V1 to Leigh, a town in the Metropolitan Borough of Wigan. The route includes seven kilometres of a guided busway (along a disused railway line) that excludes other traffic.

We had lunch in a pub called The Thomas Burke named after Thomas Aspinall Burke. He was born on 2 March 1890 in Leigh and was the eldest of nine children. The family grew up in poor circumstances. He left school at age 12 to work part-time in a silk mill. At age 14, he started working in a coal mine.

Burke’s first professional opportunity happened when a local music society was presenting Handel’s Messiah. The tenor they had engaged fell ill at the last minute and Burke substituted. He later trained in Britain and Italy and became an operatic tenor singing at the Royal Opera House in 1919 and 1920. Burke appeared in several films and had a long recording career.

We made our way to the refurbished historic Leigh Town Hall where we had a guided tour of the building and the archives. Our guide, Thomas, told us that there were 2.5 million items in the 800 hundred years of archives, the oldest item dating back to 1215.

It was a fascinating visit and more photos can be seen here.

Remembering Marsha P Johnson

“Darling, I want my gay rights now. I think it’s about time that my gay brothers and sisters got their rights. Especially the women!” — Marsha P Johnson 

Marsha P Johnson (24 August 1945 – 6 July 1992) was known for her lighthearted and humorous approach to activism.

A joyous spirit, she dreamed of the day when queer people would be allowed to live and love freely. The drag queen and transgender icon played a crucial role in the Stonewall uprising, co-founded Street Transvestite Activist Revolutionaries (STAR), an organisation to support youth, and dedicated her life to fighting for gay liberation. 

The fight for equality has come a long way since the Stonewall Riots of 1969. Marriage equality is now the law of the land; gay people can adopt, serve in the military, and donate blood. With all of this progress, it’s easy to believe that the fight is over and that we’ve accomplished everything we wanted. 

Marsha P Johnson is a big part of our legacy. Her face is painted on murals, printed on pride-themed merchandise and etched into monuments in her honour. Still, I can’t help but feel like her work has been taken for granted. It sometimes feels like we learned nothing from Marsha P Johnson.

If she were alive today, would we protect her? Or would her struggles be ignored, like so many Black trans women today?

There have been 25 reported murders of transgender people in America this year alone. Nearly half of them were Black, according to the Human Rights Campaign. In 2019, the American Medical Association declared violence against transgender people an epidemic. These stories go vastly underreported and largely ignored, similar to how Marsha P Johnson was treated when she lived.

Despite decades of activism and community organising, trans women like Marsha P Johnson and Sylvia Rivera got very little in return. During the 1970 Christopher Street Liberation Day March, now known as the Pride Parade, cisgender gay men told Marsha and Sylvia that they had to march in the back of the crowd.

The men believed that trans people hurt the image of gay men. This sentiment still exists in the LGBT+ community today. This kind of mentality has allowed Black transgender women to suffer while the world celebrates our so-called progress. 

While there have been advancements for LGBT+ people, these individuals face disproportionate challenges and disparities due to the intersection of their racial and gender identities. According to HRC, Black transgender people are three times more likely to live in poverty than average Americans. They are less likely to have access to healthcare, more likely to be exposed to HIV and are at a high risk of suicide.

Black trans people deserve to be supported in the way that they have supported us all in the past. Black trans people, like Marsha, have always been the core of the Gay Liberation Movement. Now that gay people have made some progress, it’s time to give back and support the Black trans community the way that Marsha would have wanted.

If Marsha were alive today, she would want us to follow her lead and fight against oppression. She would encourage us to embrace intersectionality and work to address overlapping forms of oppression simultaneously, making sure that organisations support disabled and undocumented trans people. 

Despite experiencing homelessness and having to resort to survival sex work, Marsha believed that there was always someone who had it worse. Her activism relied on prioritising the most vulnerable in our community – she volunteered for organisations that support homeless trans people. She understood that donating clothes and money would keep trans folks safe and off the street.

Marsha wasn’t just strong; she was also bold. It wasn’t enough to be loud; she wanted to be noticed. She became known for her elaborate outfits and handmade flower crowns. Marsha knew being seen was important; it empowered others and encouraged them to join her fight. We must do the same and be loud in our support of Black trans people. We have to let the world know that we stand with them.

Because this isn’t just their fight, it’s all of ours.

Gay flamingo couple surprises caretakers by hatching a chick at zoo

In a delightful display of love and dedication, Curtis and Arthur, a gay pair of Chilean flamingos at Paignton Zoo in Devon, have successfully hatched a chick. This remarkable event marks the first successful hatching of Chilean flamingo chicks at the zoo since 2018.

Pete Smallbones, the zoo’s bird curator, shared his excitement, saying, “Regarding the same-sex parenting, we aren’t entirely sure how this has come about, although it is a known phenomenon in Chilean flamingos, as well as other bird flocks. The most likely scenario is that the egg was abandoned by another couple, so this pair have adopted it.”

Curtis and Arthur are part of an initiative called Love Lagoon -inspired by the reality TV series Love Island – which aims to better document and engage the public with social media updates of the flamingo couples.

Earlier this year, Paignton Zoo launched a special Valentine’s Day campaign encouraging the public to name their flamingos. The “Name a Flamingo” initiative was a hit, with names being suggested and voted on through the zoo’s Instagram channel. Among the other flamingo couples who have successfully hatched chicks are Florence and Flame, Frenchie and Del, and Flossie and Lando.

Paignton Zoo’s breeding programme really shows the bird team’s dedication in fighting these issues and making sure the species survive. Chilean flamingos, native to South America, face several threats in the wild, including egg-harvesting, tourism disturbance, and habitat degradation due to industrial mining operations.

“It’s a testament to the skill and hard work put in by the bird team, and we are hopeful that we may see more eggs hatch over the coming days and weeks,” Smallbones added.

Can flamingos be gay?

Call it ironic that a group of flamingos is called a flamboyance, but this isn’t the first time same-sex bird pairs have become parents. In 2022, two gay flamingo dads adopted a chick that was previously abandoned by its biological parents at Whipsnade Zoo.

A pair of (childless) gay flamingos Freddie Mercury and Lance Bass also made headlines in 2022 after breaking up following a three-year relationship. Same-sex behaviour isn’t unique to flamingos; many bird species, including penguins (like Sphen and Magic), and swans (like Billy and Elliot) also display homosexual behaviour. These observations highlight the diversity of animal behaviours and challenge the notion that heterosexuality is the only natural sexual orientation in the animal kingdom.

People, Pride and Progress

The National Railway Museum is embarking on a new project to record the stories and memories of the LGBTQIA+ community in a new oral history archive. Do you know somebody who would be interested?

This initiative is funded and made possible thanks to the National Lottery Heritage Fund and the players of the National Lottery, ASLEF LGBTQIA+ Network and the Friends of the National Railway Museum.

Aims and Objectives

The project has been instigated by, carried out and guided by members of the LGBTQIA+ community. The team are looking for older and retired members of the community, those who worked under British Rail and in early privatisation, to have a chat about the past and tell what it was really like to work in those days.

Without continuity of culture passed down via families and with a scarcity of personal records, knowledge about the culture and the community’s past is often hidden from younger members of the community. Much of the community’s history, what day to day life was like, is preserved now only in the memories of those who lived it.

The project offers the opportunity for community members to share their stories in one-on-one sessions with others who’ve experienced rail in different periods. These chats will be recorded to form a new oral history (audio only) collection that will be preserved in the National Railway Museum archive.

Do you have an LGBTQIA+ connection with the railways? Contact us to tell us more!

Email: PeoplePrideProgress@railwaymuseum.org.uk

Write: People Pride Progress, National Railway Museum, Leeman Road, York YO26 4XJ