Mardi Gras is born again

Mardi Gras is born again

“GLBTQIAPFLAG Mardi Gras?” Pretty soon that will be the short way to write about community without being scolded for not being inclusive. And frankly, it’s a bit shit.

With the growth rate of one additional letter per year since 2009, by 2025 we will have incorporated the whole alphabet into our acronym. It’s no wonder fresh meat, or ‘young people’ coming to Mardi Gras for the first time aren’t always sure what all the feathers are meant to stand for.

For me, it was an escape. As an ex-Sutherland Shire hobbit, Mardi Gras was my first taste of Gaydom. And for the most part it tasted a lot like latex — considering all the condoms we were blowing up. Mardi Gras was a metaphor for many things — how fabulous life is when you embrace eccentricities, and pride can be found in the biggest papier-mâché head to the tiniest mankini.
It also posed challenges, be it trying to cross the road on parade night or explaining to your parents why you were there at all.

With that in mind I can’t say I am envious of the panels, PR groups and volunteers that have to find a way each year to focus their messages into one unified thought. After all, Mardi Gras is no longer just about sexual preference, it reaches beyond orientation and personalities.

Our community is old, frail, in need of appropriate nursing care and hospitals.

Our community is young, nervous, and wanting open-minded counselling, and desperate for access to information about their sexuality.

We continue to be victimised and continue to be confused over whether justice is served appropriately when we are attacked.

We live in the city, in the suburbs, we run corner stores and we run companies that can literally shut down a nation. So how on earth could we possibly bundle up all our values, all our hopes and share them with such a diverse crowd?

And how, if we are challenged to represent our present community, do we also represent our past? After presenting at a Marriage Rally I was asked by an older man, “Why are you here? You didn’t go through the hell that I went through.” All I could do was be thankful. Thanks to his sacrifice, thanks to the 78ers and those who battled through – so much I don’t have to. And I hope the generation after me gets it even easier. The
Mardi Gras brand must reflect that; celebrating our hopeful future but forever being thankful for it’s politics and it’s history.

Through infinite love.

Infinite love is bold. Bigger than Bob Katter’s hat, sharper than Miranda Devine’s pen and it’s louder than Jim Wallace and Wendy Francis could ever hope to be.

When we lose a friend, when protests go unanswered — we can turn to this idea, and know it is inexhaustible.

We’ll dance to it, make out to it, shout, petition and lobby for it. For everyone who needs it, whenever that is, it will be there. A new symbol, a new idea and a new name that celebrates history, the future and the city which keeps it alive — Sydney Mardi Gras.

By BRENDAN MACLEAN

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6 responses to “Mardi Gras is born again”

  1. […] may have read Brendan Maclean‘s speech from the Mardi Gras launch, in which he expresses his views on the […]

  2. I’ve been seeing it as a glass half empty or full situation.

    And I think you hit the nail on the head about the dialogue.

    The ‘article’ was actually a speech I gave at the Mardi Gras launch so perhaps not the right time to debate it, perhaps I’ll think of writing an article on that soon.

    But Mardi Gras is and always will be a gay event. No one can change that.

  3. An inspiring article, but I can’t help but feel that it misses the point of people’s uneasiness with the name change. Of course Gay and Lesbian is not inclusive, and an alphabet soup is unwieldy – but to remove all explicit mention of sexuality undermines the purpose of the parade.

    As one commenter on the samesame website noted – why not simply make Sydney Festival go for a month longer?

    If we begin to water-down our uniqueness to be more palatable to the general public we risk further alienating those that are already on the fringes of society.

    For me, the mardi gras has always been an affirmation of my identity. A defense against anybody who may say that that there is something wrong with my sexuality. Having grown up in rural NSW, I believe there is a real need to have strong symbols that can act as a beacon to those not fortunate enough to live in the inner city.

    There are plenty of ways to do this – for example, why not Mardi Gras Pride Parade? Pride – a term inclusive but that explicitly points to our history. Or we could choose any number of variations on this theme.

    People have good reason to be uneasy when an organisation that claims to represent a community fails to consult the people that will be affected by its decisions.

    Perhaps this should not be seen as divide between those who support the name change and those who don’t, but as an opportunity to open up a dialogue about the needs and desires LGBTIQ folk – and how Mardi Gras can best serve them.

  4. The old mardi gras was for the most part very segregated, and separated itself away from a society that otherwise didn’t understand what it stood for. There is definitely more tolerance & acceptance towards the community these days, but moving forward we have to embrace change and make it open to more people. The changes for mardi gras are a massive step forward.

  5. That was a beautiful and wonderfully written article! I agree, community cannot voice everyone’s needs/struggles but it stands for all.