For many queer folks in B.C., searching gay clubs near me on Google maps will lead them to a short list, limited with actual options, only to quickly arrive at the message “You’ve reached the end of the list.”
This reality transcends big-city presumptions, although remains exacerbated in rural commuities and suburbs, based on a review of searches in cities and towns around the province. According to queer advocates in the province, this lack of night-life spaces isn’t about representation and acceptance, but one of safety and wellness.
In Vancouver, there are eight nightclubs branded as gay clubs, according to gaycities.com, a website chronicling queer spaces worldwide.
This means that for every 100,000 people in the city, there is less than one gay bar to be found.
In Victoria, there was only one: Paparazzi Nightclub, formerly known as Prism Lounge.
When it was still Prism Lounge, it was owned by long-time gay rights activist Gary Penny. Under his ownership, Prism was a gay club through and through, and remained so until 2007 when Penny sold it. His one stipulation upon selling though, was that the bar stays gay, according to an article from Xtra Magazine.
Shortly after selling, in 2008 the bar underwent renovations, and when it re-opened its shiny new doors it was suddenly all-inclusive, abandoning the gay branding.
For Victoria club-goer Lauren Lariviere, Paparazzi was one of the nightclubs she used to enjoy patronizing as a queer woman, but now no longer feels safe attending due to what she describes as a mostly cisgender male clientele, as in a person who chooses to continue presenting as their assigned sex and are oftentimes straight passing.
“I would say that the majority of queer people used to go to Paparazzi a lot. It was the choice club for queer people to go to,” she told Black Press Media in a phone interview.
“In general, there really isn’t anywhere to hang out other than the club or the bar if you’re gay and you’re trying to be in a place with other gay people.”
Gay bars exist as a safe haven, to offer reprieve from other spaces that have historically not been safe for queer people. Jo Van Winkle, a queer advocate from Chilliwack who currently resides in Prince George posited.
“They were built for protection, and being able to enjoy life, party, hang out with your friends, but in a way where you’re not scared to get beat up or in many cases a lot worse,” they said in an interview.
In more rural communities, like Prince George, there are even fewer dedicated spaces. In their area, they said the most gay-friendly place is a bookstore.
“Having representation of all types I think is super important, and not just that polished, YouTube style,” they said.
It is that need for different representation that friends Shanique Kelly and Tadia Rosen are seeking to fill in Vancouver.
Their queer wine social, ‘Fruit Forward,’ hosts events for LGBTQ+ community members to channel their inner sommelier, and make new friends in the process.
“People just really are hungry to connect, and actually be able to talk to each other in ways that don’t just feel like yelling over each other in the club,” Rosen said.
“It’s really important to do our best to create spaces for queer folks that mitigate that harm that so many of us are experiencing in our day to day life,” Kelly said.
The events also include alcohol-free wines so all folks can feel welcomed to have fun.
Both Kelly and Rosen work in the nightlife industry, and have seen problems that arise in spaces that try to brand as all-inclusive, but merely with a rainbow sticker on the window.
“To have people enter your space under the guise of expecting a level of harm reduction or safety and then not experience that is more harmful than just not saying anything at all,” Kelly said.
The two also expressed Fruit Forward as trying to be a safe and fun social space in among a landscape that does not boast very many.
“There’s so much queer culture happening very much underground because we don’t have those spaces,” Rosen said.
‘So much more than just a club’
What every person Black Press Media interviewed agreed upon, is that these spaces are more than just a place to go out for an evening.
“It feels… to an outsider, it’s like ‘oh you’re just at the club’, but it’s really not. Especially for a lot of people who maybe their family or work environment isn’t accepting of it,” Rosen said, getting emotional at the sentiment.
“It means so much more than just a club.”
So how can communities offer more inclusive or queer-centre spaces? Listening to the ideas of those who these events and places would be targeted to.
“The biggest tool that we have to fight any form of hatred, is knowledge,” Van Winkle said – a sentiment that Kelly and Rosen reinforced.
Kelly suggested things like seeking out queer event planners for gay nights at bars, researching and listening to complaints without being dismissive.
“If you’re not sure how to go about it, go about changing something and instead of expecting that labour for free, go to your queer staff and ask what might make the space better.
“Follow their lead.”
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