Historic and amazing weekend
Saturday
The morning commenced with housecleaning in preparation for my new flatmate to move in. I cleaned the kitchen bench and put on a load of laundry. My new flatmate arrived and I left him cleaning the kitchen bench.
Beofre I left home, I was exited that we had come so far. Our achievements were due in large part to Alex Greenwich as our public spokepserson and to the strong support of Rodney Croome. I was not prepared for what the day would bring forth.
After walking through the Saturday shoppers in Pitt Street Mall where I contemplated stopping for a coffee, I arrived at Hyde Park North at 11:50am. There were already about a thousand people in the park for the rally. The sun was shining contrary to the weather bureau's prediction of rain. According to my custom, I was prepared with my PFLAG rainbow umbrella which has multiple uses in keeping me dry, keeping the sun off my Celtic skin and making me visible.I connected with AME and choir people but setlled with the choir people as we would be singing together at the end of the rally. I learnt then that the ALP National Conference had come to a decision to change the ALP platform to support marriage equality but to allow MPs and Senators a conscience vote on the issue.
The introduction to the rally by Cat Rose and Ben Cooper was followed with a 'Welcome to Country' and then articulate speeches by, among others, Peter Urmison, CEO of Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, Clover Moore, Mayor of the City of Sydney and Norrie May Welby who need be nothing more than hirself. We then took to the streets.
As a member of Come Out Epping, I had been pleased to dine with a group of gay men at Epping RSL Club, Hornsby RSL and Eastwood Leagues Club and to take part in a float with PFLAG in the Eastwood Granny Smith Festival over several years. In doing that we were claiming those spaces as belonging to LGBTI people as well as to straight people.
On Saturday, we claimed the city, not just the gay precinct of Oxford Street, but Hyde Parke, the Pitt Street Mall which enjoys the highest retail rentals of almost anywhere in the world, George Street past the Queen Victoria Building then down Druitt Street to the Darling Harbour Convention Centre where the ALP national conference was being held. Sydney was ours for the afternoon.
It amazed me how few police were in attendance. There were only police at the major intersections and I actually felt that we could be vulnerable to impatient motorists at the other intersections. It was such a contrast to the 'Occupy' demonstrations in other parts of the word. We had taken over the city and it was ironical that, not only was there no one to stop us, but there was no one to protect us!
We arrived at Darling Harbour and the choir peeled off to group under the palm trees. A lovely lady from the choir kept taking my shoulder as wave after wave of LGBTI people entered Darling Harbour saying, "It's fabulous! It's fabulous!". I could not disagree.
Sarah, our musical director arrived, with a revised approach to our performance, and we then made our way to the stage. Mel, our events coordinator, and I were leading the way with my trusty rainbow umbrella held aloft, leading the chosen people. After several speeches, including those by ALP conference delegates such as the wonderful Senator Louise Pratt who wanted to celebrate their victory at the conference, we concluded the rally with a couple of freedom songs from South Africa, as well as 'Going to the Chapel'.
"I am Australian' had been on our list of songs but it didn't happen. In the end, it didn't need to. Those who understood, understood. Those who didn't understand will probably never will.
Sunday
Philllip Street resonates for those who are lawyers. Across Queen Square from St James King Street is the NSW Supreme Court, at the end of Phillip Street. One block east of Phillip Street is the NSW Parliament in Macquarie Street. Such as it is, this is the precinct of legislative and judicial power in the state of NSW.
I have had two friends with chambers in Phillip Street. One of those was, and maybe, still is, a frequent visitor to the NSW Leagues Club. The legal world and the rugby world (union or leagues) were also completely alien to me. The NSW Leagues Club is the social centre of power in this precinct. Until the last few years, I was never a part of it.
This morning, I could have stayed home and done some more housework.
Instead, I went to church at St James King Street. It is the second Sunday of Advent, and the opening hymn was 'O come! O come, Emmanuel!'. You don't have to be gay and to feel excluded to feel as though you don't get it. However, I do get it. My life would be so much poorer without the story that is played out annually, again and again every year.
Among our congregation today was a former Federal cabinet minister and his wife. When the sermon came to the Christian responsibility for our custodianship of the earth, our federal MP seemed to be very uncomfortable. I know he will probably never get it. His father was an MP in the north west of Sydney and that is the only world he has ever known. Even in Sydney, people do not move around much. Why are we not surprised that he doesn't get it?
My friends and I adjourned to the Leagues Club afterwards. I am the only one who wears a rainbow wristband. That is because most of those of my generation have learnt how to survive by speaking in code. We are there but we are invisible. It took me a while to understand the code and I do now, but I prefer to be completely open. I am not so invisible. I expect that younger members of the parish don't feel the need to be so explicitly identified. But I know that some of them do.
During lunch our conversation turned to marriage equality. In fact, once the service was finished, that is all that my conversation was about. Without revealing too much, I know that I, and my LGBTI associates, enjoy a great deal of support from this congregation. Then Ben Cooper called, and I had to withdraw from this interesting conversation on marriage equality with a north coast boy to talk to another (much younger) north coast boy who has made a huge difference.
The morning commenced with housecleaning in preparation for my new flatmate to move in. I cleaned the kitchen bench and put on a load of laundry. My new flatmate arrived and I left him cleaning the kitchen bench.
Beofre I left home, I was exited that we had come so far. Our achievements were due in large part to Alex Greenwich as our public spokepserson and to the strong support of Rodney Croome. I was not prepared for what the day would bring forth.
After walking through the Saturday shoppers in Pitt Street Mall where I contemplated stopping for a coffee, I arrived at Hyde Park North at 11:50am. There were already about a thousand people in the park for the rally. The sun was shining contrary to the weather bureau's prediction of rain. According to my custom, I was prepared with my PFLAG rainbow umbrella which has multiple uses in keeping me dry, keeping the sun off my Celtic skin and making me visible.I connected with AME and choir people but setlled with the choir people as we would be singing together at the end of the rally. I learnt then that the ALP National Conference had come to a decision to change the ALP platform to support marriage equality but to allow MPs and Senators a conscience vote on the issue.
The introduction to the rally by Cat Rose and Ben Cooper was followed with a 'Welcome to Country' and then articulate speeches by, among others, Peter Urmison, CEO of Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, Clover Moore, Mayor of the City of Sydney and Norrie May Welby who need be nothing more than hirself. We then took to the streets.
As a member of Come Out Epping, I had been pleased to dine with a group of gay men at Epping RSL Club, Hornsby RSL and Eastwood Leagues Club and to take part in a float with PFLAG in the Eastwood Granny Smith Festival over several years. In doing that we were claiming those spaces as belonging to LGBTI people as well as to straight people.
On Saturday, we claimed the city, not just the gay precinct of Oxford Street, but Hyde Parke, the Pitt Street Mall which enjoys the highest retail rentals of almost anywhere in the world, George Street past the Queen Victoria Building then down Druitt Street to the Darling Harbour Convention Centre where the ALP national conference was being held. Sydney was ours for the afternoon.
It amazed me how few police were in attendance. There were only police at the major intersections and I actually felt that we could be vulnerable to impatient motorists at the other intersections. It was such a contrast to the 'Occupy' demonstrations in other parts of the word. We had taken over the city and it was ironical that, not only was there no one to stop us, but there was no one to protect us!
We arrived at Darling Harbour and the choir peeled off to group under the palm trees. A lovely lady from the choir kept taking my shoulder as wave after wave of LGBTI people entered Darling Harbour saying, "It's fabulous! It's fabulous!". I could not disagree.
Sarah, our musical director arrived, with a revised approach to our performance, and we then made our way to the stage. Mel, our events coordinator, and I were leading the way with my trusty rainbow umbrella held aloft, leading the chosen people. After several speeches, including those by ALP conference delegates such as the wonderful Senator Louise Pratt who wanted to celebrate their victory at the conference, we concluded the rally with a couple of freedom songs from South Africa, as well as 'Going to the Chapel'.
"I am Australian' had been on our list of songs but it didn't happen. In the end, it didn't need to. Those who understood, understood. Those who didn't understand will probably never will.
Sunday
Philllip Street resonates for those who are lawyers. Across Queen Square from St James King Street is the NSW Supreme Court, at the end of Phillip Street. One block east of Phillip Street is the NSW Parliament in Macquarie Street. Such as it is, this is the precinct of legislative and judicial power in the state of NSW.
I have had two friends with chambers in Phillip Street. One of those was, and maybe, still is, a frequent visitor to the NSW Leagues Club. The legal world and the rugby world (union or leagues) were also completely alien to me. The NSW Leagues Club is the social centre of power in this precinct. Until the last few years, I was never a part of it.
This morning, I could have stayed home and done some more housework.
Instead, I went to church at St James King Street. It is the second Sunday of Advent, and the opening hymn was 'O come! O come, Emmanuel!'. You don't have to be gay and to feel excluded to feel as though you don't get it. However, I do get it. My life would be so much poorer without the story that is played out annually, again and again every year.
Among our congregation today was a former Federal cabinet minister and his wife. When the sermon came to the Christian responsibility for our custodianship of the earth, our federal MP seemed to be very uncomfortable. I know he will probably never get it. His father was an MP in the north west of Sydney and that is the only world he has ever known. Even in Sydney, people do not move around much. Why are we not surprised that he doesn't get it?
My friends and I adjourned to the Leagues Club afterwards. I am the only one who wears a rainbow wristband. That is because most of those of my generation have learnt how to survive by speaking in code. We are there but we are invisible. It took me a while to understand the code and I do now, but I prefer to be completely open. I am not so invisible. I expect that younger members of the parish don't feel the need to be so explicitly identified. But I know that some of them do.
During lunch our conversation turned to marriage equality. In fact, once the service was finished, that is all that my conversation was about. Without revealing too much, I know that I, and my LGBTI associates, enjoy a great deal of support from this congregation. Then Ben Cooper called, and I had to withdraw from this interesting conversation on marriage equality with a north coast boy to talk to another (much younger) north coast boy who has made a huge difference.