Yesterday's spectacle was not only a spectacle, it was an affirmation.  It was a safe space space for all people to come together to celebrate sexual and gender diversity, shine the spotlight on countries still living in the dark ages when it comes to basic human rights, and yes, flash a little skin!!!!  

Rainbow flags were ubiquitous, as were rainbow-themed costumes, which ranged from cute to outlandish and garish to, well, not my taste!

Our Sunday began with brunch together with a retired colleague, who also happens to be the parent of a former student of mine.  Two of her three children are gay, and about a third of those in attendance at the brunch were, too.  The barely-majority remnants were allies, and would imminently be outnumbered as we headed over to the Yonge street and poured onto the parade route along with thousands of other spectators.

From babies to the "young at heart", the spectators vied for a spot from which to watch the proceedings...  Alex and Simon lucked out and perched atop a garbage and recycling bin (it turned out to be a coveted spot that was immediately taken by replacement watchers the second the boys hopped off an hour and a half later when they headed off for a swim back at the apartment with our babysitter, whom we had enlisted for the afternoon!!)

After the Dykes on Bikes and the Grand Marshall (who also happens to be my pastor), flags from around the world led the parade, signifying the intentionally international flavour of this year's event.

In addition to lining the streets, many onlookers sat on the roofs and hung out the windows of nearby buildings...

Despite some recent, disturbing conversations I have had with a handful of fairly ignorant individuals, it was hard not to to feel optimistic when surrounded by so many happy, gay people!  The tidal wave of tolerance, acceptance and commitment to understanding the issues (rather than merely judging from a position of power and privilege) and furthering human rights around the world washes away the drips and drabs of the uneducated minority.

Spending a sunny day with friends, family and friendly strangers made me realise once again how very lucky I am to be living in a progressive country like Canada: Just when I'm starting to finally wrap my head around Stonewall and the historical and political significance of the Dyke March, I'm challenged to consider incredible hardships faced by people who live in places like Nigeria, where homosexuality is punishable by death, or Russia, where same sex families live in constant fear of their children being removed from the family.  What seems a frivolous spectacle , an extravagant luxury in Toronto is a fight for one's very being in many places around the world.

Increasingly, I have come to believe that there is only ONE fight for social justice:  LGBTI awareness, feminism, the Civil Rights movement, the fight to end poverty and child labour... all share tenets of the same battle.  

In addition to  "regular" Pride, Toronto is this year playing host to World Pride, an international event taking place every four years in a different city around the world.  (This is the first time WP has been in North America.)

With Pride celebrations becoming an increasingly global trend, the LGBTTQQIA movement has taken on more of a focus on human rights (and in particular, trans rights) in recent years.  Toronto's World Pride included a 3-day Human Rights Conference hosted at the University of Toronto.

Since our apartment in Mimico had been subletted for our year in Argentina, we decided to rent a place downtown right in the middle of the action for a few weeks; an aviation friend of ours from PEI joined us for a few days at the beginning, and in addition to some concerts and a ball game he already had on his agenda, we managed to drag him along to several Pride-related events...

Opening Ceremonies

The Flag Raising and Opening Ceremonies were held at City Hall last Friday evening.  How amazing it was to be back in Toronto at a time when there is hope for a new Mayor (while Ford is in rehab, several strong candidates have come forward to run and replace him in office), and when an intelligent, talented, articulate woman (who also happens to be GAY!!!) has just been voted into provincial leadership!

Queer Girl Picnic at Christie Pits

On Sunday of Pride's opening weekend, Autostraddle organized a picnic, and we decided to join in the fun.  Assuming allies would be welcome, we brought Brian along with some Alfajors and German Kartoffelsalat.  Both the food and Brian were welcomed without question, but the latter turned out to be the only man there, lol!

After Tats ripped her shirt playing frisbee (first with a dachsund, and then with some lesbians), she continued her sporty trend, and bruised several fingers playing her first game ever of touch football!

The Island

One of my favourite places to visit in summer is the Toronto Islands.  And what better way to celebrate Pride than with a visit to Hanlan's Point?  Although we did not visit the "clothing optional" beach there, we did have a little picnic and do some geocaching before heading over to Centreville so the boys could spend time on their favourite rides, and then -- the few of us left by then, I mean -- on to Ward's where we had dinner at the Rectory Cafe before being caught in the rain and boarding a ferry back to the city.

I think my favourite photo below is the one of Brian holding down the fort while the boys are at Centreville, Adele and Rick are off getting a coffee, Vinx has already left to go see his mother, and Tats and I are just coming back from geocaching...  all alone with the Pride flag sticking out of the picnic table, he looks like a sweet, lonely, elderly gay man, picnic all set up, waiting for some other nice gentleman to join him!!! :D  What a good sport he's been!

Living Downtown

Living downtown for the week meant we could easily walk or bike pretty much anywhere... we did lots of both, even through the ceaseless summer Toronto construction. 

Once Brian headed back to PEI, the kids spent a few days with us. One memorable ride took us to a nearby gelato shop ("Lick It Gelato" on Queens Quay) -- yum!  We also visited a large library with an amazing children's section...

Human Rights Around the World

Although I was doing some supply teaching during the day, Tats and I were able to attend one of the panel discussions, free of charge and open to the public, that formed part of the Human Rights conference.  As we approach the venue, it was so nice to see the cheery rainbow flags adorning the facade of University College, adjacent the field from Convocation Hall!

We heard two speakers, Masha Gessen  (a Russian-American journalist) and Tamara Adrian (a trans advocate from Venezuela).  Both speakers shared the message of importance about making public the names of individual activists whose lives were in danger, not just in their own two countries, but in countries around the world, in order to increase pressure on governments who currently uphold homophobic policies.  I reflected on a comment made by one of the speakers about choosing what to say (with regards to LGBTI rights) in different contexts, and how that choice is somewhat of a luxury for those of us living and working in countries like Canada, while those in some other countries couldn't or wouldn't speak up out of fear, sometimes fear for their very lives!

Sitting in Convocation Hall, I looked around at the great variety of LGBTI folks who had come together to learn about and share with/from one another what was happening on the Human Rights front in countries around the world.  I realised how lucky I am to be living in a place so culturally advanced in terms of inclusion and rights, and I was reminded of the importance of working for the rights and freedoms of our sisters and brothers around the world, while we celebrate our own liberty here in Canada!

After the panel, a good friend (an "ally") took us out for dinner and conversation.

Tats bought a handmade bowtie, and we found the PEI Pride "booth" (see the last pic below).  There was even a booth for gay pilots!!!

It was so much fun not being a minority for a change... and being in a truly safe space, with so many thousands of people like me!  There were smiles, hugs, laughter everywhere, and such broad inclusion... truly, it makes the hatred remarkable.  I just don't get it!

Here's looking forward to brunch with friends tomorrow, and then the Parade, in all its colourful, sexy, outrageous glory!

Thanks to the generosity of our host last week, we were able to visit the new Ripley's Aquarium, which is located at the base of the CN Tower in Downtown Toronto.  The display is well executed, and we had a great time experiencing the diversity of underwater life, and learning a little more about our favourite sea creatures.

Click below to begin the show...

It's Fathers' Day... and those of us who are fatherless or who have "Daddy issues" have to face another emotionally challenging day... This year, I want to take some time to celebrate Horst Seidel, who was my mother's special friend and my father figure during my turbulent teenage years, and who stayed in touch, even after my mother died when I was 21.

Horst died a few weeks ago, and I was invited to contribute a little something for his life celebration, happening later this summer while I am out of the province.  Below are a few things about Horst, written to Marilyn and her guests (Marilyn was his life partner, whom he met after my mother)....

Horst Seidel - a Few Memories About a Tall Man

By the time you reach the age that Horst reached at his death this past spring, you've acted in many roles and on many stages in the drama of life.  I knew Horst when he was in the "Toronto" stage of his life; he was my mother Carola's special friend for approximately a decade until her untimely death at age 54, and, in a sense, the closest thing to a father figure that I knew (my own father having died when I was a baby).

I'd like to share a few memories from this time, and tell you a little bit about the influence this man had on me, a restless and somewhat troublesome teenager in the 1980s!

I don't remember the first time I met Horst very well; I would have been about 10 years old... but I do remember thinking he was VERY tall! :)

Being the only child of a single mother, I was quick to bond with him and team up on my mom; I was (and still am) an extreme extrovert, and Horst, well, not so much!  But I found in him a sort of silent supporter when things went belly up with my mother, as they often did during those turbulent teenage years...  he would drive me places and pick me up when she stoically insisted that I was old enough and should be independent enough to take a bus or a subway.  And, since he had a sporty little red car, it was nice to catch a ride with him.

Horst was also the primary driver to German School which I had to attend every Saturday morning until Grade 13 -- every weekend we'd set out, and on the way to school, we would stop at the corner store so Horst could pick up the paper, and he'd often buy me a sugary treat, too!  I looked forward to our little routine.  After German school, Horst would pick me up again, and on the way home, we'd stop at the German deli on Lakeshore to pick up buns, cheese, salami for lunch.

It was during these car rides that Horst introduced me to bands like Rush, Pink Floyd and other rock classics.  I had been raised entirely on classical and baroque music, and this was my first introduction to "cool" music! :D  My mother would never allow this sort of thing in the car whether en route to German school or to the "cottage" in Bancroft, but when Horst and I were alone, we'd crank the tunes on his car stereo, and enjoy a strong beat and a great melody!!!

Music has always been a very emotional part of my soul, and it was for Horst, too:  Whenever he heard a national anthem or a traditional German march, he would get teary eyed; despite living abroad for so long, he was still rather a nationalist, and could not control his emotions when it came to patriotic music -- What a sight it was to see such a big, strong man reduced to tears! :)

He also kept in touch with his German roots through regular phone calls to his mother while she was still alive and -- twice during my time -- a visit with his brother in Germany.

One of the reasons my mother was attracted to Horst was his ability to build things and understand construction issues like plumbing and electricity.  I remember one winter when Horst had finally had enough of crouching in our tiny bathroom upstairs: My mother and I lived in a small, war-time semi-detached in Toronto's west end, and -- unfortunately -- it just wasn't built for tall people like Horst.  He decided he was going to build his own, Horst-sized shower....  Every weekend, he would disappear into the basement to work for several hours.  Occasionally, we'd hear a loud string of profanity let loose, when the hammer had found Horst's thumb, for example, instead of the nail it was supposed to be pounding.  My mother tried to shelter me from these occasions, and kept me out of the basement during these work projects, but I was very impressed:  In general, Horst was a pretty quiet, unassuming fellow, and the loud, angry swear words were quite exciting to me as a teenager, and showed there was more to Horst than the gentle giant who made such a docile first impression!

In my home and garden are many large pieces of quartz and other rocks and minerals, and I have long had an affinity for interesting rocks.  This love for the natural world was another gift Horst gave me: Every summer at the cottage, we would visit local mines to collect more treasures, and go to Bancroft's "Rockhound Gemboree" -- it was a highlight of my summers!

Although we continued to have regular phone contact and the occasional visit after my mother died (he called me every year on my birthday and I him on his, and we exchanged Christmas cards, too), many parts of Horst's early life remained a mystery for me.

I know, for example, that he had biological children/grandchildren, but I knew very little about them.

I also know that Horst had spent some time in Argentina, but I have no idea what the context was, what he did there, how long he was there.  This became particularly interesting to me this past year, as my partner, our kids and I lived for eight months in Buenos Aires.  I would have loved to talk more to Horst about his adventures there!

The last time I saw Horst in person was while he was staying in the hospital in Brampton not too long ago.  I was working full time in Mississauga, and raising two kids in south Etobicoke, so I was not able to get up to Brampton very often, but I am so grateful for the few visits we had, and the reconnections we made during that time.  He was very sick, of course, but still a tall and impressive man!

Horst and I spoke on the phone in January, and he sounded tired.

I am personally grateful for the companionship Horst provided to my mother over the years he was with her. And as a parent now myself, I can better appreciate the support he gave me and my grandmother, too, who came with the package!  

As Horst saw my mother through the end stages of her cancer, I had already become a young adult, and so there was not a great need, really, for him to "take care" of me in any concrete sense once she died.  I also know that although his time with Carola provided Horst with many interesting adventures and some happy memories, the real joy he found -- as far as personal relationships were concerned --  was in his subsequent partnership, with you, Marilyn, who are now left to unite those of us who have come together here to celebrate his life.

In addition to having a similar story with your previous partner's illness, you shared Horst's great love of the outdoors, of life at the cottage, and you truly helped to make his little Bancroft nest a cosy home from which to enjoy retirement.  I am so grateful, on Horst's behalf, for your companionship: How lucky you both were to find one another and spend many of your twilight years enjoying one another's company.

Let me wrap a proverbial arm around you now, Marilyn, as you grieve the loss of your companion, your love, your Horst.  Know that all those gathered with you at this special event, as well as those of us who are with you in spirit, from a distance, celebrate his many roles and his rich life together today!

Now I have children myself, and I feel very fortunate that -- in addition to their biological dad -- they have a number of vibrant, interesting men in their lives to care deeply about them.

Thank you, Vinx, Joel, Rick and to all of you who have made and continue to make a positive impact in Alex and Simon's lives.  We appreciate you; Happy Fathers' Day!

The neat thing about staying with friends in different parts of the city is that one gets to explore a Toronto not usually part of our "scene" in Mimico.

After spending the morning at Wychwood Barns Farmers' Market, we did a little geocaching, which took us through a beautiful, wooded enclave of disgustingly huge private mansions near Taddle Creek and on to the Tollkeeper's Cottage, where we stopped for a comprehensive historical tour!

Afterwards, I noticed one of the futuristic new streetcars parked in an adjacent lot, and snapped the pic below right.  (They're apparently scheduled to roll out beginning in August.)

Having missed most of winter due to our Argentina adventures, we're having a new love affair with Toronto in summer, and bright, sunny days like this past Saturday are doing a great job to help keep us deluded about the city's harsher times of year!

Ottawa is bigger than I thought...

After facilitating a workshop for teachers in one part of the suburbs, I found myself with a few hours the next day before I had to fly back to Toronto, and so I decided to visit a colleague whom I had met online a few years ago, while working on a math and technology project.  His school was located in a completely different suburb!

Interestingly, the student population is in some ways quite similar to those I have taught in my own board, and it was fun to spend some time in a neighbouring board and see how much we have in common with other schools across the province.

One thing I really like about visiting other classrooms is picking up a few tips and tricks by "walking the walls".  In Wendler's classroom, I picked up an idea about using Plasticine to create models in Science and was reminded of the effectiveness of using scaffolds and sentence stems, even with classroom management procedures like having students write letters to explain behaviour. I also noticed that Wendler had a list posted of several math partners -- some with similar ability groupings, some with more heterogeneous groupings, so that depending on the task, he could say "Okay, today you are going to work with your 'S1' partner", for example.  (Today's task dealt with probability, so he used a random partner generator on the Smart Board while I drooled over his overhead mount projector that stayed put while he and the students moved around it, and cast far less shadow on the screen than the ones Trinder and I had had to contend with last year!)

After hanging out with my colleague's Grade 4 and 5 math classes for a few hours, I took the public bus downtown.  This was made possible in part by the school secretary, who told me where to go to catch said bus, and then by a nice lady who was waiting at the stop, and who gave me some bus tickets, since I had neither tickets nor cash on me!

Riding the bus afforded me the opportunity to enjoy Ottawa's treasure of greenery along the river outside the city.  I had not realized how lush the greater-Ottawa-area was.

Eventually, I arrived on Sparks Street, where I enjoyed a late lunch before visiting some of my favourite sites in our nation's capital:

Several veterans and First Nation people had gathered near the eternal flame, and I was able to catch the tail end of a ceremony, which included some drumming and throat singing.

Almost as impressive as the parliament buildings themselves is the large Chateau Laurier next door, which forms part of the historic Fairmont (formerly CP) hotel chain, and which overlooks the Rideau Canal.

I'd originally planned to walk over to the National Gallery (you can see the glass structure in the background of the first photo above) to view Voice of Fire, and my favourite painting, a Jacob Jordaens (which really needs to be seen live and in person to be appreciated fully), there, as well as snap a few pics of the big Spider sculpture outside for Alex and Simon (Ottawa was their first airplane destination, when they were three years old!)

But I suddenly felt very tired and run down.  So, I headed back to my hotel room -- this time by taxi -- ate some dinner, and found a photo of the National Gallery online in the commons instead! :)

Let me say first of all that Toronto's Yonge line in morning rush hour can give the Buenos Aires Subte a pretty good run for its money, as far as congestion is concerned! It was already 8 a.m. when I squeezed onto a nearly-jam-packed subway at Davisville station this morning with my "Math for MathPhobic Teachers" workshop in a carry-on bag and a backpack, and I did not manage to get a seat until we had nearly arrived at Union station.

I was pretty impressed with the new, bigger-feeling, more open subway cars, though, as well as the working announcement system that actually calls out the correct subway stops along the way, AND displays them electronically (and accurately) in several locations above the windows of the subway!

Union Station, where are you?! 

The ensconced-in-fog CN tower that greeted me when I stepped out onto the misty morning downtown street from the subway around 8:30 a.m. was eery enough; the fact that Toronto's union station had almost completely disappeared behind construction scaffolding  gave the normally busy downtown core a strange  impression.

Underground, a crowd to rival that of Retiro in BsAs  pushed through Toronto's busiest train station, but up on the street level, things were strangely quiet.  With so much construction, people had traded in Front Street for alternate routes to their downtown destinations.

The Porter Shuttle

Like an out-of-town tourist, I lugged my baggage to the nearest entrance of the Royal York hotel, and enquired as to where the temporarily displaced Porter shuttle stop was currently to be located -- the workshop I was facilitating was out of town, and I had to get to the airport to catch a 10:30 flight out of City Centre airport.

Two friendly porters directed me to the shuttle stop a few blocks over, and I was soon seated on the bus amidst fellow travelers on their way to CYTZ.

As we made our way through construction- and rush-hour-traffic-packed streets and down to the also-under-construction waterfront terminal, I reflected on how the city had changed... in addition to the massive Union Station construction project, several new buildings had sprung up here and there over the past 10 months....

Soon we arrived at the ferry terminal; it, too, was under construction, as Porter patrons will "soon" be able to walk to the airport, rather than take the world's shortest scheduled ferry.  

"Big" Airplanes for a Change

How strange it felt to be embarking on the ferry not to fly a Cessna, but to board a "real" aircraft that would carry me further than Claremont!

Upon checking in, I was told that all flights were grounded due to the fog:  My 10:30 flight was now delayed to at least 11:45 a.m., and did I want to book onto the 8:30 a.m. flight instead?  (That one was currently slated to depart at 9:45 am.)

I took the rebooking, and settled into the Porter lounge for some free tea and shortbread cookies.

Not for long, though, because they soon started boarding my new flight, and by 10:35 a.m., the 8:30 flight was in the air with me on it.

A short time later, we descended into Ottawa, and I was able to capture our break out of the clouds, and the opening of the landing gear on my trusty iPhone camera, in time for this quick blog before I head off to the workshop!