Long touted as the New York City of mountain towns, Whistler has made its mark on the international gay and lesbian scene. Each year in early February thousands of revellers fly in for a week of parties, luxury and skiing, otherwise known as Altitude or Gay Ski Week. The week-long celebration culminates with the hugely popular Snowball.
Last year, more than 3,500 guests flocked to Whistler during Altitude and the village was awash with rainbow paraphernalia. In the wake of the exodus, however, I was left to wonder: Where did all the gay people go?
In a town of almost 10,000 you'd imagine that we would have a fairly significant gay community, but I couldn't find a soul. It occurred to me that, amidst the big air comps and Red Bull and testosterone, perhaps this wasn't the haven that we supposed.
My search for answers led me to some interesting questions. As I passed the high school each morning, I pondered what it must be like to grow up in a place where so many people value the same things. In tightly knit communities there is often a prevalent language that most people speak. Here it is the language of athletics; in small town Ontario it's farming. The differences are both slim and extreme. The work ethic that is applied to athletics in this town can be translated into long hours on the farm somewhere else. I was left with a nagging thought: In spite of our worldly savoir fair, were we really as sophisticated as we seemed?
I began my search for answers with Blair Hirtle, the Whistler co-ordinator for Altitude and an employee of Tourism Whistler. Hirtle moved up here in the spring of 2002. While he was familiar with the area, he took his time before relocating from the city.
"You can get nervous with the idea of a rural place, you feel more protected in an urban environment, with a larger community. Although Whistler has a lot of things that the city doesn't, isolation is always a problem, especially in the winter months.
"But," he grins cheerfully, "thank God for the Internet!"
There are several gay and lesbian resources on the Internet, such as Outboard (outboard.org), a homepage for gay skiers and snowboarders. People can sign up and connect with other winter sport enthusiasts and arrange transportation and accommodation in a safe, gay-friendly setting.
"These really are a godsend for a lot of people," says Hirtle.
In a mountain town, where isolation is a fact of life, this proves to be no small thing.
"A lot of people come here for the quiet, to get away from the city, but they still want to feel connected to a community," says Hirtle.
In the absence of a strong local gay population, many of Hirtle's friends volunteer at festivals and events in order to connect with visitors from other gay communities. He cites Cornucopia - "A really open-minded, liberated crowd" - and Altitude as two favourites, with many local gay men and women volunteering as ski guides and hosts for visitors during the festivals.
When asked about any reservations he may have had in coming to Whistler, Hirtle says he has always found Whistler to be "more tolerant than most other towns," a place that "breaks barriers. And more so every year, it gets better and better."
He says that his work at Tourism Whistler is no small part of his positive experience.
"I'm lucky I work for Tourism Whistler. it's a positive, progressive working environment."
Hirtle notes that the fact that he is in his early 30s has made his transition easier.
"I've lived my youth, have begun to establish myself in a career. I'm basically more comfortable in my own skin now. It makes it easier."
He imagines it would probably be pretty difficult to come out in a town like Whistler, as it is in many ways still very traditional and "younger, not financially secure kids, stuck in a demographic (skier, snowboarder) might find it more daunting. Also, being away from home, knowing you may only be here a season, being transient. it can be hard. There's just not a big, obvious local community, but longer term residents are more urban and more open to that. It's 2004, there shouldn't be so many hang-ups."
Progress
In context, same sex rights in Canada have progressed mightily in the last half-century. Less than 40 years ago the Supreme Court of Canada backed a ruling that labelled Everett Klippert a dangerous sexual offender and threw him in prison for admitting he was gay. That seems a lifetime ago from the current battle for legal gay marriage.
In July 2003 the Canadian government unveiled draft legislation that would change the definition of marriage to include unions of same sex couples. The issue has caused an uproar among certain church leaders and traditionalists, although it seems to be greeted with acceptance by the wider population.
Dr. Amy Rein, 39, and Dr. Lisa Skerritt, 38, are the co owners of Solarice Wellness Centre and Spa, which opened in April 2003. Neither of them were strangers to Whistler, having been weekenders for many years.
"We both love the mountains," adds Skerritt. "For years we talked about moving. Amy got me into snowboarding and that was it. I'm from the islands and used to hate the cold. Now come October and November we're both gnashing our teeth for snow!"
As a clnical psychologist and doctor of traditional medicine, Rein and Skerritt had been living and working in Vancouver for the last 14 years, and partners for the last five. They had long dreamt of opening a wellness centre "where we could both practice under the same roof."
"We had always wanted to move to a rural community," Skerritt continues, "but we couldn't find one where we could make a living. We wanted to get out of the city but knew how narrow-minded some rural communities could be."
The couple was drawn to Whistler because it "felt open minded, secure. People seemed so educated, so worldly. We were right, we've had a wonderful reception. Nobody bats an eye. People see us with our child and respond with interest. They're very informed. It's been an extremely positive experience."
Skerritt notes that, as parents "it's not just about how we will be received. Now it's even more important. We can't be in the closet and have our children think we've internalized homophobia. I think there's homophobia everywhere, rampant among the young. But I don't see it coming from their parents because we don't hear the parents speak like that. They're getting it from movies, older kids."
She voices concerns about her son entering into the school system but recognizes that "it's nerve wracking for any parent.
"The gay issue doesn't even come up for me. I'm more concerned about whether he's going to have a meltdown after I leave, or not share his toys."
She notes that there are still barriers to acceptance of the gay lifestyle in traditional school systems, pointing to the Surrey School Board's banning of gay-friendly children's books, such as Asha's Two Mums.
"It's upsetting," says Skerritt. "There are a handful of right wing people who think that gay people have an agenda." She voices concerns that the removal of those books will beget "children brought up not realizing that there is a difference. We're quite nervous that it will confuse him (their son). He's never in contact with people who speak that way. He thinks everyone is the same as him."
Skerritt notes, however, that she and her partner have escaped any overt homophobia. Both come from "fairly conservative" families but "they are thrilled that we have each other, about our kids. I haven't had, in my life, to deal with a lot of gay issues. It's terrible back home (St. Kitts), but I left that behind me. I have chosen to surround myself with people who are open. Fear has never been a big part of my life. I always knew that I'd have kids."
They have brought their love of community into the work place, using Solarice as a way to give back to the community they have been so welcomed in.
"We offer free meditation on Wednesday evenings, yoga by donation. We've done a lot with silent auctions and local charities," says Skerritt. "We love Whistler and the community here, and will continue to support it however we can. The wellness centre is a way to do that."
They are offering a women's only spa on Thursday, Feb. 5, from 4 to 7 p.m., in honour of Altitude week.
Acceptance
In keeping with the cadence of the town, there seems to be an overall acceptance of everything. It's just hard to raise eyebrows around here. I was still curious, however, what it would be like for someone younger, more entrenched in the athletic community.
I headed to the slopes to find David Hill, 26.
As a housing advisor in staff accommodations, Hill works to "keep the peace when people are complaining about noise at night, lose their keys, get locked out." He cites his role as comparable to a don in university residence and, since he spends his days as a ski instructor, he finds it convenient as well.
Hill says the hardest work he's done, however, was coming out to his fellow ski instructors.
After moving to Whistler three years ago Hill says he initially felt hesitant.
"I'd been out for three years, since university. My parents knew, my friends. I was used to being out. But it was different here, it had the feel of being back in high school again, a lot of testosterone, machismo. I had the feeling of being slammed in the closet again, all of the same insecurities came up.. Feeling that 'oh my god, if they find out I'm going to get beaten up by a group of drunken enraged co-workers after the bar. They're all going to think that I want to sleep with them.'
"And working in ski school. there's the perception that if you're gay and a teacher, that you're a pedophile. It was a concern when I was in the Con-Ed program at Trent... It's harder as a male. I just didn't want to deal with the implication, the pressure."
He said it was frustration at having to constantly be on guard that finally caused him to come out.
"I'm a really open person, and I like talking about things that I've done but I started changing names. 'Vince' becomes 'Vicki' etc. It just gets to that point where, why am I doing this?"
He notes, however, that things weren't as bad as they seemed.
"You think it's a big deal, but it's not. Most people won't care. A lot of the guys found out and went through that phase where they didn't know what to do and then most of them got over it. I haven't lost any friends over it."
Hill voices the common mantra that there is no discernible gay community in Whistler and says that he's met most of his gay friends through Skiout (skiout.org), a locally founded organization that connects gay and lesbian skiers and boarders.
"We meet every second week on the top of Whistler. It's a really good group of people, mostly from the city."
The connections have proved to be important to Hill as he plans to move to the city himself, come spring.
"It's a whole different scene in the summer, completely. I worked at a golf course last summer and it gets worse. In the winter everyone I interact with is ski school - easy going, liberal, they don't care. In the spring they all leave and it's a completely different crowd, more old school locals. The average person worked for 12 hours a day twice a week and then mountain biked for five days straight. It brings machismo to a whole new level. I was completely back in the closet. I was warned by co-workers 'Don't come out here, don't do it. It's not worth it.' And I didn't. No way."
He says that some of the older, more established locals have proved to be a really strong support network for him throughout his time in Whistler.
"Peter (Dinz, the founder of Skiout) lets me stay at his place when I need to, has me over for dinners. It makes a difference. You miss the huge community that there is in a city. It's just a totally different experience."
Greg McDonnell, a youth outreach worker for the Whistler area, concedes that it may indeed be a tough town for youth to come out in.
"My hunch is that it is probably similar to a small rural town for a youth that would be coming out. I don't think we're any more progressive despite the fact that we have things like Altitude week. Whistler on a global scale is very progressive and accepting but I imagine, for youth coming out at the high school, it would be a little challenging.
"It is a school that is very centred on academics and athletics and, remember, that in a school of Grade 7 to Grade 12 there are only 350 students. It's very small and it's interesting. As a youth worker, I know the students don't really know the weight behind those words but I certainly hear lots of words like 'You fag,' and 'Don't be a lesbo' on a regular basis and the youth - although they don't really know the meaning of those terms - I work to dispel those stereotypes and my hunch is that they are less progressive than you might think. It would be as difficult as a small rural town, here in Whistler."
McDonnell does note, however, that Whistler has a variety of resources for students that are considering coming out and/or questioning their sexuality. He points to himself and Tessa McLoughlin, Whistler's female youth outreach worker, as available to help students access services like free counselling through Whistler Community Services Counselling Assistance Fund or the Crisis Stabilization Team.
"If they are experiencing anxiety, depression, stress or suicidal feelings they can phone the Crisis Stabilization Team at 1-866-892-6365," says McDonnell. "They'll have an online assessment and there are services available to them towards emotional balance, work groups and life skills work groups. There are services in place to help."
Explorations
Far from the village or the corporate arena I found Andrea Wing, 29, on the other end of the spectrum. A worker in the forestry industry and a municipal employee, she has lived and worked in Pemberton over the last seven years. Andrea's experiences have been thoroughly positive throughout her time in the region.
She cites being up front about the issue as the most important aspect in dealing with others' reactions.
"I think it's important to be up front so that you don't look like you're hiding anything and, also, because if you do it leads to the presumption that what you're doing is bad."
She say she has never encountered fear in the workplace or in the community and says her partner has found the same thing.
"I haven't really ever felt any negative emotion around our choices. People get a kick out of it. I actually think it's an advantage. I feel that being gay you can get to a place where you can hang out with guys on a different level. It actually breaks down some barriers."
Regarding the makeup of the local gay community, Andrea notes that it's different from the Vancouver scene.
"We're different from gay girls in the city. We have a lot of friends there and it's just different. It's not a scene up here. Down there, it's a scene."
She adds that the Whistler gay community is much smaller and low key. She only has two lesbian friends in the area but notes, "We just went to our first gay baby shower. That was pretty interesting!"
In the wake of my explorations I found myself musing about the makeup of the town I've chosen to live in. Certainly we are lucky to live in a place where homosexuality is recognized and, while our local gay population is not prevalent, it occurs to me that, like any other dynamic of our community, maybe it doesn't need to be. Fear of difference still exists, as it always will, but we seem to be doing our part to move through that.
People arrive in this valley on all sorts of journeys, in search of their passion or their footing. And if, in our searches, we are unable to find the answers, perhaps the best we can do is become more sophisticated at asking the questions. Perhaps the purpose of our lives is to arrive at these moments of truth, at whatever pace we can manage. As a writer, as a gay woman, I had found what I was looking for, that much at least.
