For Elio Colavito, Pride Month is so much more than large corporations putting a rainbow on their logos.
“It’s a time to remember, celebrate and give gratitude to those trans and trans queer ancestors who came before us, who did the hard work, rioted and raised hell so that young bucks like myself can live a different lifestyle,” they say.
Colavito is a trans non-binary PhD candidate in the Faculty of Arts & Science’s Department of History, specializing in archiving and re-telling queer histories in Canada with research interests that include trans identities, mutual aid, and sex cultures.
“I came to graduate school not knowing what I wanted,” they say. “I knew I wanted to keep doing history and go to grad school, so I started dabbling as a master's student in sexuality and gender studies.
“And then, somewhere along the way, I figured out I was trans. And I thought I’d like to learn about the history of my people, so to speak — to think of trans people of the past as some form of ancestor in the same way that someone might think about their own cultural heritage.”
Beginning with the 1960s, Colavito looks at how people came to identify as trans men, and how they helped one another find the resources needed to move forward with medical transition.
“How did these guys connect with each other and build a subculture while doing the groundwork to help each other find what they needed to keep living their lives, or to start living their lives as men?” they ask.
One challenge — there’s not a lot of written materials when it comes to the history of trans masculine or trans men.
“In any archival process, when you're looking for marginalized voices, there's going to be less written documentation,” says Colavito. As a result, much of their research was, and will be, based on in-person interviews. And that suits Colavito just fine.
Pride is still about liberation. The way we think and talk about Pride has deviated from its more radical roots. So when I think about Pride, I think about radicalism. I think about what liberation really is, and what it really means.
“A lot of historians like being in a dark basement looking at things alone,” they say. “I like talking to people, especially those who lived a life similar to mine many years ago, and who oftentimes paved the way for me to have the privileges that I have.
“Besides, what’s on paper is only a small part of the story. When you get a piece of paper in front of you, you don't know about the emotions or the anxieties around the context. So to get to speak to people is fantastic.”
Some of those interviews have included patrons involved in the last police raid of a queer bathhouse in Canadian history.
That took place September 15, 2000, when Toronto police raided an exclusive bathhouse event for queer women and trans folk, laying several charges against the organizers, accusing them of violating liquor laws.
Today, Colavito is part of the Pussy Palace Oral History Project, collecting interviews with community members who can speak directly to the history of the Palace events, the raid, and its emotional, legal and political aftermath.
Inspired by this project, Colavito has since created a blog series called Traversing Temporalities that features a collection of critical reflections by Colavito and other authors on queer and trans events and oral histories.
Throughout Colavito’s research, what has struck them most is the presence of genuine care.
“It's really interesting to see how these guys go out of their way to help other guys find the information they need,” they say. “They're also sharing poetry and narratives they've written. They're sharing about their relationships and families because these are people who didn’t have solid connections to other trans people, at least at the beginning. So they're sharing everything you would share with someone that feels the same way.”
Colavito’s love of speaking and engaging extends to the classroom where they recently won a 2022 Teaching Assistants’ Training Program’s (TATP) Teaching Excellence Award.
“I go to class just as, if not more, curious than my students,” they say. “I want to know what they think, what connections they're making, and I think the way people tend to make sense of history isn't always fun, like trying to remember what president did what on a certain date.”
To make history more alive, Colavito brings culturally significant objects into class. For example, they used a Barbie doll to start a conversation about gender roles after World War Two.
“Barbie was modeled after a German sex doll and hit the market in the 1950s,” they say. “You played with Barbie, so it's important, right? Finding ways to make history important and relevant is something I do a lot.”
Paired with this interesting content are practical and valuable lessons in how to tackle class assignments.
“I'm not just thinking about course content, I'm thinking about how to train the students to do the assignments well, or at least do better than what they’ve done,” they say.
“So I try to make my tutorials a space for learning something useful, instead of just talking at them for an hour about something I know really well and saying, ‘Well, good luck.’”
No doubt Colavito’s classes will include plenty of discussions surrounding Pride Month, emphasizing the enormous efforts and sacrifices made by past generations.
“Often those people lived and died in precarious circumstances, and they never got their flowers, and in some contexts, they're still not getting their flowers,” they say.
“Pride is still about liberation. The way we think and talk about Pride has deviated from its more radical roots. So when I think about Pride, I think about radicalism. I think about what liberation really is, and what it really means.”
Read More
Read a blog post about oral historian Elio Colavito’s joining the Pussy Palace Oral History Project, a SSHRC-funded collaboration with The ArQuives: Canada’s LGBTQ2+ Archives and the LGBTQ History Digital Collaboratory. The organizational leads of the collaboratory are Elspeth H. Brown, a professor of history and associate vice-principal, research at U of T Mississauga, and research manager, Alisha Stranges, a queer, community-based, public humanities scholar, theatre creator and performer.