All We Knew But Couldn't Say

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All We Knew But Couldn't Say Page 22

by Joanne Vannicola


  I would still be rendered non-existent on the pages of screenplays. Things are slowly changing, however, with increased awareness of LGBTQ2+ people in the culture, but it is still primarily a white, heterosexual domain, controlled by powerful men. I understood that I needed to write my way out of my life, and in many ways, the writing saved me. Writing a book became the goal, and I would not let that slip away, because I understood it was far bigger than me.

  I needed the silence. The page and pen became my friends, my confidantes, my soft place. It would be the one place where my thoughts, voice, politics, ideology, and identity could exist freely.

  I believe that I will be okay. I believe that using my life for the purpose of helping others matters. That creating space and being okay within my own skin matter — being authentic and vocal, emotional and present, trying new things, and even if I fail, getting up to try again. And if I am lucky, I will learn many lessons and rise to as many occasions as present themselves. What exists in me now is the belief that I can make a difference, that my story and life experiences have value. I have much more to do in the world. Art, writing, poetry, music, film, and self-expression matter.

  In my deepest place, I go to gratitude and love. It’s love and hope that keep me motivated, the idea that there is so much more out there. And there are so many young people who have it right, like the Parkland students and young feminists and intersectional queer kids who are ahead of my generation culturally and politically, who are invested in the equity of race and gender, of embracing our differences, and of helping the planet and changing the world. So many beautiful souls.

  It is impossible to continue without mentioning the Me Too movement and the women who are bringing awareness to sexual violence and rape. Brave women such as Anita Hill and Dr. Christine Blasey Ford, and, in Canada, women like Lucy DeCoutere — warriors who stand up in the face of hatred and fear and speak out regardless.

  Historically, there has always been backlash against women who stand up and against any movement that threatens the power of those who hold it, that tries to right the wrongs of oppression: misogyny, racism, homophobia.

  We will win these battles one day. We need to believe that.

  As writer and civil rights activist Audre Lorde said, “Revolution is not a one-time event.”

  A century of feminist work preceded the Me Too movement, through the work of civil rights activists and other brave individuals who fought for freedom and equity. I am inspired by the activism of the founder of the Me Too movement, Tarana Burke, and Heather Heyer, the young woman who was killed in Charlottesville while protesting against neo-Nazis. I am inspired by ancestors and elders such as Harvey Milk; Edie Windsor; Alice Miller; Audre Lorde; Gloria Steinem; Maya Angelou; June Callwood; Martin Luther King Jr.; Stormé DeLarverie, Marsha P. Johnson, and all the Stonewall rioters of the 1960s; Oprah Winfrey; and Ruth Bader Ginsburg. And of people in my industry, current trailblazers that include Jill Soloway, Ellen DeGeneres, Ellen Page, and Lena Waithe. And I am inspired to continue the fight by the many LGBTQ2+ people who were taken from us too soon: Matthew Shepard, Brandon Teena, the victims at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, and countless others. And by the dedicated people who contribute to the cause of equality through activism, by speaking up and engaging others in the conversation, by creating art and literature and film that reflects the world we live in. And to those who live in extreme danger in countries where it is a crime to be gay, I thank them for their bravery.

  My friend Steffin died before he had a chance to read this book, but I knew he was with me throughout the process. He would be proud. He would flip his long hair and drink too much and dance with me if he were here. I cherish what was, cradle those moments shared, now a part of me, his story part of mine.

  I couldn’t do anything as a child to change my circumstances, but I am able to speak now, to write about it and share my experience. I am finally able to find all the words I wasn’t able to then. This is my truth. And I hope it serves to help others.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I WANT TO FIRST THANK my extraordinary friend and supporter, writer Diane Terrana. I am deeply grateful for your years of support through my writing life. Thank you also to my literary agent, Sam Hiyate at the Rights Factory, who gave my memoir a chance. I can’t thank you enough.

  Thanks to my publisher, Dundurn Press, and specifically to editorial director Kathryn Lane, my amazing and gracious developmental editor Allison Hirst, gracious project editor Elena Radic, copy editor Susan Fitzgerald, proofreader Dawn Hunter, publicists Tabassum Siddiqui and Michelle Melski, marketing associate Kathryn Bassett, artistic director Laura Boyle, and designer David Drummond. Special thanks go to acquisitions editor and publisher Scott Fraser for selecting my memoir and believing in it. It meant the world to me.

  Thank you to friends and teachers and to everyone who agreed to read early drafts and provided feedback and endorsements.

  I am forever grateful to my mentor from the Diaspora Dialogues Mentoring Program, David Layton, who gave me many months of his time and heart. I am also forever grateful to lifelong friend Sharon Simone, Susie Vannicola, Dino Vannicola, Sharon Corder, Jack Blum, Holly Dale, Tanya Cinelli, Kate McKenzie, Joanna Holt, Christine Barker, Wendy Crewson, Aaron Martin, Patti McGillicuddy, Roland Emmerich, Denys Arcand, Helen Shaver, Hazel McGuiness, Anne Meara, Cynthia Dale, Marc Glassman, Colin Mochrie, Linda Riley, Farzana Doctor, Maggie Cassella, and Lorraine Segato for their support. Thanks also to Theresa Tova for being an ally. I would also like to thank the Diaspora Dialogues Charitable Society, Lit Up, the Ontario Arts Council, the Creative Writing Certificate Program at the University of Toronto, Pennant Media Group, and Sarah Kate Ellis of GLAAD. Much appreciation also goes to my manager, Gayle Abrams, for her support. Thanks to Deena, Nora, Jennifer, Kathy, Abby, Michele, Barbara, David, Richard, Pat, Wendy, Codi, Pheonix, Billy, Baby, and Laura for all the love and support along the path, from small acts of kindness to years of connection — it all mattered.

  Thanks to all the women of Me Too and Time’s Up and all the warriors who champion the intersectional rights of children, women, and queers. And to all LGBTQ2+ pioneers who came before me, who gave their lives and their love in the hope of making the world a better place, thank you, thank you, thank you.

  Many names and dates in All We Knew But Couldn’t Say have been changed. This book represents my account of what happened. Memories are individual, and we all process things differently in our minds and our hearts. This is a book about my experiences and is not meant to reflect the memories of others. With respect and love.

  Book Credits

  Acquiring Editor: Scott Fraser

  Developmental Editor: Allison Hirst

  Project Editor: Elena Radic

  Copy Editor: Susan Fitzgerald

  Proofreader: Dawn Hunter

  Cover Designer: David Drummond

  Interior Designer: Laura Boyle

 

 

 


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