The velvet thread: Weaving queer stories & perspectives (July 2025)
- Jul 1, 2025
- 5 min read
The night of the federal election, I was refreshing my phone like it was a heartbeat monitor. Group chats buzzed with cautiously optimistic updates, and queer folks across the country were locked into that familiar state of nervous watching. Then, slowly, relief.
The Conservative Party didn’t win. We dodged something brutal.
But relief is not the same as safety.
Because the Conservative campaign wasn’t just playing to economic anxieties or fiscal responsibility. It was a targeted cultural offensive — and the bullseye was on queer and trans lives. Their “anti-woke” crusade wasn’t about resisting some fringe ideology. It was a calculated platform to silence, dismantle and erase us.
And here in British Columbia, we’ve seen first-hand how that strategy is already playing out, regardless of who’s in power.
The sanitized language of hate
“Anti-woke” sounds vague enough to sell in the suburbs. It’s been crafted that way by consultants and culture warriors who know that saying “we’re against trans kids” wouldn’t fly in a press release. So instead, they wrap it in terms like “parental rights,” “freedom of speech” and “common sense.”
The reality? It’s a weaponized ideology, targeting queer educators, trans youth, drag performers and anyone pushing for inclusion and equity. It means attacks on 2SLGBTQIA+ content and safe spaces in schools. It undermines and cancels gender-affirming health care. It means cuts to diversity-focused academic research. And it means silencing initiatives promoting diversity, equity and inclusion – DEI – in public institutions.
This is not just a fringe movement. It’s a coordinated push to remove queer and trans people from public life. And while Pierre Poilievre’s Conservatives didn’t manage to form a government, their message is being carried forward by local politicians and platforms emboldened by the made-in-the-USA political rhetoric.
This is Christian nationalist ideology. At its heart is a desire to impose a rigid, theocratic moral order — one where diversity, bodily autonomy and queer identity are not just unwelcome, but incompatible. The queer community, with its celebration of chosen families, gender fluidity and sexual freedom, represents a direct challenge to the patriarchal, binary worldview Christian nationalists want to reassert.
Their push to erase us isn’t about faith — it’s about control. By eradicating queer visibility and silencing dissent, they seek to reshape Canada’s public life into something more narrow, more obedient and more exclusionary. The rhetoric of “returning to Judeo-Christian values” is not nostalgic — it’s strategic. It’s the glove over the iron fist of authoritarianism. And we cannot afford to ignore the threat.
Right-wing politicians have latched onto this as a wedge issue in an attempt to consolidate power.
A B.C. flashpoint: Heather Maahs brings hate to the legislature
On April 29, B.C. Conservative MLA Heather Maahs invited the group Association for Reformed Political Action (ARPA) to the provincial legislature. ARPA is a Christian advocacy organization that openly opposes SOGI 123 (a set of resources to help schools create safe learning environments for students, regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity), gender-affirming care and the legal recognition of trans identities. Mike Schouten, ARPA’s executive director, said at the event that “Canada was founded on ‘Judeo-Christian principles’ but that the country has got (sic) away from those principles in recent years.”
Maahs not only offered them legitimacy by inviting them into the people’s house — she stood with them in a press conference and echoed their opposition to what she called “radical gender ideology.” She has previously spoken against inclusive education, framing it as a threat to parents’ rights. Let’s be clear: what she’s opposing is the idea that queer and trans youth deserve safety, affirmation and truth in their schools.
Tara Armstrong and the weaponization of womanhood
The Conservative wave isn’t the only danger. B.C. independent MLA Tara Armstrong (originally elected as a member of the B.C. Conservatives) recently used her time in the legislature to deliver a rant asking the rhetorical question, “What is a woman?” — a known dog whistle used to invalidate trans women and advance trans-exclusionary narratives.
In her speech, Armstrong falsely claimed that women’s rights are being eroded by “gender ideology,” parroting the same disinformation spread by groups that oppose trans inclusion. She followed up by doubling down on her social media channels, where she has shared posts questioning the legitimacy of trans identities and amplifying voices that oppose gender-affirming health care for minors.
This isn’t a policy debate. It’s a dangerous dehumanization of trans people, especially trans women and girls. When elected officials frame our lives as threats or “ideological experiments,” it provides cover for the escalating harassment we’re seeing across the province.
The consequences are real
It’s not theoretical. These narratives have a direct impact. The results are felt in policy debates and public safety, but they’re also felt emotionally. In the fear that parents of trans kids carry. In the mental health toll exacted on trans youth. In the cancellations of community events due to security concerns.
This is not abstract. It’s already happening. A protester emailed city officials and sponsors of the Trans Day of Visibility event being held in Kelowna on March 31, asking sponsors, “Is sponsoring events that promote and encourage double mastectomies on 15-year-old girls in line with your values? If not, you should do the right thing and revoke your sponsorship of this event.” He also called on the city to ban the organizers from holding events on city property.
The velvet thread: What holds us together
Here’s the truth: we survived this election because some political parties stood up to defend us. And we survived because of each other.
We saw bold organizing — like Queer Momentum’s “Drag the Vote” campaign, which used drag artists, public events and eye-catching billboards to engage queer people across the country in civic participation. From urban centres to rural communities, Drag the Vote turned glitter and glamour into voter turnout — and showed what it means to make queerness political on purpose.
That’s the velvet thread — resilience, connection and defiance wrapped in boldness. It’s what holds us together when the system refuses to.
Visibility is power — Now let’s use it
We came terrifyingly close. On election night, we weren’t just watching the polls — we were watching the edge of a cliff. The Conservatives nearly took power with a campaign that openly targeted queer and trans lives. Let’s not pretend it was a landslide of support that saved us. We dodged a bullet, not by luck, but because our communities showed up and fought back. But relief is not a strategy. And survival is not a long-term plan.
We deserve more than safety. We deserve joy. We deserve investment, representation and real power.
Now is the moment to move from defence to offence. We won’t whisper our existence — we’ll demand to be heard. We must hold this government accountable: to resource queer and trans communities, to enforce human rights protections and to give teeth to the work of Women and Gender Equality Canada.
Wilbur Turner (he/him) is a Kelowna-based writer, queer community advocate and founder of Advocacy Canada.
