Meeting Resistance

At a time when viral hashtags and influencer followings dominate public conversation, Tom Hooper (PhD ’16), professor in York University’s Department of Equity Studies, insists that real influence is measured differently. For Hooper, it’s found in the hard-fought history of queer activism: a legacy of resistance, dignity and rights that often goes unrecognized.

I want students to walk away realizing that their morality and ideas about identity have been shaped by a variety of forces

Hooper contends that the leaders behind these movements may never see online fame or big sponsorship deals, yet their efforts remain pivotal to Canada’s progress on human rights.

“Their struggles and triumphs,” he says, speaking from Toronto, “have shaped today’s most imperative movements.”

This conviction drew Hooper – who came to York for his PhD after completing his BA and MA at the University of Guelph – into the orbit of some of the University’s most influential mentors. Professor Emeritus Craig Heron introduced him to historians’ rigour in analyzing labour and activist movements; Professor Emerita Miriam Smith challenged him to dissect the complexities of Canadian queer politics and law.

“We never had to start from scratch,” Hooper says. “There were York courses from earlier generations for us to build upon and innovate. That huge foundation is rich material for me.”

For Hooper, York was “the perfect laboratory” – a place to move past easy celebration in queer history and insist that advocacy must precede applause. He used the University’s resources to critically reassess events such as Pride, arguing for a legacy that values resistance as much as recognition. As Pride exploded into annual national and global celebrations from the late 1970s and especially through the 1980s, he noticed the line between political act and festival had blurred, a shift he sees as risky for how queer history is remembered and understood.

“There’s a danger when corporate and political festival narratives overshadow essential advocacy,” Hooper warns.

If Pride’s story risks becoming sanitized, Hooper’s scholarship pushes in the opposite direction, toward the tumult and resistance that shaped the queer movement. His doctoral research began with a deep dive into the 1981 Toronto bathhouse raids, when police stormed several clubs catering to gay men and arrested nearly 300 people, charging them under laws that effectively criminalized their sexuality.

Tom’s work on the Right to Privacy Committee and queer resistance made him an obvious choice

The highly publicized arrests marked a critical turning point. Scenes of police violence galvanized a generation, provoking new questions about civil liberties, privacy and justice. In the Canadian Lesbian and Gay Archives, Hooper traced the overlooked work of the Right to Privacy Committee, a legal and political group that not only fought for those arrested, but also helped shape the trajectory of Canadian queer activism.

Hooper’s scholarship illuminates how communities responded: challenging myths (such as the supposed full decriminalization of homosexuality in 1969) and revealing how institutions – and official records – distort public memory.

Hooper brings the same purposefulness to his classroom. “I want students to walk away realizing that their morality and ideas about identity have been shaped by a variety of forces,” he says. “I want them to be critical of their world, to understand their place and their ability to change it.”

His influence as both scholar and educator has garnered the attention of leading voices in Canadian queer history. Tom Warner, author of Never Going Back: A History of Queer Activism in Canada, sees him as a next-generation chronicler, carrying forward the visibility and resistance Warner once pushed into the mainstream. “Hooper brings a liberation activist’s lens, making queer history engaging and accessible.”

Gary Kinsman, author of The Regulation of Desire, has repeatedly called on Hooper’s expertise, most notably inviting him to write the afterword to the book’s latest edition. “Tom’s work on the Right to Privacy Committee and queer resistance made him an obvious choice,” Kinsman says. The two have also collaborated on policy change, drawing connections between the bathhouse raids and ongoing struggles for justice.

That sense of connection runs through Hooper’s current research on Toronto’s Cabbagetown Group Softball League, founded in 1975, just before the AIDS crisis began to decimate its ranks. Though still an active organization, many of its original players lost their lives to HIV/AIDS. Working on the project since July, Hooper’s list of the deceased now includes 126 names.

“This research is deeply personal,” says Hooper, who joined the league in 2012 and continues to participate in games.

“It’s connected me to my community in ways I never anticipated.”  ■

— With a report from Deirdre Kelly