Tales of Gender Affirmation - MTL Event Series
I grew up in a small Catholic town in rural Quebec. Being non-binary and neurodivergent, I tried to make myself invisible against the background of farmers and amongst my peers. But, no matter how hard I tried, I stuck out like a sore thumb.
It was in that town that I saw standup comedy for the first time. A couple of comedians performed in a little venue with no windows, an open cooler as a bar, and two dozen folding chairs. I was fourteen and uncomfortable in my own skin. I don’t remember much of the show, except a joke or two about cows, a sprinkle of questionable sketch comedy skits, and that familiar feeling of not being safe. There was something sour to me about the laughs, the place, and people in the crowd. Fourteen year old me covered my chest and cowered in my seat, afraid that someone would see through my cis-woman cosplay. I was the butt of their jokes and I didn’t feel safe being so. I stayed away from comedy for a long time after that.
Now, in Montreal, I have access to events hosted by queer individuals that welcome me as I am and actively work to keep me safe. Events like Tales of Gender Affirmation are a necessity for people in the queer community, and exist as a benchmark other events should strive to reach.
Tales of Gender Affirmation is produced by Alo Azimov and was featured in Montreal’s first (annual?) GIGGLEFEST. This on-going comedy event about gender identity invites those who are trans, non-binary, gender non-conforming, and a couple of LGBTQIA+ allies to perform. With that simple concept, the show has managed to attract a diverse audience and continues to strive to improve accessibility. As Alo pointed out, this is very intentional and part of what the show is all about -- social intersectionality and making people feel like, well, people! These events aren’t for spotlighting or tokenizing performers for their identity, they exist to give space and opportunity to everyone. Here anyone can get a foot in the door and be welcomed with open arms by a supportive audience.
Alo brings up the idea that being out in today’s political climate is… so much. This is one of those events intended to be a space where you could be your full self on, and off, stage. Too often queer comedians (along with many other performance types) find themselves on a stage having to explain who they are, in order to justify their art. Having a place where they can do their thing, tell their jokes, make others laugh, AND feel safe to go to the bathroom, and take up space without being bullied for it, that’s important. Tales of Gender Affirmation is a real queer oasis. Not only for performers, but for audiences, as well.
The event was hosted by Alo Azimov and Itzel Daniela, who worked hard to make that happen. They welcomed on stage Ray Resvivk, Rose-Ingrid Benjamin, May Jack-Monroe, Eman Belanger, Sloan Kooshan, Becca Redden, and Ké, all of whom were fantastically talented. They were all received in a room filled to the brim with love and support from GIGGLEFEST and other queer events, an incredible turnout considering the recent ice storm had caused the venue and time to change at the last moment. I was lucky to squeeze in a seat at a table of four with three other strangers, one of which ended up being a performer who managed to make me cry-laugh (thank you Sloan Kooshan!).
After the show, I sat down at a booth with the wonderful co-hosts. Alo formally introduced Itzel Daniela as an incredibly talented musician and diamond on stage. Itzel took over and spoke kindly about the creation of the show, describing it as an incredible opportunity to try something new, and to take up space in that unfamiliarity. Anyone that was present would agree that she was a natural. I look forward to hearing her perform at future events. Alo mentioned that Itzel was critical to making this magic happen. Though she tried to be humble about her involvement, Alo wasn’t having it at all. What followed was a beautiful showering of compliments between co-hosts. Itzel had been present in the creation of this show and was a phenomenal host. Alo Azimov is no joke, either. They had managed to make this event a home for many performers, a caring place to start.
I learned that Tales of Gender Affirmation started on July 18th, 2021, with the first installment at The Diving Bell Social Club. Thirteen shows, and nearly two and a half years later, I listen to the creators discuss other comedy clubs, and the lack of spaces for people who are femme, or queer, presenting. They comment on a lack of visibility in the lineups too. I’m told this was due to the fact that in order to feel safe, comics would sometimes need to hide their gender identity.
I thought about the political landscape, and I felt lucky that my own gender nonconformity doesn’t oppress me unless I speak it into existence. When I feel it’s unsafe for me to be openly non-binary, I don’t share that part of me. It’s what keeps me feeling safe and as much as it sucks, it’s a privilege in itself. Hearing about the creation of this event after experiencing it first-hand, I was reminded how grounding it felt being welcomed somewhere, allowed to laugh loudly at jokes about my queerness and feel safe to exist as I am. This comedy event was born to promote visibility, give opportunity, and assert the presence of the trans community in Montreal. At one point in the show, I remember Alo Azimov warmly asking us, “Was that too real?”. The hosts, the event itself, and everyone’s earnest support, and willingness to have a good time was as real as it gets. There was nothing "too much" about it at all.
Before parting ways for the night, Alo told me they hoped I would find this feeling at other community events as well. I’m fortunate enough to have found, around the community, some queer gems in Montreal that welcome me as I am. Tales of Gender Affirmation sits at the top of that list. I hope one day I’ll be able to create something as authentic as this.
Thank you, Alo.
For more information on Tales of Gender Affirmation, as well as other shows produced by Alo, check out Facebook.