Opinion: First, Canal Street

Coming to Manchester with the intention of checking out the queer/feminist scene, I message one of the trans-guys I know in the Northwest. Though Liverpool-based, he agrees to come down and help me get a sense of things here.

We walk down Canal Street and I jot down his opinion on the bars and clubs we pass. There’s Queer, which is apparently ‘rough in the daytime,’ but a good generic gay club at night. A little on the gay male side, he says, but not exclusively or intentionally so. We pass Churchills and View before we reach REM; my friend whispers that REM is gay men only, and is quite strict on policing that. Later, people I speak to around the Canal confirm this, explaining that REM is a bear bar (among other things) with regular bear/cub nights. My curiosity is definitely spiked.

I’m in Manchester on this particular weekend because it’s International Women’s Day (8 March) and, in support of LGBT Youth North West and Manchester Rape Crisis, Eden Bar are holding ‘Our Voices,’ a K+C Productions (with the support of Sparkle Manchester) evening of poetry and comedy. Eden Bar turns out to be, unsurprisingly, a lesbian and women-friendly drinking venue; the organiser, Liz Anderson, explains, “The whole point of this is that when people think of Canal Street they think gay men, but actually it’s better and safer for women than you might think." Local poet/performers Rosie Garland and Steph Pike are among the best acts, though there’s quality scattered throughout the evening – with Christine Clarke and a talented young woman called Victoria Anne nearly lost in a racket of an ad-hoc ‘women’s band.’

My friend introduces me to another young woman named Hebe Phillips, who’s just helped set up a new Manchester Metropolitan University Fem-Liberation Society, with Chelsea Murphy (the Women’s Representative at MMU). “We’re trying to make an inclusive society while ensuring it’s a space where people can feel comfortable,” Murphy says.

A lot of the jokes and poetic asides reference this idea of Manchester as a bit of a queer safe haven. During her Eden set Garland intones, “I wasn’t lucky enough to grow up in Manchester. I was lucky enough to move here the minute I could.” At one point the event MC, Rod Tame, calls Canal Street “A land of hope and glory holes.”

The next day I run into Hebe again at the Joyce Layland LGBT Centre. She’s taking part in a women-only meeting so my friend waits outside patiently in the rain. I pop my head round the door, ask a couple of questions, and pick up a bunch of leaflets with names like, ‘The Weaker Sex? I Don’t Think So! A guide to self defence & combatting street harassment.’ Later on we run into the men’s group (“I hate this splitting along gender lines bullshit,” my friend mutters) at a lesbian art exhibition. That just seems to be the kind of community Manchester is – and although it’s clear I’m only seeing a small cross-section of what the city and the Northwest as a whole has to offer for the LGBTQ community, what I do see over the two days I spend here I find very encouraging, especially on the women’s front. I feel very much at home here. I get the impression Deviance will be too.