VANCOUVER QUEER HISTORY SPEAKER GLENN TKACH
THE STORYTELLER BEHIND THE PINK HAT
You might know me as the founder of the Really Gay History Tour, or simply as "the guy in the pink hat" walking the streets of Vancouver’s West End. Since 2017, I’ve been a Forbidden Vancouver storyteller, uncovering the hidden, the scandalous, and the profound.
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But under The Pink Hat is a mission that goes beyond the tour. I am a Vancouver queer historian and storyteller dedicated to bridging the gap between the past and the present, to help us find our way to the future.
As a queer kid growing up in a small prairie town in the 80’s, my identity was deeply hidden. But in my teen years, I discovered acting. The theatre was a safe space for me to express my desperation, rage, and confusion. When I was acting, it felt like the one time I wasn't pretending. By the time I came here to Vancouver, to study acting professionally, I found that it was no longer working for me. At a time when I was constantly pretending to be someone else, what I really craved was to just be me - the most honest and authentic version of myself. Which is why my favourite role was always the narrator - the one person who could stand in front of others and just be.
That's what led me to put acting aside and become a storyteller.
When an actor performs a story in front of an audience, they become spectators. But with storytelling, something different happens. Listeners can't see it play out in front of their eyes, so they must use their own imaginations. They become co-creators, and participants. It becomes more personal.
As I delved into the craft of storytelling, I found people were willing collaborators. As I narrated, audiences became completely immersed in stories they visualized for themselves. Storytelling was like magic. Without the aid of props, sets, or costumes, I could conjure entire worlds, rich and intricate, using only words and gestures.
In my research, I am dispassionate. I follow the evidence wherever it leads, with an eye for nuance and context. As a storyteller, I am not dispassionate at all. I work to reanimate what I have recovered, using humour, suspense, surprise, and other tricks of my trade. I bring queer history to life, engaging listeners on a visceral level. I weave between the academic and artistic.
THE STORY OF THE PINK HAT
When I first joined Forbidden Vancouver Walking Tours, I found myself immersed in a world of hats. From trilbies to flat caps, from boaters to bretons to bowlers, Forbidden Vancouver storytellers can always be seen in period-appropriate headwear. Like a crown creates a king, a well-chosen hat can crown a storyteller. It can summon an entire era of history.
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But queer history is not confined to one era. When I began creating The Really Gay History Tour, it was obvious that I didn’t need a period costume. I needed something different.
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Then, I saw it. In the dollar store. A cheap plastic fedora. It’s shape conveyed a sense of history - like it was a piece of the past. But this one was pink. It was a break with custom, and a strong break with gender norms. It feminized the masculine.
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But there was something more about it. Something that reminded me of the work I was doing. When I dig through old records and find surprising queer undertones, those beige and grey documents suddenly seem very colourful.
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A pink fedora is like a historical artifact that’s had the queerness brought to the surface. It’s a symbol of queering the historical record.
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That hat cost me a buck or two, and it didn’t fit very well. It may have been a tacky piece of dollar store garbage, but it was a start. Today, I wear a beautiful, bespoke piece of handmade craftsmanship. It’s one of a kind. That hat tells a story. It’s come a long way.
A pink hat might be fun and flamboyant. But as a queer historian, I am keenly aware of the colour’s horrific history. In Nazi Germany, an inverted pink triangle was used to mark gay men and misgendered trans women in concentration camps. It was a designation of shame, and singled people out for particularly cruel treatment.
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During the gay liberation movement, queer people began wearing pink triangles as badges. It was an act of somber remembrance. But it was also a sign of protest, denouncing the cruelty it symbolized. What started as a mark of shame was becoming a symbol of Pride. The pink triangle was being reclaimed.
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The crown of my hat is a pink triangle in three dimensions. I wear it to tell our story. It’s a story I tell again and again in my seminars: the story of a people who cannot be erased. And who have an incredible knack for turning the tools of our oppression into the weapons of our resistance.
A DEEPER MEANING
DECOLONIZING MY WORK
I strive to centre two-spirit and indigenous narratives, by inviting elders and community members directly into my work. I have worked and consulted with two-spirit leaders from the local community. I rely upon their guidance, critique and direct participation.
This affects how I integrate land acknowledgements, contextualize two-spirit people, or explicitly share two-spirit stories.
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I am grateful for their guidance.
MARGINALIZED VOICES
My work stretches across the 2SLGBTQ+ spectrum, and represents a range of religious, racialized, economic, and gender experiences. I tell diverse stories. But they’re not always easy to find. So I prioritize locating fragments that represent the most sidelined members of our community.
By bringing intersectional histories to light, I tell stories as complex and diverse as the community the represent.