At first glance, you might think that a post about my membership (or wallet) cards over the decades is a bit ridiculous. And you may be right. However, I’m still going ahead with it. I recently discovered this stash of cards and I’m thrilled. So I’m now proudly displaying them for you to view – or not!
Some of you might remember that a few years ago I wrote a post that was all about the badges, buttons and pins that I’d hoarded over the decades. Then there was the post about the ticket stubs that I still have from the 1970s. So you can see that there is a pattern here – I have a habit of keeping my bits and pieces over the years. When I rediscover them, I’m filled with joy because I can use them to feed my lust for archiving, making lists and displaying my collections in posts like these!
Writing this post brought me to the realization that these cards are, in a way, allowing me to tell big parts of the story of my life – at least from the 1960s to the 1990s. It seems that once I returned to Canada in 1990 at the age of 40, my obsession for keeping membership cards ended. Or perhaps it’s more likely because the digital era was emerging and the need for wallet cards had lessened. The world was just handing out fewer of them.
I’ve arranged these cards chronologically and occasionally by theme within an era. Since some of you know me personally, you might want to just skip to when you first met me.
1962-1968: My High School Years
Below is the oldest card I have. It’s from Grade 8 in my Junior High School in suburban Toronto. I would have been 13 years old.
Apparently we needed a card to be allowed to go home for lunch which, for me, was only a 10 minute walk away.
Below is my library card for our local library where I hung out with friends while pretending to do homework. It’s also where I remember discreetly looking in the 306.766 section when I began struggling for stories about what direction I might be heading in. Some of you may recognize that that was the number in the Dewey Decimal System for Homosexuality. Needless to say, I didn’t find anything at all helpful.
I wonder if the Pro Drivers Club was just an Ontario thing. We went to special classes on Saturday mornings at a high school across town to learn how to drive with other 16 and 17 year olds. Despite this training, I failed the test for my driver’s license; humiliating because all my pals passed first time around. Luckily, I passed on my second try.
I will use this opportunity to show you my driving licences over the decades, the top left one being my first.
Getting the Bronze Medallion for life-saving was a goal I eventually attained. See below. Classes in the miserably cold water of our local pool had the upside of hot showers and chats afterwards with the other boys.
Each year we bussed to Stratford for a fun day away to see a play by Shakespeare at the Festival Theatre there. Some of you might argue that this belongs in “ticket stubs” not “membership cards” but it’s in the shape of a membership card so that’s where I’d stored it.
I have no memory of what I saw at either of the two theatre clubs below. But I do know that the O’Keefe Centre was Toronto’s newest, smartest and largest theatre in town at the time.
Freeman’s was where we all rented our tuxedos for the high school formals/proms.
I’ll take this opportunity to include these photos from the 1968 Formal in my rented tux! By the way, three of us here turned out to be gay. Can you guess which ones besides me?
My date for the Formal was Betty in orange below. Look at those elbow length gloves.
Below is my membership card to the UK-based Royal Overseas League. I joined it in the summer of 1967 to get cheaper fares on their charter flights to London from Toronto. My grandmother, Muriel Harkness, generously treated us to a visit to her there, which I talk about here. Apparently that League still exists.
Sometime during my high school years, I started donating my A+ blood regularly and continued to do so for many years until … you know what.
1968-1971: My Undergraduate Years
I attended Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario from 1968-1971, graduating with a General BA.
I spent my First Year in the Commerce (BComm) program. It was not to my liking – both the course content and the macho environment. I even remember being on the receiving end of bullying for having longer hair than the expected short back and sides.
As I was on my way to becoming a light hippie, I switched to the BA program for my second and third years where I was much happier. I even became a “Male Member-at-Large” on the Arts ’72 Executive!
Since I had played the tenor sax in my high school band, I joined the Queen’s Marching Band where I got to wear a kilt and march around the football field playing my sax at half-time.
My Queen’s Band outfit.
Travelling to Toronto, Montreal, Hamilton, Ottawa and Waterloo for away football games on weekends was a treat, as was singing “Oil Thigh” at the top of my lungs wearing our tams when the Golden Gaels scored a touchdown. Only Queen’s people will know what I’m talking about.
This conformity became less appealing as I became more hippy-ish – and gay-ish.
In my second year, I started doing voluntary youth work at a local United Church in Kingston. They had a Drop-in Centre for young teenagers and, given that I’d done some work like that in my Don Mills Donway United Church during high school, I repeated the experience there. I don’t think I did it for long, though. That may have been connected to the fact that, although I’d been a church goer during many of my teenage years, now that I was heading into my twenties and homoland, it didn’t speak to me anymore.
Summer Jobs
Because my father worked at Ontario Hydro, I was able to get relatively well paying summer jobs there. My Dad called it one of his employee benefits. Others might call it nepotism. One summer I was testing gloves to see if they were shockproof which involved dangerous high electrical currents! Luckily, for the next two summers, I was transferred to a safer office job – the Data Control department – which had AC and no danger. There I had my first introduction to information technology where I met huge IBM computers that filled entire rooms.
I even joined the union – my first one of many over the decades. I can’t remember if it was compulsory or I opted to join.
Summer 1971: Starting to Come Out
I talk about my Coming Out Summer and what led up to it in this set of posts here. But the only paper evidence I seem to have of those days is this wallet card from CHAT – the Community Homophile Association of Toronto that I picked up somewhere along the way. I didn’t realize until now that this pioneering group had only started up a few months earlier. I went to several of their dances – at the Holy Trinity Church in downtown Toronto – and had a blast. However, I don’t remember getting to any of their meetings or maybe I was too shy. But I do see that I wrote a date, time and place on this card so I maybe did get to something.
My diary also tells me that I got to a dance at Hart House on the University of Toronto campus organized by the UTHA (University of Toronto Homophile Association) which was the precursor to CHAT and Canada’s first university homophile/gay association.
I have no idea what or who “Detroit” is with that phone number below. Maybe a new friend.
Speaking of pickups, I had a few, one might say, in my first coming out summer. I was delighted to be able to desire and be desired. The downside, though, which I quickly learned, was that my flings led to the possibility of also picking up venereal diseases, as we used to call them – now STDs. Below are the cards from the two hospitals where I went for tests and treatments. Bad beginners luck, one might call it.
Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again, too few to mention…
1972-1973: Living in Sydney, Australia
I have written extensively about my life and loves in Sydney during this crucially important time of my life here. But the only “card” I seem to have from those days isn’t really even a wallet card at all unless you fold it as I did. It’s my one and only ever Motor Cycle Rider’s Licence which I used, I would guess, a total of three times. Nevertheless, I’m happy to have passed the test and to have had the experience.
Although I didn’t keep or have membership cards, I did, however, keep an extensive collection of ticket stubs from that era which I did talk about here.
1973-1990: My Many Years in London & Colchester
Being a Student, Union Member and Teacher
I arrived in London with longish hair and a beard to pursue my PGCE at the Institute of Education at the University of London. I tell those stories here.
When I got my first job as a Lecturer at Uxbridge Technical College, I joined the union – at the time called ATTI but the next year it had morphed into NATFHE which it remained, as such, for decades.
I proudly have all my NATFHE union membership cards from each year during the 1980s when I worked as a Lecturer at Paddington College in London.
Not only did I join my union but, at Uxbridge Tech in the 70s, I became a member of the Executive of my branch. As became my pattern for years, I was the minute-taker.
I was also appointed to be an Outer London delegate to two National Conferences; at one of which I made my big gay speech!
Below is my Rank and File card. That organization was the “radical leftie” wing of our union and I was a member – and minute-taker again.
As my teaching subjects were Sociology and Modern/Liberal/Social Studies, I belonged to the association that supported teachers in those roles: the Association for the Teaching of the Social Sciences. That association also played a very important role in supporting Liberal Education and in resisting the pushback to it by the Thatcherites who saw it as a big waste of time during the 80s. I talk about that struggle here.
Cards from 1975-1981 for the ATSS.
The Gay Teachers Group based in London had started just a few months before I joined it in the mid-1970s and it became a crucially important group for lesbian and gay teachers during that period. We felt supported by each other and it gave us more confidence as teachers in our schools – whether we came out or not.
When I taught in an army school in West Germany from 1978 to 1981, I belonged to this union. I talk about my not-so-happy experiences with that association here.
CHE: The Campaign for Homosexual Equality
Although I saw myself as a radical gay liberationist and trade unionist, I had no problem joining the reformist Campaign for Homosexual Equality (C.H.E.) throughout the 70s and beyond. While I was living in Colchester attending the University of Essex, I saw how important the organization was in smaller cities. As discussed here.
My first bank card below allowed us to get cash from a machine instead of having to line up to get money from a teller. We couldn’t believe it! And here is also my first credit card, allowing me to spend money I didn’t have. Slippery slope from then on.
Doing my MA in Sociology at the University of Essex: 78-79
Below are my student cards from my one year back at university to do my MA. The beard had gone. Maybe I had stopped being a radical hippie, if I ever was one. But I’ll tell you that the beard came back in the 80s.
While I was studying at Essex, I started using their Fitness Room – the first time that I pursued some physical activity since taking gym class in High School . Since I was working out on my own, I really didn’t have a clue what to do, but I guess I thought I should try and who knows whom I might meet there. I didn’t meet anyone. Fitness wasn’t such a “thing” back then.
I’ll take this opportunity to add another Fitness card here from the 1980s. At this Sports Centre near to my home in London, I began to take fitness more seriously and used their pool to swim lengths and Weight Room to lift weights for several years. Of course, chatting to the others while training and in the changing rooms helped me to keep motivated.
The Gay Clubs
Each of these gay clubs deserves much more attention than I can give to it here but any of you who lived in London during the 70s/80s will recognize most, if not all, of them.
On a sad note, below I recognize the initials (PB) on the back of this BOLTS card (below) as those of a friend who gave me a complimentary card for this BOLTS venue. He was Phillip Bakal (Pickle) who I will always remember not only because he a fun friend but also because he was the first person I knew to die of AIDS. That was in 1985 at the age of 26. BOLTS held a memorial service for him that I was at. I was devastated. But it was just the first of many memorial services to come.
I found this photo below of Pickle (Phillip) from the late 70s. He’s the only one looking at the camera. For London friends, you may recognize this as the sunning area outside of the Men’s Pond on Hampstead Heath.
Below is the one gay club card I have from out of London. It’s Norwich’s one and only gay club that I went to a few times with Fraz while living and studying in Essex.
London didn’t have any official gay saunas until the late 80s. If I remember correctly, this Health Spa was a sauna that straddled the before and after during that period. Oh my goodness. I just checked and it’s still there!
Film and Theatre Club Memberships
To my London friends: how many of the 13 theatre and film clubs below did you belong to? My guess is many if not all of them. I’ve put them in roughly chronological order.
London Gay Switchboard: 1982-1987
I was a volunteer listener at London Gay Switchboard (as it was called then) for these five years where my beard came and went. I learned so much from my experience there that I’ll write about another time. As Switchboard now, they are still in existence and just celebrated their 50th anniversary! What an achievement.
London Lesbian and Gay Centre (LLGC): 1986 – 1990
This centre, created and supported by the progressive Greater London Council (GLC), opened with a big splash in the mid-80s. Thatcher and the Conservatives eventually closed down the progressive GLC and that led eventually to the closure of “our” centre. You can read about all the drama of the LLGC here.
I loved hanging out there with its multitude of meeting spaces, dances and a cafe. It is also where I did volunteer counselling for the mental health charity PACE (Project for Advocacy, Counseling, and Education) just as it and I were starting in that field. PACE lasted much longer than the LLGC, but it did close in 2016, I learned.
Non-gay political organizations
You might remember that I annoyed some of my colleagues when I was teaching in that Army School in West Germany by joining CND but I remained a member throughout my time living n the UK.
I joined Amnesty International in 1990 and I’m still a member today.
Family Ties
My Blachford lineage comes from the county Hampshire area in England and my father, an avid genealogist, asked me to do some family research which I was happy to do. Here’s the card I needed to access information about our family in the Public Records Office.
In Conclusion….
As a result of writing this post, along with viewing and reviewing all these membership cards over the decades, I came up with these few random observations:
- Clearly, I’m a joiner. If there’s something I can belong to – and get a card to show for it – I’m there! It must be related to my tendencies towards extraversion and my delight in hanging out with others. All these interactions gave me energy. I loved being part of a group and I gained so much from those experiences.
- In a completely different vein, I also observed the evolution of graphic design over the decades with the use of different fonts, colours and styles on these cards. Obviously some cards had more thought put into them than others but it’s all quite impressive.
- Given how rare it is to see anyone’s handwriting these days, through these cards I could at least glimpse how my signature evolved over time. Or didn’t.
- In my Ontario elementary school, we were taught to “write” (as opposed to “print”) by using the scripts indicated on the board below. That took many hours of practice.
- When I moved to the UK, I learned that what we had called “writing” in Canada was called “joined-up” writing there. And its capital letters were just like the printed ones. See the example below.
- That meant that some of my writing, especially my capital F’s, G’s, J’s, Q’s and Y’s were not understandable to the Brits. Therefore I slowly adapted my writing with it becoming a hodgepodge of the two.
- BUT, interestingly, my signature did not change much over the decades as I continued to write the capital G (in Gregg) the old-fashioned way just to keep my Canadianism. And I still do that.
So, that’s it!
What do you think about my collection of membership cards? Ridiculous? Outrageous? Fabulous? Do they bring back any memories for you? Writing this post was, for me, a pleasure because, as I said earlier, I feel that the cards, in a way, tell a story of my teens to early forties.
À la prochaine!
P.S. Thanks to David Tacium and Bob Cant reviewing my post and catching all kinds of errors, along with providing me with helpful insights. Much appreciated.