Pride March
In 1985, if you were gay life was very different there was Pride March. In 1985. Few people were out publicly, at work or in their local town or city. There was no legal protection at work. There were very few role models, teachers weren’t out, there was harassment and bullying, people were attacked, even hospitalised because of their sexuality.
But that year was the year a brave handful of people put on the first gay Pride march in Wales. Recollection of the number who took part varies; some say around 30, others more like 100 – somewhere in the middle is probably right. But safe to say, it was nowhere near the size of today’s Pride marches. What is striking from the pictures of event is the number of police who accompanied the marchers.
One of those on the march that day was Francis Brown, now 63. He had started university in 1984 and says the first thing he wanted to do was join “GaySoc”. “I was really excited to be out and proud and I could do what I wanted without too much worry,” he said. “There were four people who turned up,” he said. One was Tim Foskett, a fresher, from a campaigning family. “He wanted to change the world,” said Francis.
Tim ensured that more people attended their meetings, including allies, and membership grew to around 40. At a meeting in the spring, Tim announced he thought there should be a Pride march. “Most of us thought ‘what the hell are you talking about’.”
They got permission from the council and police and planned the event for July 1985. Francis’ role beforehand tried to drum up support but many of those who were out in the community didn’t feel they could attend. They were, he explained, bank managers, teachers, police officers.
Those who did attend met on a Thursday at the Students’ Union carrying banners, including one reading “gay love is sweet love” and another “Lesbians Ignite.” Francis recalls feeling anxious, partly over turnout, and some of those attending were worried about their jobs or violence. “We were actually quite vulnerable,” he said.
The initial atmosphere was, he remembers, “jovial” and chants included “we’re here, queer and we’re not going shopping”. As they reached Queen Street, it was busy and they went a little quieter. “I did get a reaction, it wasn’t too vile but there was some. But it wasn’t like these days with people clapping”.
His friend Jeff Hocking was then working at Fosters Menswear on Queen Street, and he came out of the shop to cheer them on. “It was packed and all the main shops were on Queen Street. The march was dwarfed in comparison to the people present in the street,” said Jeff. “The atmosphere was palpable.” Knowing almost everyone on the march, he was worried watching. Unlike those marching in the Pride MarchIn 1985, if you were gay life was very different. Few people were out publicly, at work or in their local town or city. There was no legal protection , he was there to see the reaction during and after the march passed. “I was seeing people’s reactions, and I was worried for them because it just takes one to start some problems but it was ok actually,” he said, admitting he was surprised how well it went.
(Image: Mirrorpix)
They weren’t walking slowly. They didn’t feel able to, their nervousness causing them to speed up. In fact when they took part in Pride Cymru ten years ago, they set off at such a pace they had to be told to slow down and enjoy it.
In 1986, the numbers who joined the Welsh march doubled; in 1987 there were 500 people. One of the biggest Francis took part in, opposing section 28, a UK law that prohibited local authorities from promoting homosexuality, saw 4,000 people involved.
“The gay Pride march in 1985 was just one small part of a journey that subsequently thousands would play a part in. For me it demonstrates when people take a stand, you can make a difference slowly, but surely,” said Francis.
Francis and Hocking had both moved, independently, to Cardiff in the early 1980s and became friends, and the city became their home. “Cardiff in those days was a capital city, but it wasn’t, it was like a little village really,” Francis said. They both remember nights in the Kings Cross pub, where word of mouth spread that it was a gay-friendly venue. “There was no rainbow outside,” said Jeff. “I had no experience of the gay scene, and it was all new to me,” he said. “There was a little gang of us. If you wanted to socialise there was only one place to go.”
Jeff explained: “You had to be quite brave to even go. I remember my very first time going, I was really nervous because I didn’t know what to expect because the windows were obscured. So you didn’t know what was inside until you actually went in and when I went and I did go I was with someone who took me from Cardiff Friend, and it was heaving. The relief of just getting in there.”
Francis said: “It was a secret world and it was a safe space. What I loved about it, which I don’t think you get these days, is it was a melting pot. There were people from 16 to probably to 80 – black, white, male, female, and you were there because it was a safe place to go as an LGBTQ community.
“Coming out was a very difficult thing to do then, to your family and work. Coming out of a pub where you’ve been safe to hold a placard and say ‘I am gay’ was quite a brave thing to do in hindsight,” he said.
Jeff said you would consider how you’d get home. “At night time, you’d be discreet. The club actually gave people keys so you get in and out. It was generally known that you’d look around to see you weren’t being followed before you put the key in the door. They didn’t like it if you drew attention to it.
“People would put their coats and mufflers on and look, listen and extremely careful,” said Jeff. “But to meet people who would want to meet other gay people, there weren’t many other options. It was either the gay bars, cruising or cottaging or an advert in the Gay Times. But that was it,” said Francis.
Jeff said even buying the paper was difficult and something people would worry about doing. “To buy it was really difficult and you’d scour every bit of it for any small mention of Cardiff.”
40 years on, they were both present at a recent Pride Cymru event to launch LGBT+ history month in the Senedd ahead of the start of the month on February 1. It included seeing pupils from the Digon group from Ysgol Plasmawr in Cardiff speaking about their take on equality in 2025. “It makes me so proud, I’m just smiling from ear to ear. It was amazing, how brave and fabulous they are,” said Jeff.
Francis says: “Any kid who had come out at school 40 years ago would have had lots of trouble, and would have been beaten up and teachers wouldn’t have been supportive. Now it’s flipped. Those kids today would be the ones getting it, because the tide has turned but you only have to look at what Trump is doing in America, and what Farage may want to do here [the Senedd] next year, and they’re in cahoots with Trump so who knows. It can go backwards.”
Asked if they feel proud of their part in history, Jeff said: “I didn’t really feel proud then, I didn’t really know what Pride was. But I do now, today, listening to them [the schoolchildren], I felt like we’ve come on. It felt like we’ve come on, and I’ve never witnessed that before. It wasn’t possible.”
Francis said: “We had a difficult time growing up but I wanted to make things better for the kids growing up in the 1980s, so that if they came out to their families or at school it wouldn’t be such a big thing.
“Most people know someone gay now, at work or at school. Whereas 50 years ago you didn’t know gay people if you were straight. Now there are lots of role models, you can be gay and out without hopefully getting so much grief,” he said.
Asked if the current generation understand what those who went before them put on the line, Jeff said: “Sometimes, but they do take things for granted, but I think that’s a good thing.”
For them, seeing the size of Pride Cymru now is mind-blowing, but so is seeing the people lining the street cheering them on. “It has changed an awful lot,” said Francis. LGBT+ history month runs throughout February with events being held by Pride Cymru.
