ABSTRACT

In July 2003, I had the privilege of interviewing “Dorothy,” a 75-year-old self-proclaimed gay woman. During a nearly three-hour conversation about her life history and her perceptions of gay and lesbian life and history in Saskatoon, we had several fascinating exchanges about sexual behavior, culture, identity, life courses, politics, and class. Adamant that she was a “gay woman,” not a lesbian, Dorothy said the latter is a “harsh word” that “a lot of older women do not like,” adding that “we don’t like dyke” either, as it is “even harsher than lesbian.” 2 When I responded to her claim that dislike of these terms was a generational one by saying that, perhaps, it was a class thing, she retorted, “My father worked for the railway yard; we’re middle class.” I have written about Dorothy (born in 1928) before, describing her insights, her motorcycle trip to Edmonton with her first lover, her subsequent early marriage, and her position as the “original lesbian” involved in Saskatoon gay and lesbian activism. 3 In her interview, Dorothy gave a feisty, engaging performance for my benefit, while I, allergic to cats, struggled to breath as one of her longhaired cats sat happily perched beside me the entire time. On the audiotape, we both sound like raspy elderly ladies. While I shudder to think how, for the want of an inhaler, I failed to ask more follow-up questions (or at least to speak more audibly), this interview brought into sharp focus key challenges I faced in dealing with the oral histories I collected.