Today is my 30th birthday. As a child I never imagined myself making it so far but here I am, and I know that without community care and support I wouldn't be here. Up until this year, one of those communities was One Voice Chorus. For the past 6 years I have invested a significant amount of my love, energy, artistic career, and money maintaining a singing membership with One Voice Chorus, a 2SLGBTQIA+ all voice choir that rehearses out of the Unitarian Building every Monday night during the school year. It is hard to put into words the way singing with OVC has changed me as an artist and as a queer body-mind. I never could have predicted the end, I never wanted to. On August 8, 2018 I started dating an incredible being named Elliot Rae Cormier. That September, in an attempt to get to know them and their community better I decided to try out for OVC. I had no idea the impact joining that singing family would have on me. At that time the founding Artistic Director, Jane Perry, was heading the choir and I remember being extremely intimidated walking up to the piano for my audition. I had just dropped out of theatre college because of the ableism I faced from teachers and board members, and was terrified of being rejected again so soon. I handed her the sheet music I brought with me from my audition prep class, hoping it would be enough to be accepted. She looked at it and laughed saying "I'll do what I can" and then accompanied me while I sang Sondheim's "There Are Giants in the Sky". I made some mistakes, but if she made any I didn't notice. At the end we were both smiling and laughing together at how anxious I had been for absolutely no reason. I was placed in the tenor section and excitedly tried my best to impress and befriend my fellow section-mates, which I managed to accomplish before the winter concert. Soon I felt very at home every Monday. When I brought up an access need I was met with care and openness. As my access needs shifted and increased over the years they were met with support and understanding. It was the first choir I was part of where I wasn't the only out trans person, and where voices were divided by pitch and not gender (high and low voices, vs men and women’s voices), where lyrics were altered at the first request so non-binary people and queer relationships were highlighted and celebrated, and where standing was always optional. There were so many ways in which OVC was different from any choir that I had ever been part of and for that, I loved it. We were far from perfect but we focused on the heart and message behind our performances and our audiences rewarded us with love and appreciation. Even when my life outside of choir felt overwhelming and I was filled to the brim with grief, it seemed like there was always a choir member available to listen and support me. In time, I did the same for other singers as well. As I learned more about the choir's social nuances, and the conflicts that had caused members to leave in the past, I saw how Jane Perry handled conflict, and tried to learn from her. She was calm and patient, she actively listened and made sure to include the quietest voices in the room. Even when time was short, urgency was never prioritized and we were encouraged to learn from mistakes, and embrace curiosity and humour during the difficult times. She was not perfect, no one is, but she was firm in her convictions and worked hard to create a space where people flourished as artists. I remember thinking so many times how wonderful it was to meet a choir director who looked and joked like a previous choir director I had worked with, but acted with far more care and compassion. Spring 2020 changed a lot for OVC. Like everyone else we had to "pivot" and prioritize safety during the first waves of COVID. When Jane Perry stepped down from her role as Artistic Director after 10 years with the choir I was sad to see her leave and excited to see what would come next. I was grateful for the ways that the interim artistic director worked hard to keep us connected and singing together during that transition time. It was not an easy job but she did it well. The transition back into in-person singing was rough and full of heightened emotions and conflict, but the protocols that were put into place were higher than any other community group I was part of. I gratefully returned to in person rehearsals and happily followed the agreed upon protocols. The choir collectively voted in our new Artistic Director, Cass Dueck (they/she), in 2022 and I excitedly devoured the music choices they brought to her first term with the choir and the new ways they worked with us as a group. When the world decided to pretend COVID was over, once again deprioritizing the access needs of immunocompromised and disabled people, other choir members' masking protocols began to become more lax. Often air purifiers weren't turned on until I noticed and turned them on myself, their filters were late getting replaced, and COVID tests were no longer provided for members at rehearsal. For the first time, I began to have difficulty feeling welcome in the choir. At that point I was using mobility aids full-time, and there was a whole row of disabled singers, so I felt it important to speak up for our continued ability to participate in the choir safely. In the late summer of 2023 I attended my first OVC board meeting as a singing member. I was interested in stepping into the ombudsperson role for the next singing season but first I wanted to see how the current board worked together. One of the topics during that meeting was the revising of masking and covid policies for the coming singing season. I was given a chance to speak up for me and my fellow disabled choir members on why the masking policy currently in place was important for the safety of the entire choir. The response one board member gave made mockery of daily safety measures, which me and other immunocompromised choir members uphold in our own lives. They voiced eugenics beliefs that included the phrase that people who were dying from COVID and other diseases were "population control". These beliefs were supported in the moment by the current general manager while the rest of the board felt like a quiet audience to that attack. The current artistic director, who had stepped away from their computer while the eugenics beliefs were shared, was eating a snack and said nothing. The entire experience was isolating and enraging, and left me feeling deep grief for me and my fellow singers who were so disrespected. I decided that I was too biased to be an ombudsperson, as I was unwilling to advocate on behalf of people who wanted to push eugenics policies, but remained as a singing member and encouraged members who spoke up for the disabled community to take an active role in the board. The board member who said those things to me quietly left the choir but the masking policies were lowered anyway. This put the onus on the immunocompromised members of the choir to ask their section to continue wearing masks in order for them to be safe in rehearsal, even though their accessibility needs had not changed. On January 17, 2024 Jane Perry died and every single rehearsal after that became a time for me to remember her work, grieve her loss, and continue forward in her name. The last time I saw her in person was on October 15, 2023 while at Rae Spoons' outdoor concert with Elliot Rae. Her death was the 4th death in my found family, one of whom was also part of OVC for a time, all within 6 months. I still grieve every single one of them. On October 12, 2024 Elliot Rae and I got married. Pictures of Jane Perry and other dead or long distance friends and loved ones greeted folks arriving for the ceremony and Gavin Caldwell, a previous pianist for OVC, played beautifully in her stead. During the 2024/2025 singing season I became more vocal about the ableist systems I had to navigate, and the racist microagressions that I witnessed, including the deprioritization of promises OVC made around decolonization. I was an active member of the reconciliation committee, and I brought issues to the ombudsperson and board members in order to go through due process in addressing these harmful patterns. Ultimately I was told to pick a better hill to die on. The final concert I performed in with OVC was a show that featured a selection of folk music that I have described as a poor representation of the diversity of the genre. All of the music was written and arranged by white artists and the only women represented were Dolly Parton and Jane Perry. The final song of the show opened with the lyrics "no one's in doubt that the children singing/ All too soon shall be women and men". As a non-binary adult I felt excluded and upset that this would be the song we left our audience with. Another song that had been originally on the set list had been removed for its gendered and binary language and so with that line alone I felt it important to ask for lyric adjustments to be made. The song went on to share colonial and anti-indigenous messaging that was thinly veiled and maddening to witness. The song made me angry, it made my body feel dizzy and full of bees. Whenever we rehearsed it I could only think of the ways it spread colonisation ideology through heteronormative language and pro-war themes. I offered lyric adjustments that highlighted the messaging in the song in hopes of opening up discussion around the propaganda this song was spreading. I didn't expect my lyrics to be chosen, I hoped discussion would bring a collaborative moment for the choir to find a solution together like we had in previous seasons. Because Cass was recovering from giving birth to their first child for the end of the first term and first half of the second, I approached the ombudsperson and a board member about it. I didn't know how to properly communicate that desire while so angry and full of grief. I left those conversations frustrated. A few other choir members came up with different ideas to address the impact of this song and reached out to the ombudsperson as well. All of the suggestions brought forward by us were rejected. The song was left in the show completely unchanged and closed the show. The artistic director’s response to my concerns via the ombudsperson was full of racist micro-agressions and attempted to shame me for bringing up something deemed inconsequential. I reached out to a couple Indigenous friends and mentors for support and advice. In the end, I refused to sing the song, leaving early during rehearsals and the final performance in protest instead of something more disruptive. I tried to remain in rehearsal once after my request had been officially declined. I had been told to do what makes me most comfortable by the ombudsperson and so I wanted to see if I could sit through the song in silence. I could not. Because of how the rehearsal space was set up, my departure during rehearsal was disruptive due to the chair layout not being wide enough for my mobility aids to navigate freely and my rush to leave as rehearsal continued on. I left the final show alone and sat by myself outside the venue until the show was over and my loved ones joined me. During the last reconciliation meeting I attended on August 11, 2025 the board members in attendance made it clear that they were not prioritizing the decolonization promises and commitments OVC made while Jane Perry was still alive. Decisions the choir had agreed upon and this committee was created to support the work of. I expressed concern about that. I mentioned that I was planning on putting my name forward to join the board this season as I had been with the choir 6 years now and was finally feeling able to commit to the time and energy the difficult position requires. Later in the meeting other disabled singers and I brought up some of the barriers we had been facing during the previous singing season and tried to brainstorm possible solutions and accessibility accommodations that could help mitigate those barriers. OVC didn't have an accessibility committee, and so these topics were often brought up at meetings because disability justice is a key part of Land Back. I mentioned that the way Jane Perry had organized and communicated through solo auditions was unique and more accessible for me and other members. We all discussed how difficult it was to meet everyone's conflicting accessibility needs. One board member felt the need to remind me that it wasn't Jane Perry's choir anymore. I was shocked and hurt by that response and all I could say in the moment was that I was very aware of that fact. I was fairly quiet for the rest of the meeting and overcome by grief but did my best to remain kind and respectful. During my last season with OVC I was met with a lack of empathy and compassion from the ombudsperson, staff and most board members. My membership was terminated by the current board via email less than a week before this singing season started. I received the email 2 days after I spent pride weekend advertising the choir and sending friends to their booth for more information. They labeled me a bully and said my comments made people feel unsafe. In the termination email they mentioned song introductions; I never approached any individual introducing songs to speak with them about their introduction or made comments about their introductions. I did make comments about unprofessional actions, misgendering, and harm that I witnessed staff and board members cause. I willingly admitted when my emotions were affecting my responses, expressed gratitude to those that held space for them, and did my best to remove myself and regulate when I became overwhelmed or close to meltdown. At all times I tried my best to work towards community building and conflict resolution, even at the height of my grief and disregulation. The timing of this unexpected termination email stung all the more as it was 4 days after I learned that my mom's dad had died. OVC's first rehearsal back was the same day as my grandfather's funeral and I was unable to lean on my choir family. I sat alone at home grieving because house repairs had necessitated canceling the incredibly small gathering I had been planning instead. That afternoon as contract workers walked back and forth to the front yard, my husband held me while I openly wept in our backyard watching the funeral service over an online stream and I heard my blood family singing together for the first time in over a decade. It is a shame to see a group who claims to create a supportive environment for the 2SLGBTQIA+ community uphold eugenicist policies and refuse to address anti-Indigenous lyrics. It makes me sad to share these events with you now. It was heartbreaking, during my final season, to never know if I would be able to physically enter or easily navigate the rehearsal space with my mobility aids until I arrived at the building, or if sign up sheets would be up the stairs onstage rather than placed in an area where all members could easily access them. It was a shame to see fewer masks being worn every rehearsal, and to see the ways in which the immunocompromised members were isolated from the community because of this. It was maddening to witness the lack of care and support the board and staff showed to me and fellow immunocompromised singers. It took a follow-up email, sent almost a month later, before I received any response to my acknowledgement of the termination notice from any staff or board member of OVC. Their response didn't answer all of my direct questions or acknowledge my previous email. They only started removing pictures and videos of me that were up on their website and social media after my follow up email, even though I rescinded consent for their use as of September 4, 2025 at 11:29 p.m. As of October 14, 2025 many pictures and videos of me are still up. The only thing I can think to ask of OVC is to do better. Disabled people are still dying and we deserve to live and be part of community, not just tokenized for advertising and kicked out when we are no longer deemed convenient. Land Acknowledgements cannot start and end with saying words; they must also be accompanied by action. Conflict resolution requires conversation and open dialogue; making the decision to remove someone without initiating any conflict resolution shows a deep level of disrespect and a lack of community care. I highly recommend all board and staff members working through the book Me & White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad to get a better understanding on how white privilege, exceptionalism, and superiority are currently at work within the choir and work to change it. I will be working through that book for many years and am grateful for this resource that was shared with me. I will continue to sing for the rest of my life. Group singing is part of my ancestry and I will practice my culture despite the isolation shown me by being a queer disabled non-binary body-mind. Jane Perry proved to me time and again that people like me were integral to community. She showed me that I didn't have to yell to be heard, and even my quietest words mattered. She taught me that when mistakes happen we learn from them and grow stronger when we are listening. In the 6 years since meeting her I have become surrounded by queer disabled family, some of whom I met through OVC, and I am incredibly grateful for their care and love. I am grateful for those who love me enough to help me grow and become a kinder and more open-hearted activist. I am grateful for their patience and accountability. Since beginning to write this on Sept 27, 2025 the husband of my mom’s youngest sister has also died of cancer, and I now have another wave of the same grief that I continue to swim amongst. I am not alone, neither in this grief or in my life. My time with OVC may be done but I know it is so I can start a new chapter in my story and I have faith it will be full of song. Best Wishes -Oliver they/them I want to take a moment here to express my gratitude to some folks who have supported me throughout this time: Kait and Sam, your feedback during my editing of this post helped me put into words some big emotions and I am so thankful for your time and thoughts Jaime, thank you for the time and care you showed to me while I prepared for the final concert and your friendship before and after this. Nic, your support and hard work throughout my final years with OVC kept me going during some really hard times and I'm forever grateful for how hard you work to create access for those around you. Orfie and Sean, your emotional support throughout this time has been invaluable, thank you for your love Elliot Rae Cormier, my dear husband. This time has been so hard for you as well and I am so sorry your 10th season with OVC started with my removal. I am so grateful for your continued support and love while I grieve, and I will do all I can to support you how you need. I love you so much. And also you who are reading this, and everyone else I am forgetting to thank. I am truly surrounded by love and am so grateful for it all.
