On this day in queerstory: ACT UP Toronto protest demands AIDS medication access
By Sofia | Last Updated: Dec 1, 2025
December 12 is a day that shows how visibility often emerges not from a single victory, but from a sequence of interruptions, scandals, breakthroughs, and brave refusals to comply.
We begin in 1989, in the chilly aftermath of that year’s World AIDS Day. On December 12, activists with ACT UP Toronto staged one of Canada’s most disruptive healthcare protests of the decade. They occupied the Ontario Ministry of Health offices, demanding immediate access to aerosolized pentamidine for people with AIDS suffering from life-threatening pneumocystis infections. At the time, bureaucratic delays and restrictive clinical trial rules meant that many Canadians were dying before getting treatment. The demonstration — noisy, theatrical, and impossible to ignore — forced provincial health officials into emergency negotiations. By the end of the week, access protocols had been rewritten, marking one of ACT UP’s most rapid policy wins. December 12 became a date that Canadian HIV activists still point to when describing the moment they realized the system could, in fact, be forced to move.
In the United States, December 12, 1978 came with a different kind of spotlight: one aimed at the courts. On that day, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court heard Commonwealth v. Balthazar, a case that challenged the legality of routine police entrapment of men in Boston’s public bathrooms. For decades, undercover stings had been used as a tool of intimidation and harassment, disproportionately targeting queer men — many of whom were closeted, married, or living double lives in order to stay safe. The December 12 hearing became a flashpoint, drawing activists, legal scholars, and journalists into heated debate about privacy, state overreach, and moral policing. Several newspapers, unusual for the time, printed sympathetic editorials calling the practice “indefensible.” The case didn’t end entrapment overnight, but it was the first major legal crack in the tactic’s legitimacy. Boston-area queer groups still cite the date as the moment the city’s policing strategy began to unravel.
Across the Pacific, Aotearoa/New Zealand registered its own milestone on December 12, 2004, when Parliament held the decisive third reading of the Civil Union Bill. Though the final vote came later that evening, the debate itself — carried live on national television — marked a cultural turning point. MPs spoke openly about their queer family members, about discrimination, about the need for dignity in the face of loud, often hostile public opposition. Outside, both supporters and opponents filled the streets, but it was the pro-equality coalition that dominated the news cycle. By the end of the night, New Zealand had legalized civil unions, laying the groundwork for full marriage equality nine years later. December 12 became a date woven into the country’s legislative queer history.
In the world of culture, December 12 carries a surprisingly vibrant legacy. On this day in 1997, the queer Japanese film Nagisa no Shindobaddo (Shindbad by the Shore), a delicate and understated portrayal of love between two young men, premiered at the Tokyo International Lesbian & Gay Film Festival. The film garnered international praise for its refusal to sensationalize queer intimacy. Critics noted that its December 12 screening marked one of the first times a Japanese queer film found a global audience without being framed as a “special interest” curiosity. It helped expand the cultural language available to queer Asian filmmakers and ushered in a generation of more nuanced, character-driven LGBTQ+ cinema.
And finally, December 12 carries one more through-line: the recurring fight for representation inside mainstream journalism. On December 12, 1990, the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association (NLGJA) hosted an emergency summit in Washington, D.C., following a spate of sensationalist AIDS coverage in US newspapers. The meeting issued a set of media standards that would later evolve into the profession’s earliest LGBTQ+ reporting guidelines, shaping decades of more ethical, accurate journalism.