On this day in queerstory: Winnipeg elects first openly gay mayor

On this date, the LGBTQ+ movement marks milestones that speak to one central idea: when queer people step into public roles, everything else shifts. October 28 is less about a single protest or law, and more about stepping into visibility — in office, in media, in everyday life.

On October 28, 1998, Glen Murray was elected mayor of Winnipeg, Manitoba — the first openly gay man ever elected as mayor of a major North American city. The accomplishment was quietly historic. Here was a rising politician who didn’t hide his identity and still won public office in a city that, like many, had its own entanglements with prejudice and stereotype.

For queer advocates, Murray’s election offered a clear public message: representation matters. Having openly gay people in visible leadership roles doesn’t just reflect cultural change — it creates it. It signals to younger LGBTQ+ people: you belong. It signals to institutions: your votes, voices and lives matter.

Murray’s term was marked by social initiative, inclusive rhetoric and efforts to make Winnipeg more welcoming. While his identity was not the only reason for his success, it became part of the broader narrative of an era in which LGBTQ+ people were not only seeking rights — they were seeking presence.

Earlier, in 1981 (October 28), American network television premiered Love, Sidney — a sitcom based on a made-for-TV movie about a gay man living with a single mother. Although the character’s homosexuality was never explicitly declared, and the creators and star were cagey in interviews, the show marked a shift in how queer lives (however coded) entered the home.

While it might feel modest today, at the time the show broke new ground in providing visibility — however partial — and paved the way for more overt queer representation. When audiences tucked into their sofas and watched a show that suggested a gay protagonist, it raised questions and disturbed assumptions in mainstream media.

These two moments — mayoral election and network show — share a theme: stepping into the public eye. They signal that queer existence is not merely tolerated; it is part of civic life and cultural life.

When an openly gay man leads a major city, it isn’t just about politics — it’s about identity, normalisation, and democracy. When a gay character enters network TV, it isn’t only entertainment — it’s representation, it’s possibility, it’s the subtle rewiring of media norms.

Visibility doesn’t guarantee equality — there are many more battles to fight. But it creates the conditions for those fights. It makes it harder to dismiss queer people as invisible or “other”.

If the core of queer activism is the demand: We exist and we are here, then October 28 is a day that quietly realises that demand. It’s when the private becomes public, when identity becomes leadership, when existence becomes presence.

When we see queer people leading cities or starring in shows — even when the representation is imperfect — we are reminded that change is incremental and visible. And each incremental step opens the door a little wider.