The man behind the handbag
A CAGS encounter
On my quest to find Ray Harvey-Amer I was pointed in the direction of a group called the Croydon Area Gay Society (CAGS), a social group for LGBT+ people.
First established in June 1971 CAGS are fast approaching their 50th anniversary. Their constitution is focused on providing “social, cultural, recreational, and educational events” and “pride and mutual support” to benefit the LGBT+ community in Croydon. Membership is open to all who support the Aims of the Society, young and old, however, current membership is predominantly made up of older gay men. CAGS is no stranger to adversity, they were removed from a pub in 1972 for being gay. In the early days, they organised discos at The Star, but nowadays tend to focus on daytime and cultural activities such as group lunches, concerts, rambling, tennis and gallery visits. Meeting monthly, their events feature speakers and performers. A monthly newsletter brings the society together for activities and updates members on current issues. The CAGS are frequently present at events such as LGBT History Month, Gay Pride, IDAHO day and Croydon PrideFest.
Unintentionally, I crashed an annual meeting in my pursuit of Ray and talked to David Page, the Chairman since 1995. Ray was confirmed as a CAGS member and good friend, and so contact details were passed and several weeks later I found myself sitting opposite Ray in the Croydon Clocktower cafe.
A naval man
At 84 years of age, there was almost five decades between us and I had been worried that our age difference would prevent us from being able to relate. Ray had been gay when it was still illegal and a punishable offence, he had even been prescribed a course of aversion therapy by doctors to ‘cure’ him. Having grown up after the decriminalisation and with homosexuality no longer labelled a mental disorder, would our experiences be too different to find enough in common?
I needn’t have worried; Ray was a bright, friendly man with a charming sense of humour that made him easy to talk to. Open and talkative Ray began by telling me about his life in the Navy, where he began his career as a nurse in 1957.
Of the many stories he told, his cheeky tales in the service made us laugh out loud. In contrast to the good times, he also recalled the time he was put under investigation and narrowly escaped a court martial, he explained ”there was homophobia from above decks because it was illegal, you had to make sure you weren't caught.”
Ray met his partner of 30 years, Mike Harvey in the Navy before leaving to retrain as a health visitor. By the late 80s both men had become heavily involved with the fight against HIV and AIDS and together they created The Gay Health Link for Croydon which operated out of their home in Shirley. The scope was to create a buddy system for gay men affected by AIDS, offering support and care that did not exist at the time. The organisation grew, moving to the ACE Centre where they were encouraged to change the name to the AIDS Care Education Project. Following the death of his partner Mike to AIDS in 1991, Ray left the ACE Project and changed his name to Ray Michael John Harvey-Amer, combining their names so they would “always be in an embrace”.
OutRageous!
Ray joined the group OutRage!, a ‘home-grown British queer direct action movement’, which formed in 1990 when homophobia was on the increase. Some members from the LGBT+ community felt that negative portrayals of queer people in the press influenced the rise in violence. The controversial group would often interrupt official ceremonies and religious gatherings, holding paper signs and creating chaos to command the attention of the British press. They operated until 2011, making it one of the longest running voluntary LGBT+ groups.
Ray recalled a number of protests with OutRage!. For instance one made on The London Rubber Company after they refused to recognise that gay men used their product. Or in 1995 when Ray and several other members crashed ‘Ladies’ Day’ at Ascot Racecourse dressed in drag. An infamous protest, which divided both group members and the public, was the silent demonstration held in 1998 at the funeral of former editor of the Daily Mail, Sir David English. Outrage!‘s methods were, at times, criticised by both gay and straight people alike for being offensive. However, they did succeed in drawing visibility to issues that needed more discussion.
The Sisterhood
At a Brighton Pride in the early 1990s Ray had a “road to Damascus experience” after he met Sister Latex, a member of The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. Formed in the 1970s in San Francisco, the Sisters are flamboyant activists who use a combination of drag and religious symbolism to counter homophobia through protest. They have gone on to establish groups or ‘Houses’ worldwide, raising awareness about HIV/AIDS, safer sex and gender discrimination.
Inspired by the combination of protest and theatricality, Ray began the process of joining the Sisters in the early 1990s. He began as a Novice and soon rose to the level of Sister, explaining with a devilish grin that the first habit must either be stolen or made by hand. I began to understand that the Sisters’ attire and associated objects had powerful symbolic meaning to Ray. The figure of the nun is one of purity, peace and compassion and the Sister’s work in the queer community reflected this. For example Ray and a number of Sisters raised money and gave support to those with HIV/AIDS during Croydon Pride in 1993.
The objects carried in Ray’s Handbag were talismans; a dab of lippy for “fortitude against the oppressors”, a whistle and bell to let the enemy know you were coming, gloves for glamour and a feather boa for joy. The spare condoms and information leaflets were customary when attending gay pride parades and protests in order to educate those in attendance.
After a number of years Ray graduated from Sister to Mother and became known as Mother Molly of the Claphouse, or Mother Molly for short. This was a reference to the Molly Houses of the 18th Century that catered to the underground homosexual community. In his maternal role Ray oversaw a number of 'sainting’ rituals which involved acknowledging individuals who had made outstanding cultural contributions to the LGBT+ community.
Ray’s handbag sits in retirement at the Museum of Croydon, holding an arsenal of protest supplies long since expired. After everything he had told me about his time in The Order of Perpetual Indulgence I began to perceive the handbag in a new light; beyond a simple artefact, Mother Molly’s Handbag was starting to feel like a queer relic…