Gigi Malaroda is the Vice President of Circolo Maurice GLBTQ and has been an activist since the ‘70s.
Thank you, Gigi, for this interview. Would you like to talk about the history of Circolo Maurice GLBTQ, starting with its founding in 1985, and your commitment to it?
First of all, a few words about myself to explain who I am.
I am Gigi Malaroda, I am 68 years old, I was born in 1956, and I did activism of other types first: then, since 1977, I began my political engagement in the movement, that at the time I used to call simply “homosexual.” Before Circolo Maurice GLBTQ, I did activism for eight years within collectives. As far as Maurice is concerned, I am currently Vice President; a few weeks ago, I was finally replaced as President after four years. I have been part of the Circolo since its inception in 1985, when it started as a local Arcigay circle.
At that time, Arcigay was born at the national level with a first phase in 1980 in Palermo, then in 1985 it took a new form, and I personally participated in the founding of the new Arcigay. Circolo Maurice was part of Arcigay from its establishment in 1985 until 1996. Those were years of transformation: first, for four years, we were guests – I speak in the masculine form [in Italian] because at that time we were only all gay men – at Casa Gramsci, a beautiful building in Piazza Carlina in Turin that is named this way because it housed Antonio Gramsci for some time and was the headquarters of UISP (Italian Union of Sports for Everyone) and the regional Arci. In 1989 we decided to take our own headquarters instead, renting a former hairdresser’s store and at that time we also took on the specific name of “Maurice.” From 1985 to 1989 we were simply Arcigay Torino, from 1989 we were Arcigay Maurice Torino; over time we followed all the transformations of the National Association, became meanwhile Arcigay and Arcilesbica because a lesbian presence also grew within, and from the ‘90s also a transgender and transsexual presence. We changed venues, in 1994 we rented a venue for the first time from the Municipality: this is an important concept for us that perhaps could be helpful to clarify for an American audience. To us, the goal of a public institution giving us a venue was fundamental, with the conviction that we were not just doing something for ourselves, but that our civil battles were about the entire citizenry, so the fact that we had a municipal heritage venue was a political demand, as a recognition of the function that we were, and are, carrying out at the civic level.
We have had this location since 1993, we have occupied it since 1994 and to this day we are in a municipal building, also in a larger location, and we pay rent. Contrary to what I think (I do not know if I am right or wrong) to be more common in the United States, where LGBTQIA+ associations are self-funded and rely largely on internal resources, Italy does not have this culture as much, partly because we really are poorer and partly because it is really a political question that we pose. The Circolo turns forty years old in 2025 and has grown both physically through its spaces and subjectivities: it has been enriched first by a lesbian subjectivity, by a transgender one as well, and later, within an assembly, someone claimed bisexual subjectivity. So, we also included the B in our acronym, and finally in the early 2000s we also included the Q as adherence to queer theories and practices.
At present, therefore, Circolo Maurice GLBTQ is the longest-standing association in Turin, the fourth largest city in Italy in terms of inhabitants but with a somewhat peculiar history in the movement because the ‘70s movement was born here. The Turinese situation is particular for many other traits, and it would take too long to explain. However, I must mention one of them: there is a coordination called “Torino Pride” that runs not only Pride as an important political venue of the movement but groups together the main local LGBTQ associations. The Circolo features a large library, the second largest in Italy after the Cassero LGBTQIA+ Center (Centro Documentazione Flavia Madaschi), an archive, that is also substantial, and we host many book presentations. However, to explain always a little bit the logic that we are following, the library is within the circuit of Turin’s civic libraries, because for us it is important that, for example, our catalog is within another catalog where anyone looking for books can find them. Very often, we are the only library in the circuit that has these publications. It is run by volunteers, but still, it is within this public circuit. We have counters that are open especially to the most fragile subjectivities, that we identify as transgender (an umbrella term by which we include all non-binary people who identify with various subjectivities) and migrants, people who come from countries where they are persecuted because of their sexual orientation or gender identity, and we assist them in applying for residence permits. Furthermore, there are activities that deal more generally with political activism such as organizing Pride and many other initiatives.
In what direction is Circolo Maurice GLBTQ going and what are its goals?
Since the beginning of the millennium, at the time when we also made the term “queer” our own as a theory and practice, we thought that it was important to emphasize the different current subjectivities. That is also why we use a different acronym than what is mainstream. Generally, even in Italy, LGBTQ+ is used. We kept instead the succession of subjectivities that came together, so it remains GLBTQ; other subjectivities can also be added, but this will be a path with existing internal subjectivities without formal recognition.
We have theorized precisely the practice of mixité: an exchange of subjectivities that, while affirming their specificities, want to lead a political and human path together, so we have never endorsed lesbian separatism but have recognized for example the importance of separate spaces for women within the Circolo. There are separate meeting spaces for other subjectivities as well and the Circolo is run by a mix of people from these different subjectivities. Currently, the goals are to resist, considering the situation in Italy with a neo-fascist government that attacks all LGBTQ+ issues, as well as women, with all the achievements of the ‘70s starting with abortion, considering that these are governments, national and regional, that for example want to put pro-life associations inside “consultori” [social services clinics].
This government, that is sexophobic, homo-lesbian-bi-trans-phobic, certainly, with this right-wing practice and culture, has certainly gained a lot of space in Italy; it worries us and so to us it is important to defend the subjectivities that are most directly affected – very often the transgender and the migrant subjectivities – but in general to affirm the importance of defending all the spaces with rights that have been won in the past years, in order to win more.
To give an example, in general among us there are also different positions. Many of us are not so interested in egalitarian marriage, while we have fully shared the issue of civil unions as a moment of civil battle. Marriage, to some of us within the Circolo, seems to be a practice and a risk of homologation, so I very much agree that everyone should have the same rights, but maintaining moments of distinction and valuing differences. Certainly, we are for intersectional battles: this is why the presence of migrants is also important for us, but also the proximity to feminist, social, and political battles as a shared Circolo. For example, in recent months we have also shared efforts in support of the Palestinians’ right to live against Israeli aggression in Gaza. These issues seem important to us, and we never felt that it was about defending the interests of a minority, rather about fighting for freedom and rights that involve all subjectivities for which they are not recognized.
Would you like to talk about the development and history of LGBT activism in Italy? What were the main movements? Which ones do you want to remember?
Let’s say that I consider myself a historian by training and also the fact that I have always happily worked in the archives, with memory, constitutes somehow part of my vision. I used to define my activism as “militancy,” but I no longer like this term because it seems a bit military, and I prefer “activism.”
I started with activism in the ‘70s after completing five years of political activism with the Italian revolutionary left so it was a transition from the general political activism of Lotta Continua to the first gay collectives. The gay collectives were born precisely in the second half of the ‘70s: they represented a political alternative and a division of the movement from Fuori!, that born in 1971, and was the only national association for many years. Starting in 1974, when it approached the Radical Party, it made a choice of positioning itself that, to us, it was liberal and respectable, but it abandoned the goal of radical change.
Who is “us”?
We are that part of the movement that recognized itself in the collectives, that originated in many Italian cities.
What were the collectives?
At that time, we also took the name from the collective and informal practice. For example, we were hosts of political realities or of a spontaneous neighborhood committee. We would not have thought so much about running the headquarters or services, following the formalities of giving ourselves a statute. For us, who in the ‘70s still had a perspective of radical revolutionary change, a collective was the expression of a change that transforming over time. Those collectives were generally more masculine. The Turin collective, COSR, Homosexual Collective of the Revolutionary Left, was the only one with a strong lesbian presence, the Brigate Saffo, and for me that was always a great privilege. The collectives had a national coordination that was somewhat progressively recognized in Lambda, that was a magazine born in Fuori! but afterwards moved away from it. In fact, the collectives almost all ended at the beginning of the ‘80s, in my opinion also because of the change in the political climate around us. We were living in osmosis with a political and cultural situation typical of the ‘70s, when we thought that we were in a dimension of unavoidable and total transformation. It is not by chance that the 1977 movement, that of the “Non Garantiti” or the “Indiani Metropolitani” (it has been called in different ways), was also the one in which we perhaps recognized ourselves immediately the most.
With the beginning of the ‘80s the general situation totally changed, and it is no coincidence that almost all collectives died. Only two collectives survived: one is the Collettivo Narciso, from Rome, from which the Circolo Mario Mieli was born, that is very active even now, and the Collettivo Frocialista, il Circolo 28 Giugno, that became the nucleus of the new Arcigay starting in 1985.
AIDS began to surface from the first half of the mid-‘80s – slightly later than in the United States, as early as 1982-1983 in Italy – and I believe that it spurred many of us towards the need to reorganize. Although Arcigay was formed in 1980, it was not until 1985 that it established itself at the national level. Since then, Arcigay (for a time Arcigay and Arcilesbica, until they later separated) has become the primary national association. For instance, in 1996, at some point we chose to leave because we disagreed with a political approach that felt hegemonic and disrespectful of subjectivities. We thought that it was crucial to maintain a plural LGBTQ+ subjectivity, and we felt freer to pursue an autonomous political practice. Since then, we have not joined any national LGBTQ association, although we adhere to Arci, as it provides us with a “common home” within the cultural left and other advantages.
In the landscape of LGBT associations, circoli, and collectives, how does Circolo Maurice LGBTQ fit in?
We are certainly part of that galaxy seeking structure, because there are also informal collectives that have emerged over the last ten years, for example even in Turin. We recognize instead the value of structure, for instance the one that allows us to provide services, to host university interns and civil service members, and to build a public network. At the same time, we have always maintained autonomy from the maneuvering within the large national associations like Arcigay (and for some time, Arcilesbica, though it lost influence due to TERF (Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist) positions)), A.GE.DO. (Association of Parents, Relatives, Friends of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans*, +), and Famiglia Arcobaleno: these are national associations, and we collaborate well with them at the local level, but we are not particularly interested in participating in the games of balance involving national associations. For example, we collaborate with an A.GE.DO. association here in Turin as well. We have a frontier identity, not fully formalized but still recognizing the importance of certain reference points and formal tools, always with a strong focus on culture, for instance. We have an archive, a library, and a call for studies through which we award research on LGBT issues, published by Mimesis.
Culture has always been important to us, along with social work. The Circolo is certainly undergoing constant transformation; for instance, the most recent board features an extraordinary presence of transgender people. Without labeling anyone, however, five of the nine board members would likely identify as transgender, and this was unimaginable years ago. An example of this process is the Thursday group T, that is seeing increasing participation of young and very young people who would probably identify more with a non-identitarian dimension, not necessarily queer anymore, rather non-binary. I observe with great interest, acknowledging that while these aspects may not belong to me, I recognize them and look with curiosity.
Would you like to tell your story of LGBT activism? What are the most significant moments in your activism?
First of all, I did not start homosexual activism from scratch; I already had years of political practice within the student movement and then with Lotta Continua. I worked at different levels, for instance organizing house occupations, working in front of factories, setting up little red markets in neighborhoods, activities with strong social significance in the ‘70s. At some point, though, I asked myself if it made sense to do politics on others? I do not have a job, yet I stand in front of factories, I do not have a house, yet I organize house occupations for others; this is right and fair, but maybe I should begin a little with myself. From this point of view, feminism taught me a lot.
Feminism – that broke some of the patterns of militancy, because this is what it was at the time, the ‘70s revolutionary left – is a lesson that I owe a lot to, even subjectively. So, at some point, I said no, maybe I will looking after myself. I remained part of this collective – formed in 1977 – until 1980, when it disbanded: this was my first experience with homosexual activism. Beyond the fact that I recall this important lesbian co-presence, for me it was always crucial not to engage in politics exclusively with men. That would feel like a debasement, a diminution of meaning.
For example, at one important point, we experienced something that not many have been involved in: one year and a half practicing self-consciousness mixed with four women: we were four “frocie” [Italian slur for lesbians] and four women of a feminist collective that was running a “consultorio” [social services clinic] in the same space that we were in.
To explain the use of the term “frocie,” obviously, if a heterosexual person used it derogatorily, I would not accept it and would respond. But within the movement, already in the ‘70s, a popular slogan was “Tremate, tremate, le frocie son tornate” [Be afraid, be afraid, the “frocie” are back], echoing the feminist slogan “Le streghe son tornate” [The witches are back]. Naming oneself, taking a term that was derogatory, but taking it on and provocatively rejecting it, is a practice within the movement. Similarly, the term “queer,” that can be translated as “checca” or “diverso” [different], when taken on and reclaimed, takes a performative and even “subversive” meaning. The same applies to Berlin’s Schwules Museum, that literally translates to “Museo delle Checche” [Museum of Queers], a term used in derogatory ways, but when used by a movement, it takes a meaning of positive provocation, claiming identity diversity. For a year and a half, on a more or less weekly basis, we did this self-consciousness practice that certainly taught me a lot.
Since 1985, when the period of new activism began, it has certainly been very important to me: it is true that it is a foundational element to me and for my personality. I only want to say that I do not exclusively identify with LGBTQ activism. For example, I was a union activist at school, representing my colleagues, and always enjoyed union politics. I also engaged in ecological battles and participated in social forums. I never believed activism should be that separatist to be limited to a single cause. For instance, transfeminist sharing or now, solidarity mobilizations with the Palestinian people are part of who I am. I also participated in an internationalist solidarity camp in Nicaragua, a labor camp during the Sandinista period. The internationalist perspective always interested me.
I loved my job very much, I taught since I was a sophomore in college, I started substitute teaching and finished after 40 years, after a stay in Mexico that lasted nine years, when I taught at the university in Mexico as a lecturer. Otherwise, activism has always been constant, quite present and motivating, and I would say that the things that won me the most, however, were two: training and cultural activities. Training combines a passion for teaching with the feeling that it is very important to change people’s mindsets already from the younger generations, so to be able to open minds from the early years of consciousness and growth. When, starting in the ‘90s, it was possible to do the first training courses for teachers, assemblies in schools, and training courses for municipality administrative staff or other things, training has always interested and involved me a lot. This was shared with cultural activities, with the conviction that legal and political battles are fundamental, but changing a law matters up to a certain point because what really matters is changing the mentality, giving opportunities to people to confront the value of difference, and then giving testimony through the archives, books, presentations, seminars, reading groups: it seems to me that these are always stimuli that meanwhile give me something back and also somehow contribute to change.
How do you say, “Ciao a tutti,” when you walk into a room, since “tutti” [everyone; in Italian “tutti” is masculine plural] is not considered “inclusive”?
It would not sound appropriate. I always taught Italian for many years. However, at some point I felt that the masculine overextended [used in the Italian language] did not represent me. In writing, I use the asterisk. I also use a formula that maybe I used a little bit today, though, which is a Barese [Bari’s dialect] simile. So, I say, for example, “tutt quell come noi” [everyon’ like us], vocalizing a kind of guttural that suspends and prevents recognizing gender. I know there are other practices, the “u” for example, like “tuttu,” [everyon’]; it important to challenge even linguistically the masculine universal. I have also learned in the last few years to do this in school, although with difficulty; however, I think it is necessary.
Gigi Malaroda at a procession for the taking of Cassero di Porta Saragozza, Bologna, June 1982
Cover image: Gigi Malaroda at the Turin Pride, 2014
Photo Credits © Courtesy of Gigi Malaroda
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