Editor's note: This column is an opinion piece, and the views expressed are those of the author. Black Press Media is committed to journalistic integrity, freedom of expression, and Canadian Press standards. We believe in the importance of publishing commentary that reflects lived experience, provokes thoughtful dialogue, and holds public officials accountable. We recognize the right of individuals to their beliefs—
At last week’s Okanagan Public Schools board meeting, something unsettling happened—not in what was said, but in what was left unsaid. During a moment meant to celebrate inclusion, visibility, and artistic contribution, one trustee made a deliberate choice to sit out—literally.
Tyson Cook, a 14-year employee of the school district and a well-loved public performer known as drag queen Freida Whales, was being recognized by the board for receiving the City of Kelowna’s 2024 Honour in the Arts Award. It was a significant moment, especially given Cook’s resilience in the face of ongoing harassment from far-right groups like Action4Canada, who’ve targeted him simply for being an openly gay man who also happens to perform in drag and promote literacy through family-friendly programming.
When it came time for a group photo with Cook and the trustees, everyone stood—except trustee Amy Geistlinger. She remained in her seat, shuffling papers and avoiding the camera, despite being mere steps away. Minutes later, she was smiling in other group photos, showing her selective participation was no accident. I sat in the gallery and watched. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t ambiguous. It was a message. And it was disturbing.
Geistlinger’s use of her trustee chair as a pulpit for advancing religious dogma—what she calls “convictions”—is beginning to be well documented. For further insight, read about a statement she made publicly at the latest BC School Trustees Association AGM in an expanded version of this column here. But her ongoing campaign to marginalize queer and trans people under the guise of “freedom of belief” must be seen for what it is: an abuse of public office.
Following the school board meeting, I reached out to Geistlinger directly to ask why she refused to join the group photo with Cook. She replied:
"Mr. Cook stated that 'Tyson had nothing to do with [the award].' He said that it was his drag queen persona, Freida Whales, that was being recognized, not Tyson Cook as a CEA. Why would we celebrate work unrelated to Board and school district business?
Our schools are welcoming spaces. So long as we are free to celebrate or not celebrate things according to our own convictions, our schools remain safe, inclusive places. If anyone is forced to celebrate something, that is no longer a safe environment."
Let’s unpack that.
While it’s true the award was for Freida Whales’ artistic work, Tyson Cook—the person behind Freida—is a respected, longtime employee of the school district. It was the board that chose to recognize him at a public meeting, linking his community contributions to the values of the district. Would she have remained seated if it were a student being recognized under the same circumstances?
By refusing to stand in support—and then using that moment to parse what is and isn't “board business”—Geistlinger reinforces a dangerous double standard. Would she snub a teacher being recognized for community work in a church? Or a coach winning an award unrelated to school sports? Her response suggests her principles only activate when queerness is involved.
Worse, her notion of a “safe, inclusive place” appears to be one where straight, cisgender, religiously conservative adults feel protected from having to even acknowledge 2SLGBTQIA+ people in public. That’s not inclusion—it’s erasure.
Since I was quoted in a Kelowna Capital News article about this event (read it here), I’ve received a wave of hate-filled messages. People have called me a pervert, immoral, and worse. This is how bigotry gains traction—through the actions of officials like Geistlinger who provide it with respectability.
Character is revealed in the moments we choose to stand—or refuse to. Trustee Geistlinger stayed seated during a celebration of a queer educator. Put succinctly, it’s performative exclusion cloaked in conviction.
We must ask: If a trustee cannot show up for all students—especially those already targeted and marginalized—do they belong in the role at all?
But how do we begin to transform this kind of ingrained thinking? As someone who grew up in a fundamentalist Christian environment, I know firsthand how deeply these beliefs are rooted—not just in doctrine, but in fear, guilt, and shame. They’re taught not simply as values, but as absolutes, reinforced with the terrifying weight of eternal consequences. Even for those who want to question them, it’s a steep and lonely climb. And when these beliefs come bundled with a sense of righteous duty to "save" others, they’re pushed forward at any cost—often regardless of the trauma or harm they leave in their wake.
Wouldn’t it be something—maybe even a small miracle—if those so determined to preach and judge could instead pause, reflect, and truly listen? If they could sit, without agenda, and hear the lived experiences of those they seek to other? That kind of openness has been known to soften hearts. And sometimes, it’s how minds begin to change.
~ Dr. Wilbur Turner
