By Elisha Côté
Walk into the Granite Curling Club on a Tuesday night in Edmonton, and you’ll hear it before you see it: laughter echoing off the ice, rocks gliding across clean sheets, brooms brushing in rhythm.
It’s the sound of Curling with Pride Edmonton, a league unlike any other in the city.
For nearly 30 years, this league has been a haven for Edmonton’s 2SLGBTQ+ community, a space born from courage, friendship, and the simple act of saying yes when others said no.
It all started with Dean Carlson, a curler who grew up in Swan Hills, a small northern Alberta town of about 2,500 people.
“I couldn’t play hockey to save my life,” he said. “So I ended up hanging out with the old people at the curling rink. I must’ve been 12 or 13 when my parents needed a spare once in a while, and that’s how I got going.”
When he moved to Edmonton in the mid-1990s, Carlson wanted to keep curling, but he couldn’t find a place that felt safe. There was no curling league for gay athletes, no group that would let queer players show up without fear of judgment.
Then one night at The Roost — a beloved gay bar that no longer exists — he spotted a flyer taped to the wall: Interested in curling? Take this and give me a call.
“I mean, you could’ve been talking to anyone on the other end,” he said. “But I called and that’s how Curling with Pride Edmonton began.”
There were just enough curlers for three teams, so they split into four to make real games. The next step was finding ice, and that’s when the barriers appeared.
“When we approached clubs to rent space, we told them the truth,” Carlson said. “We said, ‘We’re starting a gay and lesbian league.’ Only one club said yes, the Granite Curling Club. And that’s where we still are to this day.”
Starting a queer sports league in Alberta in 1997 wasn’t easy.
“It was tough,” Carlson remembered. “We weren’t fully accepted. There was still discrimination going on left, right, and centre throughout communities all across Alberta and the world at that time.”
That commitment turned the Granite into more than just a rink; it became a home.
“For people who’ve never felt like they belong somewhere before,” he said, “you do belong — and you will be loved.”
Over time, the league grew from two teams to 20. Players of every skill level joined, from first-time curlers to those who’d competed provincially. The goal was never medals or trophies; it was connection.
“Curling’s special because you talk between every shot,” Carlson said. “You get to know people. They become part of your family.”
One of those family members is Kevin Jesus, a television broadcaster who first learned to curl while covering the sport for work.
He recalled: “Pat Simmons came up to me one day and goes, ‘Kev, you’re always doing the interviews, always talking about the game, but have you ever slid out of the hack?’”
Simmons handed him a broom and offered a simple tip: when you release a rock, it’s like shaking a hand. It was, Jesus said, “My very first lesson and I instantly fell in love with it.”
Years later, after moving to Edmonton, he joined a Learn-to-Curl program but wanted a space that felt welcoming.
“I was never that hockey guy,” he said. “I just wanted to go somewhere I didn’t have to hide who I was or not talk about being gay.”
He found Curling with Pride.
“I didn’t know anyone,” he said, “but they said, ‘We’ll find you a team.’”
Now, he reflects on just how far that one invitation has reached.
“My entire social circle has tentacles back to Curling with Pride,” he said. “When you walk into the Granite, people are hugging, laughing, catching up on life. It’s home.”
“It’s life-changing,” he added. “Life-saving, even.”
There are some who wonder why leagues like Curling with Pride still exist. Carlson doesn’t hesitate.
“It’s still so relevant today,” he said. “Kids are still being bullied. The fight is always going to be here. If we want to keep the rights that we have, we have to stay relevant. We have to stay visible and make sure our voices are being heard so that we aren’t going to be snuffed out again.”
That determination has helped launch something much bigger: the Canadian Pride Curling Championships, which now include nearly every province.
For both men, the heart of Curling with Pride Edmonton has never changed. It’s about showing up and showing people they matter.
“Once we get enough shine going,” Carlson said, “it’s going to look like the sun is coming, and we’re going to have somewhere good to be.”
