The Auckland Pride Centre was a dream which never quite fulfilled its promise, and the Crown prosecutor's characterising of it in Court today as "stumbling along" could well apply to the Centre's entire existence. And yet it achieved much, often in small ways, and was part of the vital glue that holds Auckland's glbt communities together. The Pride Centre's aims were lofty and the many people who contributed to its existence over the years were well-meaning, committed and capable, but with the benefit of hindsight it was perhaps the concept that was flawed. The Centre's genesis was back in the early 1990s, a very different time from today, when our communities seem in retrospect to have been filled with remarkable levels of promise, energy and cooperation. With the passing of the homosexual law reform legislation and the impending human rights legislation, there was a sense of purpose in the air. HIV was new and unbelievably frightening, but the NZ AIDS Foundation and other groups and individuals were beginning to grow into the problem and were attracting committed and insightful staff and volunteers. The Hero party was reaching for the stars and would produce, on the Auckland waterfront in 1993, what many still consider to be the most fabulous of the many fabulous original Hero parties. Devotion in Wellington and Freedom in Christchurch would follow and create a sense of uplift and 'connection' for those communities too. Venues and bars seemed to be opening everywhere. Gays, lesbians and transsexuals had finally realised that we are really brothers and sisters, and the contributions of lesbians to the fights against HIV and for Law Reform were being acknowledged. What better time then to launch, in New Zealand's gayest city, a community centre - to build on legal and social gains, to provide a space for various glbt services and facilities to operate, to nurture future projects, to connect and cross-polinate people and ideas. And so the Isherwood Trust was formed, soon taking a lease on premises in downtown Wolfe Street, just a stone's throw from the pivotal Staircase nightclub, then located in Albert Street. There was a Centre office, kitchen and toilets, meeting room a couple of offices and a huge rehearsal and gathering space upstairs. Pink and rainbow paraphernalia was on sale, forthright posters and art decorated the walls. There was the start of a small library. But the forces of freedom from persecution unleashed by law changes and greater visibility seemed to perversely mitigate against the need for the Centre in its grand original form. Communities that had clustered together against repression became less tied to the concept of a one stop shop for glbt needs. The lease on the expensive premises soon became unsustainable and the Centre became a bit of a gypsy, moving to, for instance, premises shared with the downtown Workers' Centre and a more elegant abode at the south end of Ponsonby Road. But the hoped for health outreach, with glbt healthcare workers tending to specific glbt needs, never eventuated and slowly the Pride Centre, losing the colonial cringe-inducing Isherwood Trust moniker somewhere along the way, went into decline, becoming less and less relevant to outward-looking gays and lesbians. Finally it washed up in a small storefront on Karangahape Road, where a tiny team of trustees, occasional paid part time staff and volunteers looking for a purpose nourished it. Slightly scruffy, but still noble, the Pride Centre seemed unable to find its niche in life, and became more and more idiosyncratic under the benevolent and passionate guidance of Edward Bennett and its board. Questions began to be raised about how many groups and individuals actually used the Centre on a regular basis, was it good value for the money pumped into it by funders such as C.O.G.S. and the ASB Trust. The little displays of rainbow stickers and fridge magnets, the faded library, all seemed lost in a time warp. And then, in early 2004, financial collapse amidst allegations of fraud and dirty dealing. Bennett was a shattered man, hovering on the edge of nervous collapse as he wrestled with the implications of the disaster. His fellow trustees seemed in shock. Then, over three years of agonising waiting while Crown prosecutors marshaled the evidence and decided to go to court. A tiring and exhausting process for all concerned. Today the Pride Centre is no more. It's premises were taken over by Rainbow Youth, its library and chattels are in semi-storage at the Gayline/Outline premises. The Pride Centre is not the only noble NZ glbt community cause to have suffered an ignominious end, or near-end. Hero stumbled into financial collapse. Twice. The D.O.O.Ds dances in Wellington gradually paid off debts from a lesbian project. GLO magazine, and other publications with a community focus, faded after promising starts. But the Pride Centre was a brave attempt to draw the disparate elements that we optimistically call the 'glbt community' together. It flew the flag and along the way did a hell of a lot of good in many, often small, ways. Maybe something will arise from the ashes, something better attuned to current needs. Something to keep alive the fight for equality and respect, to douse the flames of homophobia and repression, to address issues and inspire confidence. We hope so. Jay Bennie - 15th November 2007