by Pat Daley

1975—International Women’s Year, as designated by the United Nations—had just come to an end when a notice appeared at the Ottawa Women’s Centre, calling for a meeting of women interested in starting a locally-based women’s newspaper. The notice was posted by Patty Gibson, a young woman who had just moved to Ottawa and couldn’t believe there wasn’t a feminist newspaper in the nation’s capital.

Seven women showed up that January, mostly unknown to one another but eager to share dreams and ideas. There was a lot going on where women were concerned and a strong desire to get the news out to a broader public.

In Ontario, women were about to gain the right to an equal share of the matrimonial home and vehicle in the case of divorce—a significant leap forward since the 1973 Supreme Court decision that denied Irene Murdoch any portion of the Alberta ranch legally owned by her husband. Meanwhile, the Ottawa Board of Education was still refusing to provide benefits to nearly 500 women maintenance workers classified as part-time.

At the federal level, the government was proposing amendments to the Canada Pension Plan that would allow working women to deduct absent periods—primarily due to child-rearing—from the calculation of their lifetime earnings. And Dr. Henry Morgentaler had been jailed despite being acquitted three times by juries in separate trials.

The women who got the newspaper ball rolling knew that developing women’s media was essential to building the Canadian women’s movement as a whole. Much of their inspiration came from the progressive alternative media flourishing at the time, including the student presses active on college and university campuses. It was Patty Gibson’s own student press experience that led her to post the notice at the women’s centre.

In the spirit of the federal government’s often maligned International Women’s Year slogan, Why Not?, we were fearless. As the group continued to meet and grow — with close to 20 regular participants — so did our excitement. I was 22 years old; most of the others were certainly under 30. We’d come of age during the counterculture revolution, witnessing the struggles and the victories of movements for change, including women’s liberation. We could do anything.

With an inexperienced, all-volunteer staff, we ambitiously set out to produce a 16-page, 20,000 circulation tabloid, published biweekly. Our aim was to connect feminist groups and organizations, spread the word about actions and events, and cover societal issues from a women’s perspective. The paper would feature local, provincial, and national news; articles on arts, sports, and history; columns on law, health, and consciousness-raising, and a calendar of events.

We named the publication Upstream, inspired by Agnes Macphail, the first woman elected to the House of Commons, who said: “If I am to keep on as I have been [in public life], that means one unending struggle…. For me, more pleasure will come going upstream than down, but believe me it is no enviable position.” The quote was fitting in more ways than one. We had no money, and only three of us had ever produced a newspaper before. Yet, with purpose and collective power, we were determined to have the first issue on the stands within six months.

The very first issue was a promotional one, planned for distribution in August at a two-day benefit coffee house featuring, at that time, little known performers like Nancy White, Rita MacNeil, and Beverly Glenn-Copeland. We didn’t raise much money, but certainly got the name out and started to sell subscriptions.

As planning went ahead, we were in contact with another group in Toronto that was working on creating a progressive weekly, the Toronto Clarion. Like them, we decided to launch with coverage of the October 14, 1976 national day of protest against wage controls, organized by the Canadian Labour Congress. It was the perfect opportunity to show how Upstream would cover a national story from a different perspective, focusing on the impact of wage controls on women who were already struggling to catch up in the workforce, as well as the minimal effect of price controls on the inflation that made managing households increasingly difficult for women in Canada.

With a clear vision for our first issue, it was time to expand our core group and reach out to the women who had expressed an interest in working on the paper. Nobody minded the crowding and the cigarette smoke when 40 women showed up to a production meeting. We were in business! Our benefit had netted $400 and we had secured a $3,000 grant from the Samuel and Saidye Bronfman Family Foundation. 

The Upstream office was located right next door to the home of the Anti-Inflation Board, the site of the day of protest. The crowd outside was huge, making plenty of noise. Our neighbours on the third floor of the now-demolished Rideau Winter Club included the National Union of Students, Canadian University Press, several jewellers’ workshops, and directly across the hall, an escort agency. Two offices of women working late into the night managed to find some common ground.

Those late nights—a jumble of kids, dogs, and women—were all about newspaper layout and paste-up, running to the typesetter at Algonquin College with copy and corrections, getting giddy as the night wore on and deadlines loomed, and heading out at dawn for a greasy breakfast. That was the fun part. It was harder to find volunteers for the follow-up jobs — distribution to retail outlets and through the mail — and selling advertising for upcoming issues.

After about three months, the euphoria was turning into exhaustion. How did we ever think a group of volunteers could produce a newspaper every two weeks while holding down jobs, caring for families, or going to school? A new plan emerged: Upstream would become a monthly newsmagazine with more in-depth, well researched articles. The energy returned and carried us forward for nearly four more years. There was no shortage of news. Features included an in-depth look at women in the penal system, an assignment that saw our photographer’s camera and film seized, and the 1979 Native Women’s March, which originated in Tobique, NB, demanding changes to the Indian Act sections that stripped women of their Indian status based on who they married.

Working on Upstream was an unforgettable experience in every way. The debates were lively — Was there too much labour coverage? Would men be allowed to contribute? Should we call ourselves feminist? The learning was intense. For some, it was all about acquiring new skills in news writing, design, and running a business. For others, it meant dialling down the aggressive arguments and acquiring patience. Friendships were made that are still strong almost 50 years later.

Did we succeed in growing the women’s movement? Without a doubt, Upstream and the dozens of other feminist publications across Canada at the time helped forge connections and share news and information that galvanized women’s organizing nationwide. As the first Upstream editorial declared, “Those who say the women’s movement is dead are way off course.” That statement rings true to this day.

Pat Daley is a retired journalist and communications specialist. After Upstream, she worked for the Alberta and Ontario NDP, as a freelance editor for a variety of feminist and progressive organizations including the National Action Committee on the Status of Women, Canadian Abortion Rights Action League, and the Toronto Clarion, and ultimately for the Canadian Union of Public Employees.

Access all issues of Upstream in the Rise Up! Archive.