"You never know who you’re going to inspire, and what you’ll inspire them to do,”
For over 40 years, The Pride Society (formerly known as the Ten Percent Society) has been fostering queer belonging on the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus.
While many remember the dances, few know the story of how one of the longest-running queer campus organizations in Wisconsin got its start.
It’s a story of determined students who stepped up to be seen – at a critical historic moment – and dared to change the world.
Meet the founders
Matthew Alexander was born in 1963 in New York City.
“I had the privilege of attending some of the best public schools in the city: PS6 on 81st and Madison, and later Stuyvesant High School on 15th Street between 1st and 2nd Avenue. High school was close to the Village, so I spent a lot of time there,” said Matthew.”
Matthew came out as a sophomore in high school. He remembers visiting the Oscar Wilde Bookshop (15 Christopher Street,) run by gay rights pioneer Craig Rodwell.
“I didn’t know who he was at the time, but I certainly appreciate now what he did for the movement,” said Matthew.
“This man joined the Mattachine Society, witnessed Stonewall, and founded what is now the New York City Pride March. I was in his presence. I bought buttons and books and other stuff from him. It’s wild to think that our paths crossed.”
Matthew looked young for his age, and couldn’t really sneak into bars. So, he and friends went to the infamous Ninth Circle (169 W. 10th St.) after high school and drank sodas instead. Later, he learned some of his classmates – who were supposedly straight – had been going to The Saint (105 2nd Avenue.)
Matthew began attending UW-Madison in 1981 because he had relatives in southeastern Wisconsin, and because UW-Madison gave him the most generous financial aid package.
Callen Harty grew up in Shullsburg, a small town of 1300 in southwestern Wisconsin. He always wanted to be a writer, but didn’t know what to pursue degree-wise. He started college at UW – Eau Claire, but quit in the middle of his junior year.
“I thought, if I want to be a writer, then I just need to live.”
He moved to Platteville – “the home of the world’s largest man-made M” -- where his mother lived at the time. And that’s where he came out at age 21.
“I was one of those people who, once I was out, there was no going back in,” laughed Callen.
“But you have to understand, I came out 10 years after Stonewall. Most people didn’t even know that they knew a gay person."
"That’s why Harvey Milk was encouraging everybody to come out: because once everybody was out, everybody in America would realize that they knew a gay person, and they’d be less likely to want to discriminate against us. And he was right about that.”
“Unfortunately, Platteville was a horrible place to come out.”
A short time earlier, Mark Prestegard founded Gays and Lesbians of Platteville (GLOP,) the first on-campus gay group at UW-Platteville.
“Mark had been attacked outside a gay bar in Madison,” said Callen, “and he had no one to turn to and no one to talk to."
"In response, he and his friends founded the group. He was a real pioneer. It was one of the first queer campus groups in the UW system, and he faced a lot of resistance for starting it."
"One of the UW-Platteville professors actually wrote a letter to the editor that he wouldn’t allow his own children to attend the university if the group was approved. I wonder how that worked out for them.”
By the time Callen moved to Platteville, Mark had already moved to Madison, but he’d come back to visit friends regularly. That’s how the two met.
“I joined the group right away,” said Callen. “We started doing outreach and education in the community. But it was still a small town, and once people found out I was gay, they made sure I knew that they knew. I’d be walking down the street and people would scream the F word at me. They’d throw beer bottles at me. It was crazy.”
Platteville was also where the fourth founding member came into the equation. Larry Acherman was attending theater classes at UW-Platteville with Callen’s childhood best friend. They became immediate friends. After Larry moved to Madison, Callen started thinking about his future.
“I knew I didn’t want to live in Platteville forever, but I was torn between Madison and Minneapolis. Being from a small town, Minneapolis seemed too big for me. So I moved to Madison in 1982.”
After moving to Madison, Callen, Mark, and Larry reconnected, and met Matthew.
“I honestly don’t remember how I met Matthew, but I just adored him,” said Callen. “He’s just an amazing person. So, we all started hanging out.”
Seizing the moment
The founders arrived in Madison at the height of the gay rights movement. In 1982, Wisconsin Governor Lee Dreyfus signed the first Gay Rights Law in the nation, granting anti-discrimination protections for gay men and lesbians in housing, credit, employment, and public accommodation. In 1983, Wisconsin passed the Consenting Adults Law, which essentially decriminalized homosexuality once and for all.
But, at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, there weren’t really any student groups seizing the moment.
“There was The United on Brooks Street, and the Gay Center at St. Paul’s, but these were community-driven organizations,” said Matthew. “David Clarenbach was leading the charge on progressive legislation in the State Capitol. There was a lot of excitement, a lot of energy… but nothing really happening on campus that was connected to it.”
In the 1970s, Gay Activist Alliance and earlier gay student groups met on campus. But by 1983, they’d faded away.
It was early 1983, and Matthew was 19 years old. One afternoon, he and his friends Matthew, Larry and Callen were sitting in the Memorial Union scoping out guys. That wasn’t out of the ordinary, but where the conversation went next certainly was.
“To this day, none of us know who thought of it first,” said Callen, “but one of us was like, you know, we should have a gay group on campus. By this time, Mark’s group had been operating for years in Platteville. And now we were in Madison, the capitol of Wisconsin, the largest campus in the UW system. And Wisconsin was now the Gay Rights State. So, why do we not have a group?”
“We decided it was time to start a student group, and this later became the Ten Percent Society,” said Matthew. “We filled out the paperwork at the Dean of Students Office, applied for funding through the Wisconsin Student Association (WSA,) and that was that. It was not an uphill battle at all. The administration was very supportive, especially Mary Rouse, then an assistant dean (and later, the Dean of Students.)”
“It needed to be done, so we thought we needed to do it,” said Callen. ”Mark was the heart and soul, and Matthew was really the brains and muscle of the operation. He was really good at connecting with people who could help us. He was great at researching university rules for organizing, funding, and recruiting members.”
“We asked WSA for funding to produce a dance in fall 1983, which would be our first Harvest Ball.”
There was just one problem. Following an election, the newly elected student government nixed the funding for Ten Percent and other student groups. Undaunted, the Ten Percenters fought back.
“We got on the phone and called ALL the other student groups, encouraging them to contact their Student Senators,” said Matthew. “Student Senators who’d never gotten a phone call from another student were suddenly getting calls. In the end, we made it happen: funding for all student groups was restored and we were able to produce the dance.”
The 1st Harvest Ball was held in fall 1983. The group hung posters all over campus and sold tickets at Rod’s, A Room of One’s Own, The Cardinal, Emily’s, and the People’s Bookstore. Hundreds showed up for the event, which included a live band and a DJ.
“People loved it,” said Matthew. “The response was fantastic, and it showed us there was a need and a demand. We made a little money, so we became self-sustaining, and we were able to pay back a start-up loan from WSA. When we started, the drinking age was still 18, so most if not all university students could drink.”
“It’s funny: the band’s name was Technical Difficulties. And during their set, that’s exactly what they experienced. They had to stop performing and turn the entertainment back to the DJ.”
“People came from all over for those dances,” said Callen, “especially from small Wisconsin towns that didn’t have anything for gay people back then. The dances became a way to meet queer folks, make new friends, and feel like you were part of something bigger.”
After the first Harvest Ball, the group started to focus on an agenda.
“The dances were huge, but we did more than just dances,” said Callen. “We created an Out & About Week. We helped phone bank for David Clarenbach on gay issues. We volunteered at the Hotel Washington coat check for tips to raise money for the org.”
“We would meet every week, but I can’t remember exactly what we did at these meetings,” said Matthew. “Everyone was doing something. Speakers, presentations, discussions…. It was a little bit social, a little bit activist. There wasn’t a non-discrimination policy on campus, so we pursued one. We got people activated and agitated – and we got it done.”
“There was some pushback. There will always be haters, right? But it wasn’t a coordinated campaign against us, like something you’d see today. For instance, a Ten Percent Society banner that hung over the entrance to the Memorial Union was vandalized and torn down. So, we replaced it and moved on.”
The Ten Percent Society started with one dance in the 1983/1984 school year and expanded to two dances in 1984/1985. Matthew and the other founders were already aiming higher.
“The incident with our funding got me involved with student government,” said Matthew. “I took Harvey Milk’s advice: get your ass at the table. I was elected as a student senator to WSA and eventually got elected as co-president of the Wisconsin Student Association. With that seat at the table, I could make things happen.”
In spring 1985, Matthew helped to organize a Midwest conference of LGBTQ student groups. Nearly 30 organizations were represented, with 50-70 people attending the conference and adjoining Ten Percent Society dance. Nancy Roth, executive director for the Gay Rights National Lobby, served as keynote speaker.
“We suddenly felt like we could do anything we set our minds to. We can do a dance. We can do a conference. We had all these inspiring people in government: David Clarenbach, Kathleen Nichols, Dick Wagner. We had all these successes at the State Capitol.”
“Madison’s always had a reputation for being a liberal city,” said Callen. “I think it’s probably less liberal than it likes to think it is, but it was liberal enough for the Ten Percent Society to happen. I don’t recall any pushback, any protest. I’m willing to be there weas some stupid opposition, but it was probably minimal. Most people just recognized that the queers were here, and that we were not going away.”
“It really felt like we could do important stuff. We had the ability and the opportunity. We had people at the table. We had support from the students. We had a supportive campus administration. We had a supportive city and county government. We had new state laws to protect us. Sure, there were always going to be shmucks and idiots, but we now felt powerful enough to deal with them.”
Unity within community
Today’s students might question why the Ten Percent Society, like the Gay Rights Law, made no specific provisions for the transgender community, or even gender identity. Was this an oversight? Was this a choice?
The fact is: the community was very inclusive in practice, but perhaps less inclusive on paper in the 1980s.
“You know, we took the name ‘Ten Percent Society’ from the estimate that 10% of adults were gay or lesbian,” said Matthew. “We were very focused on sexual identity. Everyone was.at that time.”
“When the Ten Percent Society was founded, our number one goal was not going back in the closet,” said Callen. “There were far less openly gay people, but even far less openly trans people. The LGBTQ acronym did not exist. We were still at least ten years away from the formation of a separate transgender community.”
“And we did not have the identity distinctions we have today. ‘Gay’ was used to describe men and women. The ‘community’ included everyone. The ‘movement’ included everyone. Nowadays, it can be challenging to find language that satisfies everyone, but back then ‘gay’ was the universal language used.”
“We saw Ten Percent Society as an all-encompassing organization, and we certainly never would have intentionally excluded anyone. In fact, it would have felt awkward to have to say we were open to all, because of course we were. We wanted everyone to be able to be their honest selves and live without fear.”
The AIDS Crisis
Hanging over all this newfound hope and optimism was the menacing cloud of AIDS.
AIDS was first diagnosed in a Wisconsin resident – and became a reportable communicable disease in Wisconsin – the same year the Ten Percent Society was born. By the end of 1985, there were at least 100 people living with HIV in Wisconsin.
“It was a time of indescribable, incredible fear,” said Callen. “People became afraid to touch each other. People were afraid that we were all going to die. Whatever rights we had just gained, we were going to lose, because straight people now considered us this diseased group. If somebody told you they had AIDS, it was a question of when they would die, not if.”
“And for years, the president wouldn’t even acknowledge any of this was happening.”
“AIDS was terrifying. AIDS affected how you interacted with everyone around you,” said Matthew. “Everyone, gay and straight, was afraid of AIDS, and there was a lot of AIDS and HIV stigma. It really forced you to think about what you were willing to risk for sex. It really redefined what sex looked like for a lot of people. When testing was finally available, it was a “hurry up and wait” situation as results took weeks. There was no rapid test, like we have today: you’d wait weeks wondering, worrying, trying not to panic.”
“We didn’t have a lot of information, and what little information we had was somewhat questionable. It was so scary. I remember going to NewBar, where Rodney Scheel had called together community leaders including Ricardo Gonzalez from the Cardinal and Tim Tillotson from the Blue Bus Clinic. I don’t recall exactly what was said, but everyone there agreed we had to get organized as a community.”
“I remember the first person I knew who died of AIDS,” said Callen. “He was a genuine, good guy who bartended at one of our local hangouts. I’m an incredibly gentle Zen kind of person, but when I heard he died, I smashed my fist into a wall. There was a lot of anger, and a lot of survivor's guilt. We were surviving, even though we did everything everyone else did at that time, and somehow we were spared. Growing up Catholic, you have that guilt anyway, but we had to live through it. So we still went out dancing, because we’re still going to dance no matter what. But you still carried all those feelings inside you.”
While Matthew didn’t lose any friends while living in Madison, he lost countless friends after moving away.
“I remember hearing about one of the bartenders at Rod’s passing away. It was so sad. He was this lovely, sweet, beautiful man full of life. And he was just gone,” said Matthew.
Making way for the next generation
When the Ten Percent Society began, the founders dreamed of being more political than social.
“All four of us were and still are political animals,” said Callen. “We wanted to make sure that our people were recognized as equals and felt safe. We wanted to educate people. But eventually, the group became more of a social organization than anything.”
By 1985, all four founding members had left the Ten Percent Society in the hands of new leadership.
“We didn’t really have any sort of formal succession planning. People just came out of the woodwork and got involved. The membership just kept increasing, as did the turnout at Ten Percent events. But now, it was time for people to step up and lead the charge.
“To take a line from Harry Potter, ‘we plan and then all hell breaks loose,’” said Matthew. “People said yes to the commitment, but then life happened, and they couldn’t keep their commitment. So, someone else stepped up and replaced them.”
“Although I’d resigned as WSA co-president in early 1987, a few months later, I worked with Ten Percent to organize a Madison delegation for the 2nd March on Washington for Gay and Lesbian Rights that fall. Student and community members who joined us on those busses came back energized and motivated to organize in Madison.”
“I was a student when we founded TPS,” said Callen, “but I was more committed to my passion for writing. I worked different jobs over the years, and eventually left the university, so I never wound up graduating from UW-Madison.”
“I tend to be somebody who starts things and moves on,” said Callen. “I don’t necessarily need to stay with them forever.”
Callen left Madison for Denver in 1987. Mark moved there for awhile too, before moving to Arizona.
“I left Madison in 1988 as a seven-year student with a four-year degree,” said Matthew. “I attended five years full-time, two years part-time before finally graduating.”
“I always thought I’d stay in Madison, but I needed a job. My friend Alan had moved to Los Angeles a year before I graduated. He helped me get an interview for a job where he worked. I got the job and moved to LA to do technical support for an insurance company, back when all the computer programs ran on MS-DOS.”
In 1994, Mathew was thrilled to attend the Stonewall 25 celebrations in New York City, where he sang with the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles at Carnegie Hall alongside the New York City Gay Men’s Chorus and the Seattle Men’s Chorus.
Matthew has returned to Wisconsin for family events – and made time for side trips back to Madison.
“One time, I made it to a Ten Percent Dance and my cousin’s wedding on the same visit,” he laughed. “The dances in the 1990s included a lot of young people from high schools all over Wisconsin. That was so cool to see!”
Becoming The Pride Society
Reignited for a new generation after the COVID pandemic, the Ten Percent Society rebranded as The Pride Society to reflect its increasingly diverse membership.
“When I heard the group had renamed itself as The Pride Society, I thought that was really fucking cool. It’s grown, and I’m glad it’s grown, to be more inclusive and reflective. It’s brilliant. It’s magical. And they even kept the same initials!”
Today, The Pride Society continues creating a campus free of oppression. In 2016, the organization was awarded the Inclusivity Award for being the most inclusive student group on campus. TPS hosts study nights, game nights, and other social events for LGBTQ students and their allies, including an annual Pride Prom.
Closing thoughts
Over 40 years after founding the Ten Percent Society, the founders believe real world communities – and real world actions – are more important than ever.
“Many, many, many students come to UW-Madison from small towns in Iowa, Minnesota, Illinois, and Wisconsin,” said Callen. “And suddenly, you’re at this university that is huger than ever. How do you find your people? How do you build connections? I think TPS is important because it gives people a sense of belonging.”
“Groups like the Ten Percent Society are more important now than they were in 1983,” said Matthew. “Let’s not kid ourselves: there’s an active effort to erase us. When they take away the T and Q from Stonewall, ask yourself who’s next? Is it the B? Is it the L? When do they come for the G? Don’t think they won’t. I go back to that old poem by Martin Niemoller, “First, They Came.” People forgot that, and now they’re having buyer’s remorse.”
“You see people saying, I didn’t think they’d attack my benefits, I didn’t think they’d deport my family, I didn’t think prices would go up! They’re doing exactly what they said they would do if elected. So, what did you think was going to happen? Can’t you see what could happen next? Wake up!”
“I want kids to understand that as much as you can find a community online – and maybe, that’s where you find your community first because of your circumstances – you’re going to build a stronger community when you can be with people in person,” he said. “Community is how we got through Anita Bryant, the Briggs Initiative, the AIDS Crisis. It’s how we’re going to get through the trans hysteria and all the other things they’re coming at us with.”
“But it’s really important that people learn how to be together in person. Get your heads out of your phones and apps and games. Meet people in person and learn how to build things in person. Use those phones and apps to amplify our voices. Use them to get people mobilized, activated, and protesting in the streets. Use them to be heard. Don’t use them to isolate yourself.”
“Fight like hell,” said Callen. “That’s what I’d tell the students of today. Do not deny yourself. Do not back down. And fight like hell for everything you have, so you don’t lose it.”
Today, Matthew sings with the Los Angeles Gay Men’s Chorus, sharing a message of hope, resilience, and anti-bullying in the community.
“Yesterday, we were at a charter school in Reseda, and a 17-year-old student sent a question: ‘what hope can you give me?’ And my answer was, we must focus on community. We don’t take things lying down."
"That’s where orgs like the Ten Percent Society come in. They help organize and motivate us. They help us NOT take it lying down. They get us to a place where we can show our anger and hold our elected officials and allies to account to make sure they are advocating for us. They help us hold society’s feet to the fire. They help us ensure nobody is selling us out.”
“That’s why these organizations are still so critical, especially student orgs like the Ten Percent Society.”
Reflecting back on his work with Ten Percent and WSA, organizing the conference of LGBTQ student organizations, and helping organize a contingent to the 1987 March on Washington, Matthew said, “it’s one of those things where I look back and say, ‘I did what? I did that?’”
“If you had told me in 1981, when I first landed in Madison, what I would accomplish with the community I was about to join, I would have told you you were crazy.”
The concept for this web site was envisioned by Don Schwamb in 2003. Over the next 15 years, he was the sole researcher, programmer and primary contributor.
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The concept for this web site was envisioned by Don Schwamb in 2003, and over the next 15 years, he was the sole researcher, programmer and primary contributor, bearing all costs for hosting the web site personally.
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