The A-Z of Pride – 03/07/22

Opening Music: ‘Everybody’s Changing’ (instrumental) performed by Marilisa Valtazanou

Opening Words: ‘You Are Beloved and You Are Welcome’ by Joan Javier-Duval (adapted)

You are beloved and you are welcome here:
Whoever you are, however you are,
Wherever you’re at on life’s journey.

Whether you are feeling brave or broken-hearted;
defiant or defeated; fearsome or fearful:
You are beloved and you are welcome here.

Whether tears have fallen from your eyes this past week
or gleeful laughter has spilled out of your mouth;
You are beloved and you are welcome here.

Whether you have untold stories buried deep inside
or stories that have been forced beyond the edges of comfort:
You are beloved and you are welcome here.

Whether you have made promises, broken promises,
or are renewing your promises day-by-day:
You are beloved and you are welcome here

Whatever is on your tender, precious, heart,
However it is with your soul in this moment:
You are beloved and you are welcome here.

In this space of welcome and acceptance, commitment and re-commitment, of sacred
covenant and connection – in all our glorious variety – let us join in worship together. (pause)

These opening words, based on some by Joan Javier-Duval, welcome all those who have gathered on Zoom this morning to take part in our Sunday service. Welcome to regular members of the Essex Church congregation, to friends old and new, and welcome too to those who might be listening to our podcast, or watching on YouTube, at a later date. For those who don’t know me, my name is Jane Blackall, and I’m Ministry Coordinator with Kensington Unitarians.

I hope each one of you finds something of what you need in our gathering this morning. Please do hang around afterwards for a chat if you’d like to. You can always drop us an email to say hello and introduce yourself if you’d like. Or you might try coming to one of our small-group gatherings to get to know us better. Whether it’s your first time or your thousandth time, you are welcome, and you are valued. We have a part to play in co-creating this sacred space, this sense of community.

As we always say, feel free to do what you need to do to be comfortable this hour – it’s always lovely to see your faces in the gallery and get a sense of our togetherness as a congregation – but we know for some it will feel more comfortable to keep your camera mostly-off and that’s fine. Similarly there’ll be opportunities to join in as we go along but there’s no compulsion to do so.

This theme of this morning’s service is ‘The A-Z of Pride’. This weekend marks the 50th Anniversary of the first Pride march here in London. Back in 1972 an extraordinarily brave group of people calling themselves the ‘Gay Liberation Front’ organised that historic event and some of the veterans of that first protest have rightly taken centre stage in this weekend’s celebrations. Over the last 50 years the movement has evolved significantly to recognise the diversity of people’s lived experience – in recent decades we’ve typically spoken of ‘LGBT Pride’ – and lately, out of a desire to be ever-more inclusive, that’s been expanded further to the LGBTQIA+ community – that is, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex and asexual people – who all come under one big rainbow umbrella.

Since that first Pride march a lot of important gains have been made towards justice but, around the world, hard-won rights are under threat, and many LGBTQIA+ people tragically still do not have equality. In this morning’s service, through readings and reflections, we’ll remind ourselves what it means to be a truly welcoming religious community which is committed to the ongoing struggle for liberation. And I’m delighted that a dear friend of our congregation, Gaynor, a H&S regular, is going to be sharing something of her own story with us as part of this special Pride service this morning.

Chalice Lighting: ‘The Pride Flame’ by Linda Lee Franson (freely adapted)

Before we go any further though, I’ll light our chalice, as we always do whenever we gather. This simple ritual connects us with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proudly progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part.

We light this flame to ignite our hearts and minds—
the spark of insight that enlightens,
the shimmering hope that burns,
the blazing love that empowers our actions,
the fire of our commitment to true liberation for all.

We light this flame, this Pride weekend,
for those who celebrate themselves,
who fear, who hope, who persevere
in the face of life’s setbacks and uncertainties,
and resist conformity and oppression in all its forms.

We light this flame to affirm our faithful calling
to honour the divine light in every human soul,
and celebrate the full kaleidoscope of diversity,
in keeping with our proud Unitarian tradition:
working, loving, and living on the side of Love.

Candles of Joy and Concern:

Each week when we gather together, whether it’s in person at the church in Kensington or here as an online congregation, we share a simple ritual of candles of joy and concern, an opportunity to light a candle and share something that is in our heart with the community. So we’ve got a good few minutes now, for anyone who would like to do so, to light a candle (real or imaginary) and say a few words about what it represents.

When you’re ready to speak, unmute your microphone so we can all hear you, and then re-mute yourself once you’ve finished. If you are going to speak, please be aware of how long you’re speaking for, so that there’s time for others to say something too. Let’s leave a pause between one candle and the next, so we can honour what’s been shared. And don’t worry too much if two people end up speaking at the same time, or there’s a technical hitch of some sort – these things happen on Zoom – please do persevere! At this point it’d be nice, if you can, to switch to gallery view so we can all see everybody.

(candles – thank each person)

I’ve got one more candle here and – as we often do – I’m going to light that to represent all those joys and concerns that we might be holding silently in our heart today, those stories which we don’t feel able to share out loud this morning.

Let’s take a moment now to think of all those joys and concerns we have heard expressed… all those little windows into our shared human condition and the life of the world we share… and let’s hold them – and each other – in a spirit of loving-kindness for a moment or two.

And let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer now. You might first want to adjust your position for comfort, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever works for you.

Do whatever you need to do to get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – to be fully present here and now, in this sacred time and space – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us.

Prayer: based on words by Laura Horton-Ludwig

Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being.
As we turn our attention to the depths of this life –
the cosmic mystery and wisdom that abides in All-That-Is –
we tune in to your Holy presence, the light within and without.
Be with us now as we allow ourselves to drop into the silence
and stillness at the centre of our being. (pause)

As people of faith, we seek to live in a spirit of love,
a spirit of community, justice, and peace.
And yet, in so many corners of the world both far and near,
we see exploitation and coercion, divisiveness and hate.
We struggle to respond to the outer world
and our inner dramas in ways that manifest love.
At times we may fear that love will not be strong enough.
At times we may question whether love really is at the root of all things,
in this world with so much struggle and suffering and discord.

This is the mystery within which we live and die.
These are the questions that haunt our days and nights.
And yet – despite everything – we are not quite without hope.
Our struggles and our questions testify to our longing for peace, for love.
In the stillness and silence of our own heart
we read the imprint of love: a light within.
May it keep hope alive, even through the toughest times.
May it guide us all, through our days, as we seek to act wisely and well.
May it help us to be vessels of compassion for one another and for our world. (pause)

In our company this morning, and every time we gather in community, there will be
those whose hearts are freshly broken open by all the world’s sufferings:
by loss and grief, rejection and loneliness, disappointment and meaninglessness,
by all the injustices of this world that we witness with growing anguish and frustration…
Let us spend a moment directing prayers of loving-kindness for those who suffer this day. (pause)

In our company this morning, and every time we gather in community,
there will be those whose hearts are full and overflowing, despite everything:
buoyed by the beauty of nature and culture, comforted and uplifted by family and friends.
Let us spend a moment directing prayers of gratitude for all that is still good in our lives. (pause)

In our company this morning, and every time we gather in community,
there will be those who are simply keeping on keeping on as best they can:
their hearts a blessed, messy, blend of all life’s mixed emotions, in the midst of it all.
Let us spend a moment asking for what we need this day to face life’s many ups & downs. (pause)

Spirit of Life – God of all Love – as this time of prayer comes to a close,
we offer up our joys and concerns, our hopes and fears,
our beauty and brokenness, and call on you for insight, healing, and renewal.

As we look forward now to the coming week,
help us to live well each day and be our best selves;
using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice and peace. Amen

Hymn: ‘We Light the Flame’ performed by Unitarian Music Society

Time to sing! Our first hymn, ‘We Light the Flame’, speaks of the values of our faith, as represented by the ritual of our chalice lighting. It reminds us of our commitment to the inherent worth and dignity of all people, and to nurturing the bonds of care between us, in all our great variety. The words will appear on screen so that you can sing along – or you might prefer just to listen instead.

We light the flame that kindles our devotions.
We lift our hearts in blessed community.
The mind has thoughts, the heart its true emotions,
we celebrate in worship, full and free.
Our faith transcends the boundaries of oceans.
All shall be granted worth and dignity.

So many ways to witness to the wonder.
So many dreams by day for us to dare.
Yet, reaching out, each way is made the grander,
and love made bold for dreamers everywhere.
Diversity will never cast asunder
our common weal, our bonds of mutual care.

Infinite Spirit, dwell with us, we pray thee,
that we may share in life abundantly.
Forgive our sins, feed us with good bread daily,
with strength resist temptation steadfastly.
O God of life, sustain us now, and may we
with mindful hearts, be thankful constantly.

Personal Reflection by Gaynor

Hello. I’m so grateful to my friend Jane for asking me to say a few words at this Pride service today. I’m 61 years old. I was born in 1960 and Christened into the Anglican Church by my maternal grandfather, it was just what we all did. So I didn’t really become an Anglican, I was born into Anglicanism. As a family we always went to Church, it was as normal for us as watching The Generation Game! In my family we used the word, ‘Christian’ more like an adjective, than a noun. Like, “she’s a good girl, that’s very Christian of her to visit elderly Mrs x”. I got confirmed in the Anglican Church along with all of my school year group and we either sang in the choir (boys only), or rang the church bells as a hobby (I did this to get out of PE at school)!

In my early 20’s I went to Cheltenham to study RE and English Literature at St. Paul’s & St. Mary’s Anglican college. It was here that I learnt that people could be ‘born again’ Christians. I had honestly not come across before my early 20’s. Billy Graham came to the UK and I went along with my friends to Mission England. I went through the motions of being “born again”. Also in my mid-twenties, I began to have romantic feelings towards my women friends, and found out about feminism and feminist theology. I guess I thought I had crushes on women, and nobody talked about it. About 1985, I discovered The Lesbian & Gay Christian Movement, around 1985 and joined and I felt seen and heard around my women crushes, (this was described to me as being “a lesbian”), and I thought I fitted in.

But… I am Bisexual, The B in LGBTQIA+ and have been since my early 20’s. I’ve dated and been out with and formed strong attachments, emotionally, romantically, sexually, spiritually to people of more than one gender. To me, this makes perfect sense. I found Robyn Ochs’s definition that I came across in the early 90’s the most helpful for me. “I call myself bisexual because I acknowledge that I have found myself romantically attracted to people of more than one gender”. Yes, I got that. Being bisexual has been an issue for other people, not me. The Anglican Church, basically, in brief, no you cannot be bisexual, that’s just plain wrong, pick either straight (normal) or gay (Oh, poor you). Even in the Lesbian & Gay Christian Movement, including the lesbian group kind of gave me a strong message not to be bisexual, let’s all be lesbian feminists. This is changing nowadays. In my job as a teacher, I felt very sure I should be in the closet as a bisexual woman, and that only heterosexuality (with children) would be acceptable. Even in lesbian feminist groups I got the message that being bi was not welcomed at all. On the whole in my adult life, I never had a problem with being Bi, but just about organisation, individual I knew, groups I belonged to did. This has caused me enormous anxiety, stress, fear, and a feeling of not fitting in. Hopefully younger bisexuals are feeling more confident and less anxious about their unique and wonderful sexuality.

I cannot speak for all gender and sexual minorities, but in my own experience as a bisexual woman, I believe it is vitally important in a faith community that if an organisation is going to say they are inclusive of gender and sexual minorities that as far as possible , with kindness, knowledge and listening to folk within the minorities that every part of the queer community is hopefully seen and heard and made to feel welcome. My wife is non-binary and also identifies as bi. I do not feel seen in my church of origin, I have been told explicitly by fellow lesbian and gay Anglicans that bisexual just sounds too sexual and makes people uncomfortable.

It has been my lived experience that if a church community simply states they are inclusive of lesbian & gay people or whatever, that is not inclusive enough for me. I am not a whatever. I’ve witnessed church communities say, ‘we welcome all, we don’t care if you’re gay, married, transgendered, divorced etc’ and they truly believe that they are being inclusive. No. When we use the letters LGBTQIA+, we must truly try to engage with all the queer community. I was in a LGBT+ choir in London in 2014 and the choir was working hard to be LGBTQIA+ inclusive, but we did a little video for Bi Pride and only me (in my 50’s then) and two young people in their 20’s took part, out of a choir of 90+ singers. We cannot have been the only bisexuals. I’m exhausted by all of this, and I do allow people to assume I am in a gay couple relationships a lot of the time, because it is just too stressful and I’m way too tired now to keep going on about being bisexual actually.

Thankfully, I do feel affirmed and included at Kensington Unitarians and at the soulful evenings at Heart & Soul. I do want to see the most inclusive Progress Pride flag here at Church, I do want to see all the letters of LGBTQIA+ included and explained and I want all the individual minorities to absolutely hear that God loves all of us totally unconditionally, that much is undeniable, as the queer Anglican priest, Liz Edman, says in Queer Virtue, “Queer people are forced to deal with external threats of violence, those that terrorise directly, and those we ingest with our hearts and souls. These sadly are spiritual weapons. …. Some of us seek safe harbours in urban centres with large LGBTQIA+ communities”. Liz Edman goes on. “It is good for churches to be inclusive, but it is not enough. We need places that are pastorally bold and prepared to rupture the false binaries that are employed to demonise queer identities.” It is a noble goal to be affirming and welcoming, but it neglects to demonstrate the myriad gifts that all, all in our LGBTQIA+ community has to offer. So, here’s not just to ‘gay pride’ but a fully inclusive, LGBTQIA+ Pride for all, and as a nod to T S Eliot, “Not farewell, but Fare Forward Qhero’s.”

Meditation: ‘Marginal Wisdom’ by Leslie Takahashi

Thank you, Gaynor. We’ve come to a time of meditation. To take us into stillness, I’m going to offer a few words, by the UU minister Leslie Takahashi. She invites us to lean into complexity and learn from the wisdom of those whose stories are different from our own. These words will be followed by a few minutes of stillness during which we’ll have our virtual chalice on screen. The silence will end with a song by Marilisa – one she recorded specially for our Pride service last year – it’s worth repeating. So let’s each do what we need to do to get comfortable – have a wiggle – or put your feet flat on the floor to ground and steady yourself – maybe close your eyes. As I always say, these words, images, and music, they’re just an offering, feel free to meditate in your own way. (pause)

They teach us to read in black and white.
Truth is this—the rest is false.
You are whole—or broken.
Who you love is acceptable—or not.
My life tells its truth in many hues.

We are taught to think in “either/or”s
I believe the teachings of Jesus—OR Buddha.
I believe in human potential—OR a power beyond a single, human will.
I am broken or I am powerful.
But my life embraces multiple truths, speaks of “both,” of “and.”

They teach us to see in absolutes:
Good versus evil.
Male versus female,
Old versus young.
My vision sees the fractions, the spectrum, the margins.

Let us open our hearts to the complexity of our worlds.
Let us make our own lives a sanctuary, to nurture our many identities.
The day is coming when they will know:
That the rainbow world is more gorgeous than monochrome;
That a river of identities can ebb and flow over the static, stubborn rocks in its course;
That the margins hold the centre.

Silence: 3 minutes silence accompanied by chalice video

Musical Interlude: ‘Pride’ performed by Marilisa Valtazanou

Reading: ‘Glitter and Glory’ by David Kohlmeier (read by Alex)

This piece by UU minister David Kohlmeier begins with a quote from Wililam Blake: “The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.”

David Kohlmeier continues: “You may have noticed my painted fingernails. You can thank Ramona!” I joke to the gathered congregation as they behold via my laptop camera, this “Zoom pulpit,” the sparkly blue glittery mess that my 3-year-old has painted on my nails. I can tell, even though they’re muted, the congregation is laughing. With that out of the way I go into the sermon.

All this time in virtual space has somewhat softened our formality, but I think the same thing could have happened in person—and if Ramona ever wants to paint my nails then, of course I’d allow her to. “What a good dad,” some might say. But I have a confession: I love my nails more deeply than they understand.

Going through life with my beard and masculine name and he/him pronouns, especially when preaching from the pulpit in my black clergy robe, I just seem like a guy; a cisgender man. But that’s not who I am.

Sometimes, especially during Pride Month, I miss the days before ministry when I wore glittery skirts and gaudy sarongs and fairy wings, and painted my nails and covered myself in glitter for Pride parades or for NeoPagan rituals in the woods. I miss being so blatantly queer. Those moments were like ritual possession: as I danced, I always felt like I was animated by Something beyond myself, yet radically enfleshed in my bones and skin.

I have allowed being a professional minister to domesticate my gender expression. The Bible says “quench not the Spirit.” Is that what I’ve done?

It’s such a small thing, Ramona choosing blue glitter nail polish. She has no idea that this is the colour that was once my favourite for Pride. Blue glitter makes me almost euphoric, whether on my nails or skin or hair. It’s like electric holy fire from the altar of Heaven, stolen by some queer seraphim to purify me of the closet.

Pride is sometimes about donning wings and being over-the-top, dramatically queer without fear or shame. Other times, it’s about permitting small moments of queer bliss to poke through the facade—even if it’s just messy paint from a child; even if you’re the only one who notices.

He concludes with a few words of prayer: Queer Spirit, dancing blue glitter flame, I give thanks for your euphoric mystery, your endless pronouns, your delight in queering every boundary and box. Yours is the truth that makes us free. May your glitter come, your dance be done in me as it is in heaven. Amen.

Mini Reflection on ‘The A-Z of Pride’:

As I mentioned at the start of today’s service, this weekend marks 50 years of Pride in London, and I’m pleased to report that a small group of Unitarians had a place in Saturday’s big parade, waving our own flags to proclaim our progressive religious witness, and shout about our commitment to equality. We Unitarians are rightly proud of our track record, having been a bit ahead of the curve in the past, particularly in campaigning for same-sex marriage. This year our Unitarian General Assembly overwhelmingly voted to affirm trans rights and endorse self-declaration of gender identity – great news! – but it’s important not to think that’s ‘job done’ and rest on our laurels.

On Friday, one day before the main Pride in London parade, a number of those brave and righteous people who had been present at the first ever march back in 1972 gathered to retrace their route exactly 50 years on. One of those people, the activist Peter Tatchell, spoke of their intentions in a way that I found quite inspiring, and I want to share his words with you. He said ‘We are holding a commemorative Pride march for the LGBT+ community – totally open, egalitarian, grassroots and human rights-focussed. It mirrors the informality and spontaneity of the first Pride march in 1972. [The veterans’ march is] an attempt to reclaim the radical roots of Pride, which was both a celebration and a protest. Gay Liberation Front, which organised the first Pride, saw itself as part of a wider social movement for the liberation of all oppressed people. We stood in solidarity with women’s liberation, the black and Irish communities, and working class people and trade unions. Our goal was not limited to the narrow horizon of equal rights. GLF did not want equality within what we saw as an unjust flawed society. We wanted to change society, not adapt and assimilate into it. We questioned everything about what straight society said about us as queer people and also the social dictates with regard to how men and women were supposed to look and behave.’

Pride is about so much more than getting dressed up, putting your glittery nail varnish on, and having a big party once a year (as marvellous as that is – for those who have got the energy for it – it’s been a few years since I’ve been but memories of my first, in the mid-90s, are vivid and thrilling still). Pride, at its root, was radical in its intentions, and risky. It was about truth-telling. Challenging stifling social norms. It was about solidarity with oppressed people and striving for the liberation of all. Doesn’t that chime with our values? It’s the sort of call to action that gets me excited anyway.

One of the reasons I invited Gaynor to speak to us this morning was because it can sometimes be easy to run all those letters into one another – LGBTQIA+ – and easy to forget that behind all those letters are infinitely varied and marvellous people each with their own particular life story.
And Gaynor’s story highlights a few things we ought to pay attention to. First is the important reminder that, even now, LGBTQIA+ people can’t really take it for granted that they’ll be truly and unconditionally welcomed in religious communities. In fact, I suspect most would presume they would be harangued, rejected, or condemned in church. Things are getting better in more and more denominations but the inclusion is often a bit half-hearted. Secondly, Gaynor reminds us even supposedly LGBTQIA+ centred organisations sometimes make distinctions which leave bi people feeling like second-class citizens, or excluded altogether. Similarly, and tragically, there are so-called ‘LGB’ groups which demonise trans people, and others which disregard asexuals. Even within the community there is sometimes a pressure to conform. And thirdly, as Gaynor said, ‘I am not a whatever’. It is so important that we see and hear each individual person, see them as unique and beloved, and affirm their identity, as they understand it and communicate it to us.

One thing we can learn from the LGBTQIA+ community, at its best, is a sense of ‘Unity in Diversity’. We must resist the (well-meaning) temptation to say ‘we’re all the same really’ – and instead be ready to hear each other’s stories, to pay attention, and be glad of our quite astonishing variety –
of identities and life experiences, of dreams and desires, of advantages and disadvantages. Let’s examine, or suspend, our default assumptions, and approach each other with curiosity and respect. Let’s learn from each other’s unique perspectives and show solidarity for the struggles we each face. And, in so doing, let us truly live out our most cherished principle, by affirming the inherent worth and dignity of each and every person we meet. May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.

Hymn: ‘Ours is a Town for Everyone’ performed by the Unitarian Music Society

Let’s sing together one last time and it’s a cheerful hymn of inclusive welcome: ‘Ours is a Town for Everyone’. Once again the words will be up on your screen so I encourage you to sing along.

Ours is a town for everyone
who wants to play their part
in making it a better place
to practise living’s art.

Ours is a town where every faith,
all creeds of hope and peace,
can worship freely, yet recall
we are one human race.

Ours is a town where we must care
for those whose lives are hard,
for whom bright mornings turn to tears
and all once fair seems marred.

Ours is a town where, side by side
in friendship and goodwill,
we’ll build a place where all can be
respected and fulfilled.

So let us celebrate our town
and pledge ourselves to be
the ones who make it beautiful,
safe, prosperous and free.


A few announcements this morning: Thanks so much to Gaynor for sharing her story, to Alex for reading, Marilisa for our music (she’s been poorly this week so we raided the archive for some old favourites she’s recorded for us over the last two years), and of course Jeannene for co-hosting. We’ll have virtual coffee-time after the service as usual so you can stay and chat if you’d like. If that’s not your thing, as I said at the start of the service, do get in touch via email if you’d like to say hello. And we like to take a group photo after the closing music if you don’t mind staying for that.

We have various small group activities during the week. Coffee morning is online at 10.30am this Wednesday. There are still spaces left for our Heart and Soul gatherings (online Sunday/Friday at 7pm). H&S is a contemplative spiritual gathering, on Zoom, it’s a space for prayer and deep sharing – newcomers are always welcome – email me to sign up. This week’s theme is ‘Messiness’.

In terms of in-person happenings: Our music scholar Abby Lorimier is holding a concert for Ukraine with her student chums this Tuesday, 5th July at 7.30pm, over at the church – donations on the door. Our poetry group will meet this Wednesday at 7pm, get in touch with David, Brian, or Marianne if you want to know more and to sign up in advance. Our own Harold and Margaret are holding a concert in All Saints Child’s Hill up in Hampstead, next Saturday 9th July at 7.30pm.

Next week we’ll be having a hybrid service led by Sarah Tinker so you can join us either in-person or online at 10.30 next Sunday. All the details of our programme will be in next Friday’s email as usual. The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections.

Benediction: ‘May We Live the Spirit of Pride’ by Elizabeth Ketcham (adapted)

We’ve just got our closing words and music now. So I invite you to select gallery view at this point, if you can, so we can all see each other and get a sense of our gathered community as we close.

With gratitude for the freedom to be our true authentic selves,
may we live the Spirit of Pride.

With the courage that comes from challenging fear,
may we live the Spirit of Pride.

With sorrow for those who are not here with us,
may we live the Spirit of Pride.

Looking ahead to the justice still withheld,
may we live the Spirit of Pride.

With the confidence that a sense of community
banishes isolation and loneliness,
may we live the Spirit of Pride.

With a renewed sense of solidarity across our differences
celebrating our diversity with one voice,
may we live the Spirit of Pride.

With the rainbow flag flying high,
a sense of beloved community among us,
and the joy that comes from making connections,
may we live the Spirit of Pride.

And may it be so for the greater good of all. Amen.

Closing Music: ‘One Voice’ performed by Marilisa Valtazanou

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

3rd July 2022