Creating A ‘Culture Shift’ One Player At A Time 

Brock McGillis remembers the moment he discovered a group of teenage hockey players he was coaching in off-ice skills development in his Canadian hometown of Sudbury, Ontario, were in on his dreaded lifelong secret.

As a former junior-level, college and professional player, McGillis had concealed his homosexuality from the hockey world, telling only his closest family and friends. So, he was shocked when a “hockey mom” phoned to set him up on a date with another man, informing him his players already knew he was gay. McGillis was even more shocked the players didn’t seem to mind.

“I was afraid they wouldn’t want to work with me if they knew I was gay,” he said. “But I came to find out they all knew. And I started observing their behaviors and anytime they said something homophobic, they’d freeze up and apologize to me.

“And I thought ‘Oh, maybe we’re creating a shift.’”

That moment served as the impetus for McGillis, 41, eventually coming out in November 2016 as the first openly gay former pro hockey player. He’s since become a champion for LGBT+ inclusion within the sport and has broadened his efforts with a “Culture Shift Tour” tour that recently wrapped up its Canadian leg by visiting 140 youth hockey teams over 87 days.

McGillis last week launched the tour’s U.S. leg with a Kraken Community Iceplex visit organized by the One Roof Foundation in which he met with the team’s various Kraken Hockey League youth squads and staff. The powerful and inspiring event went well beyond LGBTQ+ advocacy: Underscoring ORF’s commitment to inclusion and mindful language by teaching players simple skills on becoming “Shiftmakers” by “standing up” for teammates in situations of wrongdoing of any kind.

“This is for the straight white kid who’s being bullied because they have a lisp or stutter,” McGillis said. “Or just being bullied because they have acne and don’t want to go to the rink. Or the indigenous kid who’s tired of the jokes. Or, the Black kid who pretends they’re OK with it and actually hates it. Or, the gay kid who can’t be themselves and they’re hiding.

“It’s for all of them and we’ve been able to foster an environment where they recognize it,” he added. “And when you socially re-engineer the way (hockey players) look at being tough – it actually takes courage to change things. It takes real courage.”

McGillis admittedly never felt he could be himself in locker rooms during a goaltending career that took him to Windsor and Sault Ste. Marie in the Ontario Hockey League, then the mid-level pro Kalamazoo Wings of the United Hockey League, a pro team in The Netherlands, and Concordia University in Montreal. So, he’d pretend to be somebody else, becoming “hard-partying” and “cocky” and even “a womanizer” to maintain his ruse amid locker room homophobia. Eventually, he was drinking extensively and contemplating suicide as he realized his entire life was a lie.

“I hated myself,” he said.

McGillis doesn’t want anyone else going through that. And he feels by “humanizing” his ordeal, players will better police locker room slurs and abuse and be ready to stand up for vulnerable teammates.

“It’s about courage,” he said. “It’s about being brave. Because when I talk about different ways people can create ‘shifts’ I talk about humanizing situations. When you put a face to somebody, it becomes more real.”

Part of reaching players involves getting them to understand their behavior. McGillis said players in locker rooms will often laugh at jokes in poor taste simply to “go along” -- feeling they’ll be singled out and become new bully targets if they don’t.

McGillis will tell players: “Let me get this straight. You call yourselves a family, or brothers, or sisters. But you’re laughing at stuff you don’t find funny because you’re afraid somebody from that ‘family’ is going to bully you? That’s pretty messed up.”

And by not joining in with fake laughs, he added, the laughter and bad jokes will eventually stop altogether.

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s racism, homophobia, misogyny, bullying, or mental health,” he said. “It’s humanizing issues and the environment you create.”

McGillis had a firsthand glimpse of such dynamics and the ability to create “shifts” of real change soon after the stunning discovery his teenage players in Sudbury already knew he was gay. He struggled to interpret what their continued attendance at his off-ice training sessions meant: Hoping they simply liked his work and accepted him as just another hockey player.

“I thought maybe I was just one of the guys,” he said. “I go on the ice, and I chirp them. I go in the gym and I out-bench-press all of them – and please put that last part in the story because I think it’s important to hear that.

“But the reality was, I didn’t know. They could have been going to school, the rink or anyplace else and calling people slurs.”

Until one day, when a visiting sprint coach was working some of his players out on an adjacent track. At the end of the workout, the coach told them they still had 10 more sprints remaining and a younger player piped up “This is so gay!” to express annoyance.

McGillis recalls how an older, NHL-drafted OHL player immediately chided: “We don’t say that here. Give me 50 push-ups.”

The younger player complied.

“And that became something my athletes adopted amongst themselves,” McGillis said. “And then they used their influence as hockey players and brought the pushups with them wherever they went. So, it became about how these small little shifts can make a difference.

“That guy, that day was a ‘Shiftmaker’.”

And McGillis remains optimistic about that message even in what’s become a more politically charged North American society, where tolerance appears on the wane and skepticism mounts over Pride-themed public events and other symbolism in the name of promoting inclusion.

McGillis has no problem with others displaying pride for communities. But the Shiftmakers tour, he said, is targeting people who might not necessarily align with that.

“I don’t care about rainbows,” he said. “I don’t care about any of that stuff. I haven’t seen a rainbow eradicate homophobia. I haven’t seen any of this stuff really foster a more welcoming environment in a locker room for anybody. So, I take an approach that’s completely different.”

His approach, essentially, is for “the straight, white kid as much as it is for the gay kid.

“Or, it’s for the straight white adults as much as it’s the LGBTQ person or the BIPOC person, etcetera, etcetera. It's about fostering environments where everybody can exist, and nobody feels like they can’t.”

And change, he said, will only happen by reaching those inclined to dismiss it. By getting locker room antagonists to understand actions have consequences; and that it’s “cooler” and “braver” to stand up for teammates than allow them to be openly or even silently bullied.

“For me, it’s about having the courage,” he said. “And they’re already doing that in hockey locker rooms. We know is a pretty conservative space.”

Steering clear of politics is key, he said, toward reaching common ground. McGillis feels that “unless they’re a sociopath” most people inherently don’t want to intentionally hurt others.

“I think sometimes, when we’ve talked about issues, whether it’s bullying or inclusion in any way it’s become very rigid,” he said. “And I think that’s a huge mistake and that leads to the polarization of a lot of this stuff.”

There’s only been one player he can remember in two years of touring ever outright resisting what he had to say and refusing to listen. Instead, when he’s engaged directly with players, almost all do connect along human terms and accept the message being delivered.

“So, it’s no different to me whether Donald Trump is in office, or Joe Biden, or whether we’re in Canada, where it’s far more liberal,” he said. “Frankly, sometimes groups get away from doing actual tangible things to foster welcoming environments. They think they can just tick a box because it’s a Democratic president versus a Donald Trump. And I hate the performative crap.”

McGillis recalled visiting a hockey academy last year that featured several Eastern European players billeting with Canadian families. A lot of the Russian players, he said, didn’t want to even attend until the academy mandated it.

At the beginning of his talk, McGillis called the team’s Russian captain up.

“I went to shake his hand and he pulled away – he didn’t even want to touch me because I was gay,” McGillis said. “So, whatever. I kept my hand extended, I looked him right in the eyes, and eventually, begrudgingly, he shook my hand. A little later, I made a joke and they all laughed.”

McGillis tries to keep things light and funny whenever he speaks. He wants people to “have a good time” and not feel lectured to.

“As a marginalized person, I think we sometimes tend to push people away from issues,” he said. “Because if they don’t get everything perfect, we call them them ‘bigots’. And I don’t agree with that. I don’t think it works. It’s like: ‘You want me to support you and you’re sitting here calling me names.’ The logic was a little flawed.”

But McGillis’s message isn’t: That even a small “shift” in attitude can make a huge difference for others. He doesn’t care what people think of him or his lifestyle choices so long as the message resonates.

“I can show them the impact of language and how their behavior resonates,” he said. “But in the end, they have to follow their own moral compass. And hopefully, they make the right choice.”