I spent a good chunk of water cooler time at work Monday answering the question, “So, how was Pride?” – which seems to be the July equivalent of, “What did you get for Christmas?” My answer is usually some combination of: “Had a blast,” “The fill-in-the-blank party was awesome,” or “You should come next year.”
That last part is critical to me, because I believe Pride is the most inclusive celebration in San Diego, or anywhere else. Most holidays have some level of exclusion built in. Christmas is limited to Christians. Saint Patrick’s Day is hard to get excited about unless you’re Irish or like green beer. Even the Fourth of July is implicitly about defeating the British (though they seem to have gotten over it). The LGBT community may have created Pride, but the message, “Be proud of who you are, whoever you are” applies to everyone, straight or LGBT. It was “Festivus for the rest of us” long before Seinfeld.
So, I find it disappointing when people “don’t feel comfortable at Pride,” or even dislike it. The arguments never change: “My kids shouldn’t have to see that”; “Other groups can’t get away with that much sex”; “It glorifies perpetual adolescence.” I’ve heard them from detractors, allies, LGBT parents and generally supportive politicians. They want a “family friendly” Pride, scrubbed of anything someone could find offensive, messaged to straight allies.
From a political perspective, those arguments can seem tempting. Pride is the LGBT community’s most visible moment, and our best chance to market to, or dare I say recruit, voters. Why not clean it up? I used to struggle a bit with this, but like Pride itself, I’ve evolved a little.
I’m tired of the oft perpetuated notion that straight people could never get a permit for a parade with as much skin and sex as Pride. Bull. They have one. It’s called Mardi Gras, and the repackaged St. Patrick’s Day isn’t far behind. Not only are the costumes on the floats as revealing as Pride’s, but the goal is to get the crowd to take their shirts off.
Pride doesn’t have more sex; it has same-sex. It only seems like more because people, even some in our own community, aren’t inured to it from constant media exposure. As to messaging, “Enjoy your youth and beauty before it fades” isn’t really that different than “Let’s have one last party before Lent.”
It is true that other parades don’t have men in leather chaps or dykes on bikes. So what? They are a proud part of our community. We don’t have middle-aged men with Fez’s riding small cars (unless I missed them Saturday). As neither Shriners nor leather were an evolutionary threat, children are only scared of them if their parents, or society, taught them to be. What is more family friendly than a chance to teach children not to hate?
As our publisher mentioned last issue, Pride has changed to meet the needs of our community. But certain core principles must be honored, regardless of political expediency. Sadly, too many have focused on the party, and not the history, as evidenced by recent activists who were frustrated that Pride celebrations in Chicago, New York and San Francisco were getting in the way of the national Stonewall memorial they wanted to plan (true story). If Jesus is the “reason for the season,” Stonewall is the “guide to our Pride.” The message must remain “this is who we are and we deserve equal treatment,” not “who do we need to be to make you happy.”
A parade the hides members of our community is no Pride at all. It’s as empty as a Christmas that is only about presents, or a Thanksgiving only about football.
Which is not to say that we can’t have the party. But the invitations should be clear. “Please join us for a memorial of the Stonewall riots, an expression of the LGBT community and a celebration of the individual. Children and families welcome. No need to bring gifts, just an open mind.”
