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I recognize that Pride today is a crucial symbol for many LGBTQIA+ people that indicates we do belong in a society that is largely not accepting of us. In previous generations, such visibility did not exist, which is a positive sign that some attitudes, at least, have changed. But like so many things in U.S. society and around the world, the distance between the rhetoric of Pride and its reality is substantial.
Pride’s rhetoric may be of liberation, but the reality of Pride is both affirming for some and hollow for many others. I will admit, I do find it heartening to see greater numbers of LGBTQIA+ people represented in media, politics, and other institutions. I cannot deny that representation matters. But while Pride provides a needed forum for especially cisgender gay representation, we need to stop kidding ourselves out it being as inclusive as it needs to be, including for LGBTQIA+ people.
Pride Month can be difficult for many, including those whom it is supposed to represent. For those LGBTQIA+ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, and asexual/aromantic) people who feel like they belong at the main Pride events—often white, wealthy, able-bodied, thin, cisgender gay men—this may not seem a problem. But for those of us who are marginalized on multiple levels, including within such communities, Pride is a corporate spectacle that has nothing to do with liberation or justice.
Pride events began after the Stonewall uprisings of 1969—which, to be clear, were started by Black trans women in resistance to police brutality and harassment of LGBTQIA+ people. It’s truly amazing, though in some ways unsurprising, how much Pride events have morphed in the last few decades. Pride parades today are often dominated by corporations and politicians co-opting LGBTQIA+ causes and dollars for their benefit, not ours.
Given the roots of Pride events in Stonewall, many have raised the issue of cops at Pride, and to be honest, I side with those who argue that cops should not be at Pride. Not only was Pride started in response to police brutality, but the police do not make our communities safer, especially for people of color in LGBTQIA+ communities. I may be insulated from being victimized by racism as a white person (or, more accurately, as a person constructed as white), but I can still stand with communities of color and allies who believe in finding alternative solutions to a system rooted in racism—and no, the existence of cops who are people of color does not change systemic racism.
As other authors marginalized in LGBTQIA+ communities have written, Pride is a site that reproduces the Othering of those who don’t fit normative definitions of what it means to be queer; in other words, as Aaron Talley wrote in a 2014 essay, “Gay Pride Is for White People,” (published at MUSED magazine, no longer online, but the text is available here), though Talley acknowledges that a person marginalized as an Other in LGBTQIA+ communities need not be marginalized by race to be Othered and to find Pride events, well, boring, as well as oppressive.
I’ve encountered the same sentiment from queer disabled people, trans people, queer people of color, and any number of people marginalized within queer communities: Pride is not for us. I’ve seen our concerns minimized and gaslit, including by cis hetero people who say we should “grateful” because we’re not in a place like Russia or Saudi Arabia getting killed for being gay.
Setting aside the ignorance of that idea, the U.S. is very much a cis-heterosexist society. Notice I don’t use the word “homophobic”: anybody and any system can fear or dislike LGBTQIA+ people, but not everyone benefits from a system that privileges heterosexuals and heterosexuality.
Pride matters, including to LGBTQIA+ people who hope that we can belong in a safe society. The problem is that such a society doesn’t exist, and while I acknowledge that Pride parades and other events can direct money to LGBTQIA+ causes and businesses, such events also perpetuate a normative lens on capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchy, and, yes, heterosexism and cissexism.
I’ve long found that cis hetero folks celebrate Pride more than a lot of us, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. I’m not at all against cis hetero people being at Pride, but when Pride events seem to be more for their partying than for reflecting and moving forward on liberation, a lot needs to change.
Personally, as a gay man who is disabled, is overweight, has struggled with mental illness, and does not drink or do drugs, Pride events aren’t just not for me; they’re actively toxic environments for some who may need the affirmation of Pride the most. Gratefully, I have an accepting community of LGBTQIA+ friends who abstain from drugs and alcohol, and I will be spending time with them to go against my tendencies to isolate during Pride.
I don’t know how to make Pride events more immediately inclusive and more in the service of queer liberation, but I know that what many call rainbow capitalism will never be the answer to the problem of LGBTQIA+ oppression. Token parade representation of trans people, people of color, and/or disabled people is not the answer either. I don’t know how to shift centuries of oppression from the intersectional systems that uphold white supremacy, capitalism, heterosexism, sexism, cissexism, ableism, and other forms of privilege/oppression need into a positive, equitable future for all of us, but I, for one, am realizing that I need to do more to combat institutionalized hate.
For me, writing, reading, and actively listening to those with marginalized and oppressed perspectives while taking sides are the first things that I can do. But I doubt Pride is generally a place for listening to those of us who “should” belong there and don’t.
So, a friendly reminder: Pride events are not brought to you by banks and cops and are more often for cis hetero people than for those they claim to serve. If you celebrate Pride, I will certainly respect that, but I encourage you to listen to and learn from those of us who aren’t there—and reflect critically on why that is.
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From a South African perspective…It’s less about corporates. We’re probably more in the early phase of corporates getting on board. Most do little or nothing. Some are more prominent. Pride is celebrated in February rather than June, similar to the practice in Australia. I understand this is because it’s LGBTQI+ History month. And, more importantly, June is in the middle of winter. (For Cape Town, SA’s equivalent of SF, that means lots of rain.) However, the corporates in SA that do anything for Pride, for example, have their campaigns around June. One supermarket chain still has their allyship rainbows up… Read more »