CELEBRATING PRIDE

June is Pride month, celebrating LGBTQ+ heritage, identity, and love. While much partying and positivity happens, it is also a time to pause and reflect on who we are and where we’ve come from.

Note: I use the terms queer, gay, homosexual, and LGBTQ interchangeably to refer to any person who is not heterosexual or cisgendered.

Time to read: 6:09

I am an out and proud gay man.

            It took me most of my life (and I’m fifty-seven) to be comfortable enough to say that in public. It still feels awkward. Not because I’m not proud of who I am, but because I’m still unsure of how people might react. As adults, we’re not supposed to care about what other people think about us, but we do, especially when the opinions come from people we care about, have to interact with regularly, or who have power over us. Or when we fear for our safety and security.

            There were places and times in world history where same-sex love was accepted as a simple variation of the human experience. While marriage between two people of the same sex may not have been common or even allowed, same-sex relationships still existed openly. I reckon people who did not fit the heterosexual, cisgendered expectations of their times were more or less left alone in those cultures.

Then along came the Jews, followed by the Christians, and then the Muslims, who brought a violent attitude toward any sort of love that wasn’t between a man and a woman (or women; Judaism and Islam both practiced polygamy, and many Muslims still do). Not the religions as a whole, mind you, but the patriarchal power-mongers who wielded religious laws like weapons to subjugate women, children, the poor, slaves, and homosexuals and transgendered people. The latter two, in particular, were seen as worthy of nothing but death. And woe to the homosexual or transgendered person who did not benefit from the privilege of color or socio-economic status.

            The U.S. especially has a complicated history with how it treats queer people. I don’t know if anyone has ever received the death penalty for simply being queer, but plenty of queer people have been murdered simply for who they are. The struggle for gay rights has long existed, but one of the first organized approaches began in December 1924, when Henry Gerber founded the Society for Human Rights in Chicago. Sadly the Society soon disbanded “…due to political pressure.” (https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/stonewall-milestones-american-gay-rights-movement/).

            More than twenty-five years later, Harry Hays founded the Mattachine Society in Los Angeles to change public perceptions of homosexuality, especially to “…cultivate the notion of an ethical homosexual culture.” (ibid).

            The 1950s were fraught with anti-homosexual policies and practices. Almost 5,000 gay men and women were discharged from the military or fired from their government jobs for being gay. The American Psychiatric Association classified homosexuality as a mental disorder. Homosexuals were banned from federal government employment by executive order.

            But not everything from the 1950s was bad for queer people. A paper written by psychologist Evelyn Hooker convinced many clinicians to change their views toward homosexuality. And the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of the First Amendment rights of a queer-centric publication, One: The Homosexual Magazine.

            Queer people began to feel more emboldened to express their identities in the 1960s counter-culture movement. But it was the Stonewall Riots in June of 1969, when angry gay youth and drag queens protested police brutality and harassment toward queer people, that brought the gay rights movement to national attention. And that’s why we celebrate Pride every June.

            A lot has happened since then. Queer people advanced in civic leadership positions, states passed anti-discrimination legislation, mainline churches began to welcome queer people, the U.S. military abolished their “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, and finally, in 2015, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that it is unconstitutional to prohibit marriage rights to same-sex couples.

            We’ve come a long way in gay rights and inclusion, but we still have a long way to go. There are many communities in the U.S. where gay people are harassed, stigmatized, and ostracized. Many businesses and schools discriminate against queer people. LGBTQ people are victims of hate crimes. Trans women of color are murdered at horrifying rates. Families still kick their queer children to the curb. Many faith communities still refuse to include queer people in the full life of their congregations. And the list goes on.

            We might compare the struggles of the LGBTQ community to those of BIPOC (black, indigenous, and people of color) communities. While there are certainly similarities that help LGBTQ and BIPOC people empathize with each other, the struggles of LGBTQ folk are unique. I doubt any black people have been kicked out of their families simply for being black. I don’t think any brown people have been excommunicated from their faith communities for simply being brown. Have any people of Asian descent been discharged from the military or fired from their jobs for simply being Asian?

            And how many black religious leaders have called for the death penalty for homosexuality? How many brown priests have put gay people in the same category as those who sexually abuse children and animals? How many Asian and Latino families have rejected their LGBTQ children? How many minority business owners have denied employment to a well-qualified candidate just because he or she was queer? How many BIPOC people have used an anti-gay slur or told a mean-spirited joke about gay or trans people? What about anti-gay rap lyrics?

            And to be fair, the LGBTQ community’s treatment of our BIPOC brothers and sisters hasn’t been stellar. We have discriminated based on color, gender expression, and sex; we have fetishized black men, Latinos, and Asian men. I can only speak from the gay man’s experience, but I assume the lesbian community has had its share of discriminatory practices, as well.

            But now is not the time for oppressed people to oppress each other. Now is the time for all people—gay and straight; white and BIPOC; Christian and otherwise; able-bodied and differently abled; men and women and nonbinary folk; everyone—to come together and stand with and for each other. The horror of police brutality against black people must end. The imprisonment of brown people seeking life and safety must end. Allowing poor homeless people to suffer a long, lingering death on our streets must end. White supremacism must end. Toxic masculinity must end. Ethnocentrism and xenophobia must end. The hoarding of wealth acquired by the labor of the poor must end.

Rights for one is rights for all. Justice for one is justice for all. Empowerment for one is empowerment for all. United we stand; divided, we all fall.

            So this June, let’s all take pride in who we are: our beautiful, polychromatic colors; our many gender expressions; our infinite varieties of abilities and talents; the different ways we all make efforts to connect to the loving Divine; the many sizes we represent; and the people we love, and our efforts to love them to the best of our abilities. Pride is a celebration, and while we still have struggles and battles ahead, let’s honor who we are and what we’ve accomplished.