Lessons Learned From the NYC Gay Pride Parade
Posted:
07/8/09
"This younger generation takes itself very seriously," the announcer proclaimed over the crowd assembled at Fifth Avenue and Eighth Street in Greenwich Village to watch the annual NYC Gay Pride Parade on June 28. I wasn't sure what to make of the comment.
Sure, on the one hand, I watched teenagers in Speedos with glittered hair do backflips down Fifth Avenue. But on the other, some of my friends' unexpected and thought-provoking comments from earlier that day still rang in my ears.
My friends would not be attending the march, they told me. "There's no pride in that," they'd said, referring to what they saw as outlandish costumes and behavior. Themselves members of the LGBT community, they were nervous about supporting an event they felt only served to reinforce stereotypes. None of us had ever been to a Pride Parade, and, in their minds, the whole event was associated with men and women scantily clad in rainbow attire. "It is disgusting that some people, whose movement I am lumped into, will be running around in jockstraps and butterfly wings," a friend lamented.
In the end, though, curiosity won out. It was with this skepticism that we found our places among the other spectators, watching as thousands of marchers took to the streets. I would be lying if I said there were no butterfly wings. But also present was an incredible reverence for the originators of this movement, and more importantly, a sense of camaraderie that even my friends who had sought to distance themselves from the Spandex couldn't escape.
In a great show of multigenerational unity, the float carrying veterans of the Stonewall Riots was closely followed by that of the East Village's Harvey Milk High School. "You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them," the announcer reminded the students. "Now we're relying on you. Do the work." And although both generations are faced with obstacles, it is the differences between these generations that speaks to the future of this movement.
According to Bill Schneider, CNN senior political analyst, a recent poll suggests that "young voters strongly favor marriage equality. They're the future of American politics." But for those of us in this "young voters" group, it is tempting to become complacent, believing with youthful certainty that an overall trend and our growing influence can only result, in the long run, in our desired change. When the announcer tells us to "do the work," it is easy to shrug it off when you are continually surrounded by like-minded young people.
Living in a city like New York, or on most college campuses across the country, makes it especially easy to be lulled into a false sense of security. "This younger generation" did not experience the Stonewall Riots commemorated during last Sunday's parade. For us, AIDS is not a mystery plague striking our closest loved ones, but rather, something we learn about in our junior high health classes. Same-sex couples can now marry in six states, and my gay friends have the strange luxury of being more concerned about jockstraps and butterfly wings than right-wing pundits outwardly preaching discrimination on television.
It is difficult for us to imagine condemning the joy apparent on the faces of the marchers, and those who simply seem out of touch. Here, we have the ability to mostly forget there are people out there who still throw glass bottles and scream slurs at my friends -- something we were all reminded of Monday as we stood in disbelief outside a cafe. A week after the parade, and I was already witnessing a group of men verbally and physically harassing my friends as we waited for a table. Where do these people come from? And more importantly, what does it mean that my friends chose to simply ignore the things being thrown at them from across the street? The men shouted, "What are you going to do now?" My friends' dismissive silence answered their question.
These painful experiences remind us there is still a lot of work to be done. The students from the Harvey Milk High School may be able to ride confidently behind the Stonewall veterans, but if we forget the announcer's important call to arms, it might be awhile before the slurs and violence finally end. Unfortunately, the scariest problem is not what our opponents are saying, but the fact that we often feel confident enough to not take them seriously. So, is my generation too serious? On the contrary, I think we are not nearly serious enough.
Sure, on the one hand, I watched teenagers in Speedos with glittered hair do backflips down Fifth Avenue. But on the other, some of my friends' unexpected and thought-provoking comments from earlier that day still rang in my ears.
My friends would not be attending the march, they told me. "There's no pride in that," they'd said, referring to what they saw as outlandish costumes and behavior. Themselves members of the LGBT community, they were nervous about supporting an event they felt only served to reinforce stereotypes. None of us had ever been to a Pride Parade, and, in their minds, the whole event was associated with men and women scantily clad in rainbow attire. "It is disgusting that some people, whose movement I am lumped into, will be running around in jockstraps and butterfly wings," a friend lamented.
In the end, though, curiosity won out. It was with this skepticism that we found our places among the other spectators, watching as thousands of marchers took to the streets. I would be lying if I said there were no butterfly wings. But also present was an incredible reverence for the originators of this movement, and more importantly, a sense of camaraderie that even my friends who had sought to distance themselves from the Spandex couldn't escape. In a great show of multigenerational unity, the float carrying veterans of the Stonewall Riots was closely followed by that of the East Village's Harvey Milk High School. "You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them," the announcer reminded the students. "Now we're relying on you. Do the work." And although both generations are faced with obstacles, it is the differences between these generations that speaks to the future of this movement.
According to Bill Schneider, CNN senior political analyst, a recent poll suggests that "young voters strongly favor marriage equality. They're the future of American politics." But for those of us in this "young voters" group, it is tempting to become complacent, believing with youthful certainty that an overall trend and our growing influence can only result, in the long run, in our desired change. When the announcer tells us to "do the work," it is easy to shrug it off when you are continually surrounded by like-minded young people.
Living in a city like New York, or on most college campuses across the country, makes it especially easy to be lulled into a false sense of security. "This younger generation" did not experience the Stonewall Riots commemorated during last Sunday's parade. For us, AIDS is not a mystery plague striking our closest loved ones, but rather, something we learn about in our junior high health classes. Same-sex couples can now marry in six states, and my gay friends have the strange luxury of being more concerned about jockstraps and butterfly wings than right-wing pundits outwardly preaching discrimination on television. It is difficult for us to imagine condemning the joy apparent on the faces of the marchers, and those who simply seem out of touch. Here, we have the ability to mostly forget there are people out there who still throw glass bottles and scream slurs at my friends -- something we were all reminded of Monday as we stood in disbelief outside a cafe. A week after the parade, and I was already witnessing a group of men verbally and physically harassing my friends as we waited for a table. Where do these people come from? And more importantly, what does it mean that my friends chose to simply ignore the things being thrown at them from across the street? The men shouted, "What are you going to do now?" My friends' dismissive silence answered their question.
These painful experiences remind us there is still a lot of work to be done. The students from the Harvey Milk High School may be able to ride confidently behind the Stonewall veterans, but if we forget the announcer's important call to arms, it might be awhile before the slurs and violence finally end. Unfortunately, the scariest problem is not what our opponents are saying, but the fact that we often feel confident enough to not take them seriously. So, is my generation too serious? On the contrary, I think we are not nearly serious enough.