Monday Musing (On An Historic Pride March)

My husband and I took the ferry into San Francisco yesterday morning for the Pride March. The ferry from Vallejo was packed in equal parts with Giants fans (big game) and Pride celebrants.  A heady mixture.

In line for the ferry, we spoke to various groups of people: het couples with kids, lesbians, gay men, and who knows who else.

The ferry is a glorious one hour ride down from Vallejo at the north tip of the SF Bay to the San Francisco waterfront.  Even as we left the ferry building in SF, there were ecstatic groups of young folks there to raise a ruckus and have a great time.

To use an often used phrase, the 'diversity' of the crowd was heartening.  Young and very old, pale white, to pink, to brown, to black. A delightfully yummy Neapolitan of humans.  Everyone perfectly aware of how momentous this particular celebration was.  I told a group of youngins that I was one of the folks married at City Hall back in the day when Mayor Gavin Newsome instructed county clerks to register same sex couples for marriage licenses.  I must have seemed ancient to these fresh faced youngsters.

Meanwhile, my daughter was also celebrating somewhere up the street with her pack of gal pals. I started taking my daughter to Pride parades when she was but a tot.  She loved them, and she loved the drag queens.  After a Christmas parade one year, she was sorely disappointed because there were no drag queens to be seen.  Bummer.

As I was saying to S. on the drive home, this momentous decision by the Supreme Court would not have been possible if it were not for the huge outpouring of love and support from allies of the LGBT community.  After all, we're only an estimated 10 percent of the population.  How in the world could we do this on our own?  This is why:  very, very brave men and women stood up and said, "I will not be invisible."  I will not go quietly and shamefully into your police vans, handcuffed and humiliated.

Can you imagine the courage of the very first marchers?  In my own community of Santa Cruz, the first parades were very small and were met with a fair amount of derision from on-lookers.  At the time I thought, "Why bother?  You just get a lot of grief thrown at  you."  What I didn't realize at the time was, they 'bothered' because they wanted to increase the visibility of queer people and to shout to the world that they were proud of who they were.

These many years later, their hard work and bravery has paid off.  Their visibility increased the support of straight people.  Together, we all made this day possible.  In my life time.  As we prepare for the foolishness and hate from those who believe the court has gone off the rails, it's important to remember that love has prevailed.  Love is stronger than hate. 

The work will go on.  We are closer to the finish line than we were before.  We're not at the finish line.  We have a long way to go to live up to our nation's promise of justice for all.

"There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires."  

-- Nelson Mandela.

This was my husband's first Pride parade.  He had a blast.  I feel fortunate to be with such a loving human being.  Thanks, Honey.