Dear Pride,

It’s that time of year again when we don our cut-off jeans, put on our muscle shirts that show

off the countless hours we spend at the gym, and clink our cocktails in honor of you as we march down the street chanting, “We’re here, we’re queer, get used to it.” Well, I think that still happens. I’m not entirely sure, as I’ve taken a step back from these activities because you don’t seem to represent what you once did.

These days, it seems to be one big party where people drink excessive amounts of alcohol, pop a few “extra happy pills,” and strut around in clothes their mothers would probably frown upon. What happened to the days when you meant something? Like Christmas, people seem to have lost sight of the true meaning of what you once stood for.

When you first came onto the scene some fifty-six years ago, you were about honoring the anniversary of the Stonewall riots, an event that marked the beginning of the Gay Rights Movement. Yes, I’m calling it the Gay Rights Movement because that’s what it was. Our elders wanted to honor those who started the fight for equality the year before, and in doing so, you came into existence. You were born out of a need to be accepted and respected.

While you may have originated in New York, you were soon being celebrated in Los Angeles, Chicago, and, of course, San Francisco by those who wanted to honor and be part of the same struggle and celebrate the same hard-fought progress. Over the years, you expanded to other cities, large and small. The old days of living in shame and fear were no longer acceptable.

You allowed us to live our lives as we were truly meant to: out and proud of who we are. We demanded respect. We demanded equality. We demanded acknowledgment of who we love without the disdain society so often placed upon us.

In time you would become synonymous with the LGBTQ community itself. When people hear your name, they instantly knew who you represent. These days however, your message seems to have become lost on those who were not around when you first entered the world.

You no longer appear to be about the fight for respect. Instead, you often seem to be about sponsorships.

Corporations who once shunned you, refused to acknowledge your existence, or support you, suddenly realized you represented an untapped market. These same companies that once despised you did an about-face, wrapped themselves in rainbow flags, and we happily handed over our money to them. Yet, as soon as the month celebrating you was over, they faded into the background for the next eleven months until it was time for you to take center stage again.

Today, your marches are filled with floats sponsored by the very companies who claim to support you. In order to grab our attention, they are adorned with scantily clad boys who spend countless hours at the gym building muscles to attract other scantily clad muscle queens. They throw trinkets and goodies from their corporate sponsors while the true meaning of the march often feels buried beneath this spectacle.

Now, don't get me wrong. There should absolutely be a celebration. Pride should be joyful. It should be loud. It should be a chance to show the world who we are and remind them there are more of us than they think. But this celebration should not replace purpose. We should be celebrating what Pride means, not forgetting why it exists in the first place.

Will we ever return to that?

In a time when our community is once again under attack by people who believe we should not exist; we need to come together and reclaim the true meaning of your existence. We need to demand equality and freedom for all members of our community. We need to show the world that we exist in all forms, all colors, all ages, and all walks of life—not just those dancing on floats and showing off their muscles.

Do you think that’s possible, or has your true meaning been forgotten? Do you think it will ever return?

Love,

Still Prideful