For Those Who Couldn't: Celebrating Pride

Photo by Tristan B. on Unsplash

Pride is a rebellion. The older I’ve gotten the clearer this has become. At first, to me, it was simply a celebration. An expression of queer joy. Running around a confetti-littered parade, starring in awe at the beautiful faces in the community I hold so dear. I felt nothing but happiness and I thought, this is Pride. And yes, it’s a big part of it. But then we hit the protesters. I knew they existed, but in 2018, at my first Pride, this is what shocked me more than anything. Signs riddled with vitriol saying things like “God Sent AIDS to Kill You”. Spewing hatred the likes of which I’d never seen. 

But we ignored them. Everyone ignored them. They were a footnote to the celebration, a moment of drizzle on an otherwise sunny day. I think it clicked right then, though I didn’t have the words to express it just yet, how much of a rebellion Pride is. To simply exist despite those screaming that you shouldn’t. To experience joy, despite all the laws and liars and evil, disguised as love begging you to be miserable. It is rebellious. It is brave. It is staring at the face of the very thing that wants you dead and laughing, because in the end, their idiocy won’t stop you from being happy. 

Not everyone can say that. My father’s brother passed away during the AIDS epidemic. That alone is heartbreaking, made all the worse by the world he was navigating at the time. One so cruel and hateful that he felt this disease was punishment. When I saw that sign I saw my uncle. Walking around and seeing all these lovely people decorated in brilliant colors, I saw the life he should’ve been living. And I saw the ignorance that made helping people like my uncle taboo. It’s not what killed him, someone’s idiocy, but it certainly didn’t help. There was a painful ripple of pure hatred that shot through me at the sight of that sign. At the idiot holding it. It’s easy to pretend, like I had at that moment, that those words don’t matter. 

“Shade never made anybody less gay,” right? And there’s validity to all of that. But there’s also the darker side. Yes, no amount of brainwashing or religious hatred changes who you are, but it instills in you a belief that who you are is wrong. It convinces you that you don’t deserve the life you want. And in fact, you’re even more disgusting for wanting it. For wanting happiness, for wanting love, for wanting to live. It impacts laws. People with those harmful beliefs get elected, and in an effort to maybe tamp down their own feelings or control others, they speak hatred and ignorance to power. 

Did you know that according to FBI findings in 2022, “More than 1 in 5 of any type of hate crime is now motivated by anti-LGBTQ+ bias”? That year, the number of LGBTQIA+ hate crimes rose by 13.8%, “and a shocking 32.9% jump in reported hate crimes based on gender identity.” That is terrifying. In general, transgender individuals have it much harder in this country. According to a study done by the UCLA School of Law, “81% of transgender adults in the U.S. have thought about suicide, 42% of transgender adults have attempted it.” Those are staggering numbers, and yet that’s not at all surprising. Some states even report that statistic is closer to 50%. These are not just theoretical numbers. These are real lives. 

Celebrating Pride now, I see my best friend from childhood. A hilariously silly, talented artist, and a beautiful soul who, due to mental health reasons, was taken far too soon. I wish so desperately they did not fit into that statistic, but unfortunately, that is not the case. In their later years, they identified as they/him. And listen, if you knew them growing up, this made wayyyy too much sense. I saw them in their titles, in this community. I still see them. They had to navigate depression, severe mental health struggles, and gender dysphoria in Texas. In a state that, as great as it is, is rife with ignorant people and hateful messaging. It’s all around us. In their religious upbringing, in the “well-intentioned” people who chastised us for dancing together at the 8th-grade dance, in the laws that have come to take away so many of our rights. 

There is a forever-pain rooted so far deep in me that I don’t think I’ll ever get it out for the life they should have gotten to live.

And it’s like I’m looking at that awful sign all over again, because yes, idiotic people aren’t the reason my friend isn’t here, but they certainly didn’t help. And every day amazing people, beautiful and brilliant and incredible souls are being taken from this world because words do matter. Hatred does make a difference. That’s what’s disgusting. That’s what’s harming kids. Pride is a rebellion because it’s taking horrific ideals we have been surrounded by forever and telling them to go to hell. 

Camila at NYC Pride 2018.

That despite it all you are here. You are queer. And you exist. I want everyone reading this to feel pride this year. Whoever you are, you’ve heard hateful words, lived through uncomfortable scenarios, and overcome so much. That deserves to be celebrated. Pride is so much more than just your own journey, it’s embedded in this community. Please, go out and live for the generations before you who couldn’t. Feel pride for those who are going through too much right now to feel it for themselves. Because I am proud every single day of my uncle and my friend.