Still, it makes sense why my mother and those like her would feel apprehensive about attending a Pride festival. We want straight people to not only believe that LGBTQ people deserve the same treatment as cisgender, straight people, but to also fight for our rights as queer individuals. In fact, what we are fighting for could actually be boiled down to one thing: we want everyone who’s not a member of the LGBTQ community to become an ally. We also march for the lives of transgender women of color, who are being murdered at an alarming rate. We march to end workplace discrimination, to receive equal access to healthcare, and to serve openly in the military. It’s also a time, like it was nearly five decades ago, when we march not just for tolerance but for acceptance. Seeing a bunch of fellow queers swarm the streets - kissing loved ones in public, proudly wearing fabulously flamboyant outfits - is not only empowering, but also a reminder that while we often feel alone, the LGBTQ community exists in great numbers.
It’s a time where we congregate to experience what it’s like to be the majority in a large, public space. It’s a celebration of its diverse members. Pride’s now evolved to mean a number of things to the LGBTQ community.
