Remembering the birth of Pride and what it stands for

Pride is officially here! The weather might just now feel like summer in Denver, but it is now the seventh day of June, which means we are a week into celebrating Pride Month.

But, as we pop bottles, throw on our crop tops, paint our nails, and stock up on lube we can’t forget where Pride began or what it stands for …

It’s a common misconception that the gay rights movement began with the queers outside of Stonewall throwing bricks and declaring, “We aren’t taking anymore of your shit!”

In reality, early queer organizations had been forming for years prior to the Stonewall Riots. During the 1960s, groups like Mattachine Society, Daughters of Bilitis, and One Inc. were rallying people in cities scattered across the US. People were already picketing outside of the White House, Independence Hall in Philadelphia, and multiple bars across the nation — protesting the police raids they were subjected to.

These early efforts are most often forgotten due to the lack of collective power of queers. These were local demonstrations help by regional groups. But, we shouldn’t write off the base work these brave individuals put in place for us.

On June 28, 1969 all of that changed. As police raided the Stonewall Inn, which was a refuge for queers in NYC, they sparked an outrage that was heard around the nation.

For years our queer predecessors lived in fear. Fear of meeting the wrong person on the street and being harassed, beaten, or killed. They were forced out of their homes by the people who are supposed to love them unconditionally. They were subjected to torturous conversion therapies. They were treated like dirt, and they had enough.

“We were tired of being targets of manipulation and exploitation; tired of being maggot excuses for raids upon our assembly, tired of being someone else’s scapegoat for some other reason. Tired of being threatened and harassed and entrapped and told what we were, what to do, and how to do it, when to do it, how to feel, what to say, how to be, what to be..ya can’t be it outside, nor can you inside! We rioted because rich, or poor, young or old, we dared to be ourselves. We wanted to be ourselves, to be, to laugh and play in joy! We rioted to be gay.” — Christopher Street Liberation Day Committee member, 1974

The brave people at Stonewall on that night fought back. Tired of the endless mistreatment and systematic oppression that queer people faced, they picked up bricks and started a revolution. The impact of these bricks sent tremors all throughout the nation. Thier chants were heard thousands of miles away. The fires they started in garbage cans were seen as flares to the rest of our community signaling the time to fight is now.

Suddenly, the small local movements formed into one national fight for equality. But, recreating riots was never on the gay agenda. Instead, queer leaders across the nation decided that a peaceful march was the best direction to go.

On November 2, 1969, at the Eastern Regional Conference of Homophile Organizations in Philadelphia, the first pride march was proposed by way of a resolution. The Christopher Street Liberation Day march was then held in New York City on June 28, 1970, marking the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots with an assembly on Christopher Street and a march covering the 51 blocks to Central Park.

That first parade in NYC drew thousands of people into the streets proudly marching as a community that was filled with love, rage, and most of all pride.

Today, we still take to the streets in June and proudly declare that we are gay, lesbian, transgender, bisexual, gender nonconforming, queer people. Over the year we have fought many battles — and even won some — but we are still fighting to live authentic lives.

The fight we started decades ago still rages on. However, the momentum that we’ve built for years has been slowly dwindling. People stopped being angry, and this is something we can not afford.

We are still an oppressed minority that faces discrimination, hatred, violence, and even death. If we want this to change, we have to continue our fight and show solidarity within the queer community. We have to realize that some are much more privileged than others. Those privileged are resting,  but when we ignore the marginalized in our own community we are sending ourselves back to the days when small groups tried to change the world. We’ve lost our solidarity.

The only way for queers to continue to gain rights and change the minds of those outside our community is to stand together, and maybe start a few fires every once in awhile.