My First Pride

The West Texas wind was blowing, and the sun was sweltering, and in the corner of my eyes, I kept looking for those who would be protesting. I made eye contact with two young women wrapped in the pink and purple flag. They smiled, and I immediately thought they looked like capped crusaders. I saw a man holding his daughter's hand, and her shirt said, "I am an ally." Her dad's shirt said, "gay dad." Tears rolled down my cheeks from behind my sunglasses as I tried to compose myself as me and my boyfriend approached the gate.

This was the scene for my first Pride as an out gay man. I had gone years earlier when I worked for Starbucks. I had blended hundreds and hundreds of Frappuccinos at the booth. Today, I attended because I am PROUD of the man I am. Due to the pandemic Pride had been canceled since 2020, so my first time was delayed. No misguided evangelicals were screaming we were going to hell, even though I had prepared what I would say to them if they had shown their faces.

Me and my guy.

Just the week before, I had to admit that I wasn't 100% at peace to attend. No, not because there was one ounce of shame in me, but because there are people who live in my community who would kill for just being gay. It didn't help that weeks before; there was a thwarted terroristic attack at a pride festival in Idaho. It also didn't help that an Evangelical in Texas preached from the pulpit that homosexuals needed to be shot in the back of the head. It didn't help that a local arena church was saying to the congregation that people who were gay were groomers.

That's when I told my boyfriend that we were going, and not only were we going, but we weren't going to let terrorism stop us. That's what terrorism wants, to scare you from living your life. It's not in my character to shrink back. My church asked me to serve in their booth at the Pride festival and love on the people at the event. Let me tell you, THAT's my sweet spot. I have always been able to sit with those that were abused and terrorized by the Evangelical church. I have sat with countless people and let them work out their faith. I love people. That's not hard to do. When you have a love of Christ, you cannot help but love.

My friend Ileana from church

I know I am critical of the Evangelical church, but please understand that it's the oppressive system, not the people. It's also the systems and never the people. Although I will say Evangelical leaders need to be held accountable for the rhetoric coming out of their pulpits, it's still the system, not the person. When you're in that system, you act out of the oppression it requires. I can tell you first-hand that being in the arena church machine, you move with the crowd because you will be chastised or scrutinized by your peers. But I digress.

As we entered the Pride festival, my heart was made completely whole. I saw friends, colleagues, neighbors, high school friends, college friends, church friends (evangelical), dads, former teachers, moms, children, and so much love. All ally families with shirts said they loved you no matter what. A little girl with a shirt said, "I love both my moms." Here I was, right in the smack dab middle of my community. I was so overwhelmed. I was so happy. I was so energized to move the ball forward for our community. I have been an activist my whole life. In fact, it was the way my mother raised me. The festival was set up to have the main stage and a smaller stage. The drag acts were famously great, but the smaller stage has some really great talent. The food trucks, and the vendors being there made you really see who in your community was there to love! I met so many new people, and I made new friends. I so appreciate having a safe family-friendly space for queer people to meet together. Kudos to the organizers.

I stood in my church's booth and thought to myself, what an incredible life I am living. True love of Christ moments, restoring people's hopes in the faith they felt had betrayed them. I hugged people's necks and found them full of angst. Sure, I have done all of this before, but this authentic love, but not superficial and full of the pressure to "bring people to Christ." In other words, it was just love for loved sake. I found myself thinking about why we have Pride in the first place. I have thought about that a lot over this month. The first Pride was a riot at Stonewall in New York City. It came after a corrupt policing system attempted to arrest people for being gay.

Modern-day Pride exists to show that queer love is just love. To be visible and show that we aren't going anywhere. The irony of Evangelical people screaming that homosexuality is being shoved down their throat while sitting in their pews being taught to use the Bible to legislate is not lost on me. No one is making you gay. No one is telling you to be gay.

In fact, being gay is a small part of who I am, but since you want to use the fact that I am to take away my rights, you are forcing me to put that at the forefront. In a perfect world, I would be referred to as a dad, son, nonprofiteer, uncle, kind, loving, and faithful person with a boyfriend. I long for the day that Pride isn't a requirement. It's a celebration of love, not a fight for rights.

Until that day, we aren't going anywhere, and we are everywhere. Until next year, we continue the fight! And while the wind was blowing and the dirt was flying, it did not stop the love.