This pride isn’t about sexuality

At this weekend’s annual celebration of gay pride in Vancouver, B.C., the highlight will be a big and joyous parade, an event which should, based on last year’s numbers, draw more than 600,000 people – my son Sam being among them.

Sam will drive up from Seattle during what is a way-too-busy season for him because, as he says, “I like who I am and, frankly, I like to go to a good party.”

And why not? I remember some years back when he was still a teenager, he asked us to go with him to the gay pride parade in Seattle. We thought that was a significant request, and so we went. Sure there was a lot of – how should I put it – bold and out-there costuming, but I was particularly struck by the family groups we saw there, the older parents walking with their lesbian daughter and her partner, the balloons and laughter, the kids and the comfort of being visible and safe and having fun. He was right; it was a good party, even for two boringly stodgy, long-married parents. And I think it was important at that time having us there.

Gay pride events are now held everywhere. What I noticed about the news coverage this year was, well, pretty much nothing. That’s both good and bad.

The good is that gay pride activities are kind of ordinary now. I don’t mean uninteresting. They’re hardly that. I mean they are now just listed as one of many events that take place in communities across the country. No big deal. As the mother of a gay son, I am warmed that at least this celebration has become part of the fabric of the community.

The bad part about the mainstreaming of pride events is that it may give the impression that all is well. Not so. There are still a lot of dark things going on in the world for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered and others for whom gay pride is more than just a slogan or a parade. Besides the outright fun that is gay pride celebration, those who parade openly are often doing so for their brothers and sisters who remain hidden lest they be banished or killed. Even in America. Still.

Despite the gains, I keep hearing the same question about gay pride. Why flaunt sexual orientation, why hold a public parade about it? So this year, I asked Sam, and he put the question out on his Facebook page. He heard from dozens of friends of all ages and orientations. And not everybody was pro-pride either.

One married mother said: “There’s a parade for the same reason everybody else has a parade. St. Patrick’s Day, Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, Homecoming. People with like interests gather to celebrate.”

From an older gay man: “ … as more people come out, then pretty soon everyone will know, personally, someone who is gay. It is harder to hate and discriminate against your brother, your uncle, your aunt, your co-worker, your neighbor, etc. It puts a face on what would’ve been just an abstract stereotype.”

Brendan, in his mid-20s: “I hate to sound like the self-loathing gay, but I’m not about the parade myself … For many who attend, it’s looking at the gay population as a zoo exhibit … .”

A gay political activist in his 30s: “I used to think the same about the parade as Brendan, but when you have a parade, any parade, you’re going to have spectacle. That’s what gets people to come!” He added that if you see Irish people in outlandish green get-ups at St. Patrick’s Day events, “should people assume that’s how all Irish dress all the time?”

For another man in a long-term relationship, the parade is about progress. “(It) makes me think how much has changed … now at 33, I have a partner that I can hold hands with in public if I so choose, two kids, health care, job protection and a whole host of every day liberties that were not possible 10-plus years ago.”

And finally, this from a man in his 40s who lives with a partner: “To my heterosexual friends who often question why [we] feel the need to celebrate our sexuality, the argument is that heterosexuals don’t have their own holiday, so why should we? But you do have holidays and celebrations. They are called weddings, anniversaries and Valentine’s Day. We still aren’t allowed to celebrate those, so we created our own.”

We won’t be with Sam in Vancouver this weekend. But as we think about the event and about our son, we are happy that he is successfully launched out into the world as an independent, confident and kind man. That’s plenty of pride for us.