Over the past two weekends I have attended two pride parades — one in Atlanta and one locally on Bo Diddley Community Plaza — in solidarity with friends and family members who identify as members of the LGBTQ+ community. In response to my travels, I was asked why pride parades continue to be heavily celebrated, despite the fact that this community now has the right to marriage and most discriminatory practices are now outlawed. I will try to answer this based on my own observations and ideas.
We march for the joy of the members of the community whose family and friends were accepting of their identity. In this case, pride is a celebratory occasion. The primary purpose of a pride parade is to acknowledge everyone’s right to exist no matter how they identify.
We march for those whose family and friends are not as accepting, who feel as though they cannot be themselves without fear of being ridiculed or hurt. In severe cases, some members of the LGBTQ+ community are victims of terrible hate crimes.
We march because 20 years ago, almost to the day, Matthew Shepard, whose ashes were interred at Washington National Cathedral in D.C. on Friday, was murdered in an anti-gay hate crime. We march because he never could, because he was killed for being himself and was never able to experience life as an adult. The opposition that this community has overcome in the past half-century is monumental. It is crucial to remember that until the mid-20th century, it was almost unheard of to identify as gay, and once people began to come out, they received serious backlash, sometimes costing them their lives. Due to the countless innocent lives lost for the sake of gaining acceptance, pride is to remember those who have come before.
We march to spread awareness of the transgender community. Murder rates of transgender people are astronomically high. Existing as a transgender woman of color is one of the most dangerous things you can do in the 21st century. Earlier this year, three black transgender women were fatally shot, possibly the work of a serial killer. Marsha P. Johnson, often considered to be one of the first prominent advocates for the transgender community, was suspected to have been murdered.
The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services recently proposed a new definition of gender that would essentially erase the legitimacy of transgender people, defining gender as being strictly biological, assigned at birth and absolutely immutable. We march because we hear you. We see you. You are loved, and we will ensure that your identity will never be erased.
We march because people who suffered from AIDS were treated unfairly, presumed to be dirty, unclean, sinful. Proper research and medical care were not devoted to AIDS victims by the presidential administrations of the ‘80s. It was wrongly believed to be exclusive to the gay community, giving the administrations a scapegoat on which to blame their fears, jokingly referring to AIDS as the “gay plague.” Had proper, intensive research been done, thousands of deaths could have been prevented. We march because silence equals death, and we will be silent no longer.
Pride is a time to celebrate identity, acceptance and the accomplishments of the LGBTQ+ community. It is also a time of remembrance, to honor those who have paved the way for gay rights, such as Harvey Milk, Marsha P. Johnson, Matthew Shepard and personal friends and family members whom we keep in our hearts as we march onward into a new and more accepting world.
Hannah Whitaker is a UF English sophomore. Her column appears on Mondays.
