It began nearly 48 years ago in New York City at the Stonewall Inn. What started in the early hours of June 28 as one of many misguided police raids, ended as a riot that decades later would still be regarded as the smoking gun at the starting line of the modern LGBT rights movement.
Considered by many to be one of the safest places to be queer in the United States at the time, Greenwich Village, more specifically Stonewall, served as a kind of safe haven for LGBT folks. Bars and pubs were subject to relentless police raids, engineered to capture young queer people. If arrested, a person’s name could appear in the newspaper, essentially outing them to the general public and placing them at risk of losing their job, family and even their home.
There were countless dangers for the LGBT community during the Stonewall riots, many of which persist in certain areas of the country to this day. While the retribution for being queer or even associating with queer people was overwhelmingly cruel, the frustration of those involved in the Stonewall riots, who fought for the space to exist without persecution, has carried forth a tradition of pride celebrations.
Echoes of what they began persisted on social and political stages through the ‘70s, when homosexuality was still considered a mental illness, through the HIV/AIDS epidemic of the ‘80s, when same-sex marriage was legalized by the Supreme Court in 2015 and even today, as the LGBT community continues its fight for equality in a relentlessly harsh political climate.
Similar to how the first pride wasn’t a parade, but a riot fueled by frustration, many cities replaced their parades with protest marches for pride month in 2017.
The LGBT community has faced a fair bit of adversity in recent years, but pride month, this year especially, is a time to recall the stories of those who have come before and celebrate how far it’s come because of them. The tradition of pride they began has opened a space for vital representation and celebration of diversity.
In a historically red state like Idaho, representation and queer visibility aren’t entirely common. As Idaho’s sole liberal bubble, Moscow almost serves as its own city-wide version of the Stonewall Inn. Acceptance and diversity are not universal truths in Moscow but, compared to the state as a whole, it’s the closest thing to a safe haven Idaho residents are likely to get.
For Idaho’s LGBT youth, specifically those like myself, who were raised in less accepting communities but travel to the University of Idaho for an education, Moscow serves as the first real example of LGBT inclusion. It wasn’t until I moved to Moscow that I realized living as a queer person was even a possibility. Prior to my freshman year of college, my understanding of the LGBT community was limited to the stereotypical, assumption-based judgements perpetuated in my more rural community.
Therein lies what I believe to be the most valuable aspect of pride month — it eliminates the tunnel vision with which LGBT people are typically viewed and magnifies the beautiful aspects of the community. It demonstrates that queerness doesn’t have to be an isolating journey, that there are allies out there who support LGBT folks and that self-acceptance feels a whole lot better than shame.
Many people, including myself on some occasions, wonder why we celebrate pride to begin with. This, of course, is a very complex question. Each person celebrates in their own way, for their own reasons. However, if I had to venture a guess, I would say that pride is unequivocally a chance to connect.
Engagement in pride is an avenue for celebration, for some as a temporary respite from present political difficulties and for others as a chance at engaging those difficulties through activism. It’s a space for those, who may at times feel isolated, to gather and feel less alone. And if involvement in pride could help afford a single closeted person the confidence needed to engage the complexities of their identity, what is there to lose?
Austin Maas can be reached at [email protected] or on Twitter @austindmaas