Communities of Pride

Happy Pride Friends!

I know, I know. I'm late again... but at least it's still June. I guess it's just been pretty crazy on my end. 

In my last update, I mentioned a job change. Well I'm now fully situated at the new place and I have to say, as much as I was sure I was going to love it, I wasn't expecting it to be quite as good as it's been. I'm incredibly pleased being here. I've been so welcomed and one of the most affirming parts of the transition--apart from the Progress Flag above the door--is that the organization always a booth at Chester County Pride! 

Naturally, Joey and I went. It was a great day; crystal blue skies, a little breeze to keep the humidity from becoming overbearing. My work's spot was great and they handed out water, and mini Progress Flags and pins. Joey and I walked the whole festival and we plan to do the same next year, probably all day. Actually, I'm thinking about getting a vendor booth myself. 

We also had a great vacation to the Finger Lakes. We were up there for five days and visited about 3-4 wineries a day. And brought back two cases of wine. 

It was an amazing time. 

One thing I did find myself missing was that queer community. Don't get me wrong, the folks we usually travel with are some of our best friends and we love vacationing with them. In fact we're planning a few trips with them in the next few years and I can't wait. I have thought multiple times how fun it would be to do a similar trip with a group of gay friends. 

I think that yearning speaks to a need for community and it's probably why Pride felt so special. 

Human beings aren't meant to live in isolation. We're social animals, even those of us who are major introverts. Community is many things and we all exist in multiple communities. Sometimes those communities overlap like a venn-diagram, and and sometimes it's more like a three ring circus with no real interconnectivity. 

And here's the thing. They don't have to. There's nothing wrong with existing in unrelated communities, and in fact, it's healthy. It allows you to feed different facets of your personality at different times. 

The simple fact is, sometimes queers need to be with queers. 

It feeds us. There are simply things that happen to queer folks that, no matter how much of an ally a straight person is, they can never fully understand. Just like no man can fully understand what women endure, no white person can understand the POC experience. No straight person can fully get the queer experience. 

I think sometimes that the only time I fully lower my walls is when there are no straight people around. That's not to say I feel safe enough to fully lower those defenses around every queer person.

Now, I don't want to sound like an exclusionary person--I hope it's clear that I'm not. But I also think we should protect queer spaces. Now, that doesn't mean straight people can't be guests but it's important to remember that queer spaces, even temporary queer spaces, are places meant for us to let our hair down and that can be difficult when you wonder how you're being perceived. It's an 'othering' feeling in a space that should totally be free of that. 

I'm sure you've heard people say "In the middle of Pride month?" when people do or say inconvenient things to gays. It's a funny quip but it speaks to this same feeling about queer spaces. Certainly the month of June isn't a time when straight people cease to exist for a stint, but it does sometimes feel like it's an invasion of sometime special. 

Which brings me back to community. When we feel those slights, those aggressions, and invasions, we should rely on the community. That doesn't mean going to our queer friends expecting therapy--God knows you should have a licensed therapist of your own, everyone should--but it does mean commiserating. 

Pride is that time, it's the chance to celebrate our rich, vibrant community. It's a time to remember the struggle it's been to get where we are now and to remind ourselves how fragile what we have still is. By standing together in community, we solidify that fragile and precious thing we've built as queer people. 

But there's nothing new about queer community. In the Victoria Era, queers were just as present as we are now. The community was underground, sure. But it was there. And a way it was protected was through a secret language call Polari--a language spoken by queers used to identify each other and to have queer conversations in public spaces. Some of you probably already knew that. But did you know that there's a lot of slang that comes from Polari? Calling something 'manky', or 'camp'; 'mince' as a type of walking, 'ogle' to look at something that's attractive appraisingly, calling a random sexual partner a 'trade', and even 'zhoosh' as in decorating, like zhooshing up. All of those come from Polari. It's just evidence that queer communities have lasting marks on the world as a whole. 

When queer people stand in community, we can change the world. That's something to be proud of, I think. 

The unfortunate part of this though, is that not every queer person can be in those communities. Which means, in my opinion, we must make our communities even stronger. We must strengthen them so that when vulnerable people enter, they're protected in some way. Part of the point of community is protection. 

So let's protect our spaces, our Pride and each other. Rely on each other, rely on our allies. Support each other, support those hidden. 

And above all, remember:
You are seen, you are loved, you matter.