Despite corporate critique there is nothing more beautiful than this colorful sea of queers stomping, bumping, blowing whistles in my ears. Dancing as a community creates safety and interrupts habits of hiding.
Celebrating being born this way takes courage. Trying not to fit in and act so damn straight takes courage. Moving in big ways, being simply glamorous and fully inhabiting gender non-conforming bodies takes courage. This is the practice of embodying pride.
Here's to the fierce, black, NYC queen Marsha P Johnson, who threw the first brick. Lest we forget that attending pride was and still is a form of protesting the status quo and marching for those who don’t even have the option of going into the closet.
We all need spaces to heal the self-hate that comes from growing up in a country that hates. Once a year it helps to celebrate that healing is possible. The rest of the year is drama, sadness, heartbreak and survival for so many in the LGBTQ community. But Pride in June, in any city, is as fabulous as spring in Vermont.