At the Love Parade

We’re back! (from our summer break, that is)

As a kid growing up in Europe, Pride meant a procession of smiling people, brightly (and scantly) dressed, dancing to techno on floats and trucks in Berlin. (10-year-old me just couldn’t get enough of this track 😂)

In my Catholic school, talk of LGBTQ+ communities and issues was conspicuously absent. And since the internet was hardly a thing, I had zero awareness of what it all meant (and certainly knew nothing of the movement in the U.S. and Pride’s origins in the Stonewall uprising).

I think almost everyone can relate to the idea of not feeling able to express who they really are at some point in their life. I certainly feel like my process of unlearning some of my “education” and finding emancipation is an ongoing process. But I had the privilege to never live in existential fear over those identity questions.

I've been reflecting on the millions of people out there who experienced fear and dissonance between who they knew they were and who they were told they had to be. To think that many have found a way out and are now able to express their identities with pride—that instead of internalizing and perpetuating violence, by some extraordinary alchemy have transformed those feelings into a celebration filled with joy, exuberance, and colorful expressions… Well, that brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it—even as so much progress remains to be made.

If you’re marching in NYC today, have a blast! And to everyone else, Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈

With warmth and gratitude,

— Harry, Steward-Owner