Pride is not a rainbow. It’s a riot.
Last weekend, our family of four attended Montclair, New Jersey’s first ever Pride Festival, the theme of which was: “Be You. Be Heard.”
Vendors and organizations set up colorful tables, gave out freebies featuring their logos and brands, and handed out a plethora of pride flags emblazoned with the colorful stripes and symbols of various identity-groups within queer community,including many that helped folks share their pride as vocal and visible allies.
The day was a joyous success. I witnessed middle schoolers wandering the festival in groups, sporting unique outfits and tie-dye hairstyles, introducing one another to their girlfriends or boyfriends or “joyfriends” (a non-binary, gender-inclusive word for “someone-you’re-dating”) from nearby towns. I heard straight-appearing parents teaching their young ones what “LGBTQ pride” means, saying, “Pride is about everyone being accepted, no matter who they are or whom they love.” I saw multi-generational families of all hues walking down the street together, smiling and dancing. Many people (and dogs and birds, for that matter) displayed this slogan on their shirts and bandanas: “Love is Love.”
I loved being a part of Montclair Pride, just as I’ve loved being a part of every other Pride event I’ve attended, since the first time I marched with my college contingent in the summer of…
