Pride and Prejudice
We are children in the rafters /We are babies in the park/ We are lovers at the movies/ We are candles in the dark/ We are changes in the weather/ We are snowflakes in July/ We are women grown together/ We are men who easily cry/ We are words not quickly spoken/ We're the deeper side of try/ We are dreamers in the making/ We are not afraid of "Why?"
- Ferron, “It Won’t Take Long”
June 1, 2023
It was the fall of 1985, my freshman year in college. Due to a series of random events, I ended up one night in a packed auditorium in downtown Cleveland. It was my first queer event – a Ferron concert. And it changed my life.
Ferron sat in a simple, wooden chair on the stage, playing haunting melodies and singing pure poetry in her powerful voice. I was sitting all the way in the back, next to people I barely knew. But as she told stories, sang, and played, everyone around me disappeared, and I found myself alone in the room with her. This performer, whom I had never met or seen before, spoke directly to my heart, reaching the depth of my loneliness, and creating the experience of intimacy without me having to say a single word.
From that day on, I knew I wasn’t alone.
In my twenties and early thirties, I attended Boston Pride every year. Entering the Boston Common during Pride was like stepping into an alternate universe, where I was no longer “other.” The sadness of stepping out of Pride at the end of the day was an experience akin to grief. It was the loss of being a full person, of truly belonging in the world.
It was a different era, without many of the rights we now have, and without the fury of backlash, now directed viciously at the trans community. I was a recipient of many of these rights – lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. However, despite the acceptance I’ve experienced over decades, for which I’m deeply thankful, the experience of being “other” has never retreated.
This is why we need Ferron. This is why we need Pride - more than ever.
A recent Gallup poll revealed that 1 in 5 adults of GenZ identify as LGBTQ. These results tell us many stories about identity. But as I ponder this statistic today, what I’m struck with is that GenZ is leading the way in eliminating the “otherness” of being queer. And for that, I’m very grateful.
Exposure to the news media reinforces the reality of enduring violence and prejudice toward our community. But queer events give us the opportunity to experience living in a world where we belong, if only for a minute, an hour, or a day. This is no small gift.