I stare at the photo of a long-ago Gay Pride march. In it, I march with my girlfriend (now wife) and a bunch of young lesbians. I recently posted it on Facebook with the caption “I’m remembering my first gay pride, when my flamboyant 80’s shorts conveniently distracted from the fact that my knees were shaking…Cheering on the next generation who proudly claim who they are (and have a great time doing so!)…meet you on the corner of Beacon and Joy.”
I was telling the truth about participating in that Gay Pride march; my knees were shaking. I’d only been “out” a year. It was 1988. People were dying of AIDS. People stayed in the closet, at work and from their families, out of fear. I remember looking up at Boston rooftops and wondering if a gunman could be up there, ready to shoot at gay people. Then I chided myself for being paranoid.
Now I’m taking in the news of today’s massacre in Orlando, the news of the attempted violence at the Pride celebration in L.A., the news of armed guards stationed outside the Stonewall Inn in NYC.
I remember how agitated I got last year when one of my college students wrote a descriptive essay about Provincetown, mentioning gay couples who held onto each other in the street “as if that was the only place in the world they could do that.” If you’ve never felt safe holding the hand of your loved one in public, never felt safe kissing that person on a sunny park bench, or felt free to dance with abandon with your loved one in a nightclub– you understand how sacred those spaces are. These are not just bars or clubs or cute, artsy destinations; they are sanctuaries.
I’m also conscious of the safety that has been ripped away from so many other people by gunmen: people going to bible study, health clinics, movies, first grade. Now there are 50 dead in Orlando, and some of the names and faces are becoming public: vibrant men with beautiful Latino names.
We’ve been celebrating so many advances in LGBT rights these past few years, but this is a horrible reminder that we have a way to go. The biggest difference I can see now is that we have so many more allies, and so much more openness.
We’re not hiding, and we’re never going back again.