Yesterday one of my young clients told me that this year’s pride was particularly special and great. When I asked why, she said “It’s because it’s great for LGBTQ people and it’s special because I’m part of it.” She then came out to me as pansexual and told me a gorgeous story of her journey getting to the label.
This client is eleven and she is thrilled that the community she has newly recognized herself as a part of is having a big ass party to celebrate themselves.
It’s been a rough year to be queer, especially if you are trans, especially especially if you, like many of my clients, are a trans teen. Between bathroom debates, mandatory de-transitioning, legally mandated lack of health care or privacy for trans teens, drag bans, and don’t say gay policies, we (and especially trans and gender non-binary folks) are under attack. The level of hatred and hateful rhetoric is gutting.
I, as a cis queer, feel frequently scared and hopeless. My trans clients, and especially my trans teen and young adult clients, report feeling overwhelmed and frequently debilitated.
A few days ago I wrote a blog post for pride month blog post was mostly a list of the political issues we are facing and how pride is increasingly corporate and how all of that sucks. It was all valid information but I’m glad I didn’t post it.
Talking to my eleven year old client who was so excited about pride and seeing the responses of others of my clients to pride has been deeply nourishing and reinvigorating. Most of the clients who are the most excited are young or newly out. I’m so happy for them.
These young or newly out people deserve the party, deserve the big welcome to the community. Those of us who have been in it longer or who feel tired or scared or cynical deserve to have time where we feel the joy of queerness, the joy of our people, the joy that comes from our survival through struggle.
Things are beyond awful politically, there is so much pain, we are tired, we are sad, and sometimes it feels like this despair is all we will ever feel. It is in this moment that painting our faces rainbow and dancing in the streets is so needed. Let’s say fuck you to all the systems and individuals who are trying to end our community.
I bought a pride flag and when it arrives I will be putting it up on my balcony despite the conservatism of the area where I live. I’m lucky, any negative response is likely to be muttered comments and doors that don’t get held open for me. No one is going to throw punches and likely no one will yell at me. I’m on the second floor and someone would have to shimmy up a tree to take it down or deface it. I have the privilege to be visible and I am eager to take advantage of that fact.
I’m not going to any pride celebrations because the combination of crowd anxiety and a busted car. I’m not actually explicitly celebrating much in my personal life (though I’m hoping my car is fixed in time for me to attend a queer speed dating event later this month). But I’m putting out my little flag and, as always, I’m holding space for my clients to celebrate or not celebrate however they wish.
I’m here for the joyous eleven year olds and the exhausted twenty-seven year olds for whom pride month has mostly become a series of community organizing tasks. I’m here for the queer folks who aren’t really celebrating pride because it doesn’t feel like anything special for them. I’m here for the queer folks who feel pride is too dangerous to celebrate and the ones who feel like it’s too dangerous not to celebrate. There is no wrong way to experience the month of June and no one right way either.
To all my queer peeps I love you, and I hope you find the joy to contrast with the pain. I am grateful every day to be part of this glorious, diverse, vibrant, resilient community.
Happy Pride! *throws rainbow confetti*
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