BLM x Pride

Balloons strategically placed in the name of costume, street crossings wielding the colors of pride, and enough rainbow merchandise and free condoms to last a lifetime (provided they don’t expire). That’s what comes to mind when I picture Pride month and the affiliated parade. But here’s what you find if you look closely enough at the colorful display that decorates our social media feeds during the closing week of June: law enforcement strewn uniformly throughout the crowds. Some don rainbow flags in solidarity, but all come equipped with duty belts adorned with everything from tasers to mace. Given the racist foundations of American law enforcement and the origin of Pride, this sounds like a recipe for disaster.

The inception of modern-day Pride parades lies in protests, specifically the Stonewall Riots of 1969. After constant police harassment at the Stonewall Inn—one of the only LGBTQ-friendly bars of the time that welcomed people of all ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds from ALL avenues of the LGBTQ community—Black trans activist Marsha P. Johnson and Latinx trans activist Sylvia Rivera reached their boiling points. Sick and tired of being treated as less-than, both women fought back, spearheading the riots that continued for the rest of the week, and celebrated their 51st anniversary this year. Odds are Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera are turning in their graves knowing that cops monitor pride parades; members of the very institution that compromised the safety of the LGBTQ community so many years ago is who we now hold responsible for protecting this same community. 

The LGBTQ rights movement has seen monumental progress since its genesis: LGBTQ representation in the media continues to improve, a federal ruling has legalized same-sex marriage nationwide, and the NYPD apologized for the actions of officers past during Pride 2019. That said, there is still work to be done;  upon further inspection the media’s representation is predominantly white and white-passing, Trump repealed of trans healthcare protections this June, and cops still subject BIPOC trans women to harassment and violence—a quick Google search highlights the dangerous realities that still accompany being a Black trans woman in America. Alongside the oh-so-popular Pride parades that we celebrate annually there are vigils taking place for the Black Trans lives lost. 

Pride prides itself on its tenets of unity and inclusivity but race and gender identity still create an unspoken hierarchy within the community; the cisgender white gay man is crowned with the jewels of white privilege while BIPOC still face both a transgender murder epidemic and a healthcare system that systemically disenfranchises them. Media treats the AIDS epidemic as one of the past because there are now treatments available, but healthcare complicates this. Middle-class white men are no longer dying of the illness but accessibility to HIV treatment is an ongoing issue for people of color, and over 40% of people currently living with HIV are Black. 

As long as white supremacy and racism plague not only the everyday lives of BIPOC but also the parade designed to celebrate the LGBTQ community, Pride fails to satisfy its principles of inclusivity and unity. Law enforcement is a deadly arm of America’s racist institutions, and uniforms do not belong at Pride when they ensure the safety of some while simultaneously threatening the lives of others. LGBTQ members of police forces do exist, and their celebration of their identity is welcome—it’s what their vocation represents that is not. 

Pride month 2020 is months past, but Pride isn’t just about rainbow Gucci sneakers and an elaborate parade photo-op. It’s about acknowledging how far we’ve come since the first brick was thrown at the Stonewall Inn in 1969, and what we need to do moving forward. Pride and BLM are inextricably linked, and for Pride to be as inclusive as we hope for it to be, Blackness and queerness must be able to coexist. Black Lives Matter, but more importantly, Black LIVING matters. And this must include Black trans women.

By Anita Mukherjee

Indie rock enthusiast and home chef who will always make time to watch a stand-up special