RYAN LEE | 7.2.2008
It’s tough being pregnant in the summer.
At least that’s what my mother told me recently when she asked about my friend Claire, who is seven-and-a-half months into her first pregnancy. There was an empathy and solidarity in my mother’s voice that underlined the bond the two of them have as women, as an expecting mother and someone who has been there before.
I’m going to Chicago this month for a wedding one weekend and my 10-year class reunion the following Saturday. I’m mostly looking forward to the time between those events, when I can spend some days and nights pampering a swollen and overheated Claire, massaging her aching feet and making sure her martini glass never gets three-quarters empty.
Well, maybe no martinis. That’s way too “Will & Grace,” and I’ve got more of a “Beaches” theme playing in my mind.
Believe it or not, I’ve never been pregnant. Given that, I think I’m far better equipped to offer manual servitude to an expecting mother than to give her advice on how she should deal with the pain.
But — probably because it’s Gay Pride season — the other day when Claire asked me how she will make it through her pregnancy, the answer seemed obvious.
“I can’t take being pregnant one minute longer!” Claire said. “Except for I don’t have a choice. How can those two co-exist?”
“As they have for thousands of years,” I replied. “Draw strength from the women and mothers who have been through this before you, and who assure you that everything is OK and worth it.”
That’s what I believe pride has the potential to be, for young gay people who believe that they are the only person experiencing confusion and anxiety, and for adults who remain convinced that embracing their sexual orientation will prevent them from being happy.
It’s easy for us to connect with one another on Peachtree Street Sunday, or in a nightclub or hotel room, and those are important parts of Pride. But I challenge us all to strive for and recognize more meaningful bonds this weekend.
Wear your pride with the hope that someone — a young gay person, a TV news crew, a heterosexual bystander — will notice and yearn for the peace you have with who you are. Or watch the bare-chested dyke, or the gay dads club, or the rambunctious drag queen, and realize that being gay isn’t all about discrimination and disease — you can have a lot of fun if you allow yourself to.
If you’ve been to more than one Gay Pride festival, it’s easy to recognize recurring themes, usually involving alcohol, weather, nudity, preachers, politicians and other unsavory characters. Having heard versions of most of these questions at Pride every year, I offer this convenient collection of Frequently Asked Questions for the uninitiated:
Why do gay people have to have pride parades?
Because for thousands and thousands of years, we have been systematically conditioned to believe that we are wrong, sinful, inferior, detestable, cursed and invisible. We existed in shadows and lived in a world that enthusiastically reminded us of how unacceptable we are — through laws, through pop culture, through our families and religious institutions.
Only in the last few decades have gay people crossed a threshold and said to the world, “You are mistaken. We are not vile, or wicked, or sick, and we will no longer allow you to lie about us without being challenged.”
That realization is worth a celebration, and if someone wants to celebrate it by marching in a parade and telling the world to kiss his thong-wearing ass, more power to him. Our culture is one where people use Super Bowl victories and generic concepts like Fat Tuesday as excuses to be drunk and hedonistic in the streets.
There is nothing wrong with our party.
Is Pride just a party, or should it be political?
Pride is about partying and having a good time, and to pretend that people should be more politically conscious during the weekend is as misguided as a priest going to the French Quarter during Mardi Gras and reminding everyone that Lent begins tomorrow.
Still, Pride remains to most powerful political statement our movement is capable of making — showing ourselves and outsiders that gay people are not one or two awkward stereotypes that people can marginalize, but instead a massive part of our culture that is aware that it deserves freedom and happiness.
What is the best part of pride?
Gasoline may be more than $4 a gallon, but that’s still a great deal compared to the cost of lube. One of my primary objectives each Pride is to collect a year’s supply of AstroGlide and Wet throughout the weekend, along with gym bags, T-shirts and other freebies.
And to my gay brothers everywhere, you have a constitutional right to free condoms during Pride. Grab them. Use them. Live proud.
Reach Ryan Lee at RLee@DavidAtlanta.com.
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