Queerbomb. It was a glorious, uproarious, chorus of beautiful, creative, outspoken people. I felt as much at home in the crowd of LGBTQPIA as probably anywhere in town. Precious letters, every one. Family.
I brought my family with me, and we strolled Eastside Drive In, munching on fish & chips, hugging friends. Our kids, 11 and 7, goggled a bit at the crowd, but mostly just played, occasionally with other little ones, sometimes on their own. They were delighted by the feathers and glitter, the drag and the leather, the bright colors and the loud rally cries. The oldest one really got into the rally part, I'm proud to say. He gets it.
People looked happy. People looked beautiful. And after a year filled with horrifying stories of bullying, of suicides, and more, they deserved to be happy, to be beautiful, just as perfectly beautiful as the world made them to be.
My children marched in the sea of bodies and music, and danced with the crowd in the streets down Sixth, and I saw the future in them, in us. A future where people just expect that they get to be in relationships with the people they feel most drawn to. A future filled with more freedom of expression. A future filled with pride and grace and love and human rights.
Love isn't the problem. Sensuality and boas and glitter and pleasure certainly not the problem. Difference, variety, color, and orientation are not the problem.
Fear is the problem. Violence is the problem. Hate is the problem.
I'm grateful my little family and the great big huge QB family got to join hands and share some of that future-making, that joy and that friendship, and political vigor. That radical vigor and pride will help make that future happen, for all the precious people, every one.
As we left, my oldest said, "That was awesome! We need to do this every year."
He's right. And we will.
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