Preached at Urban Abbey on June 30, 2019
I have struggled greatly with pride. As a latino person, being gay and gender nonconforming can be incredibly uncomfortable. Being proud of myself doesn’t come easy, and building it has been a long, ongoing journey. I have learned many things about pride itself, the organizations that sponsor it and the people who work tirelessly to put it on every year, but those things aren’t really what it means. Understanding the history of pride, and knowing what it means to other people is one thing, but feeling it for myself has always been on the back-burner, an afterthought. When I began writing this I spoke in generalities, revisited the history of pride, but never once did I acknowledge what it means to me personally, because of how vulnerable it made me feel. But Pride isn’t exactly the time to be guarded or ashamed, so for today, I am brave.
Pride is meaningful in part because of its context. Its roots are those of resistance and activism, in standing up for the LGBT community because we will not go quietly into the night. Pride is as much a celebration as it is a memorial, and it encapsulates a hard fought battle to be loud and unapologetic about a source of deep shame for many of us, because being queer or LGBT is nothing to be ashamed of despite what the world around us may feel. I love these ideas, and that it’s safe to be this way in Omaha, Nebraska, of all places, but I find myself wondering what it must be like to live somewhere where it is impossible to be out and proud. I think that pride is as much about those who can’t celebrate it as those who can. Through the pain and fear that being different can cause, I hope that just knowing about pride and seeing pictures makes them feel less alone, because I know that was the case for me when I was younger. I’ve been fortunate enough to not have to experience those things, but even then, Pride can be difficult.
The truth is, I find it hard to this day to feel the joy of pride, to find authenticity in it. I think many people also feel this sense of ill-fitting at the parades and parties, partially because of the ostentatiousness of it all and because sometimes we don’t fit into neat little boxes of identity. The LGBT community is so varied and colorful, it can be overwhelming trying to figure the whole thing out, especially in public. But with every passing year I find that pride is, more than anything else, about love. I know that’s really cheesy and has been said a thousand times, but it really genuinely is about feeling loved for who you are, whatever that may entail. Pride is this incredible thing, this sensation of being seen for who you really are and being embraced with open arms in response. It is the freedom of choice and self expression, of shedding the things that make us small and unobtrusive. For me, my first Pride was the first time I’d ever felt like I could have a happy future, that I even had a future. I saw families of LGBT people, older people who were out and successful, young kids and teenagers with incredible, supportive parents (and like, so many dogs).
And after the parade was over and I was with my other LGBT friends, I realized pride is not a one month affair. It lives within us at every waking moment, in every connection we forge, in the bonds of chosen family that we care for during the other 11 months of the year. Pride is a state of being, regardless of whether it is loud or quiet. I am proud to call this space, the Urban Abbey, my home and my church. This community is so loving, so open, and I am forever grateful to be part of it. Being here on this day reinforces that ever elusive feeling of validity, and more importantly, that the community around me meets me with love and respect. Happy pride month. Thank you for helping me be brave.
No comments:
Post a Comment