Boston Pride: Dyke March

Last week was LGBT Pride week in the Boston area. adrian_turtie and I decided to march in as much as possible of the Dyke March Friday evening and, if we weren’t too worn out and if the weather allowed, go to the parade on Saturday. The Dyke March was my priority because it’s more political, and a lot less corporate, than the Pride Parade is these days, for the values of “political” that matter to me, not “how many politicians are going to try to shake my hand?” Conveniently, what I wanted more also occurred first, so I didn’t have to guess whether the less-desired thing would use too many spoons.

We got to Boston Common Friday evening while people were still gathering, and looked around at the assorted tables; I took a “Rise Up, Resist, Repeat” button that a gay legal aid group was giving away. Then we sat down, and listened to the MC give an introduction and play a bit of music. She started with something like “I want to talk about the land we’re on,” which had me expecting her to say something about the people who lived in Massachusetts before European settlement; instead, she talked about Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson, the trans women of color who started the Stonewall Riot.

At that point we were sharing a bench with another woman, and chatting with her, which was fun. She said she was trying to go to every Dyke March (meaning every city’s, not every instance), and asked if she could take our picture. We happily said yes, and posed. Other than that, we talked to a bunch of people who were representing different causes, including some unrelated petition carriers and a random tourist who asked me whether gay people can get married in the United States. I told him yes, everywhere in the country now, but Massachusetts was first. (I didn’t grow up here, but sometimes it feels right to boast about this state.)

Last year, we marched almost the entire route, and then I had to lead Adrian into the T station at Park Street because the large number of police car strobes had triggered a seizure. So, this year’s plan was to leave when it got dark enough for the strobes to be a problem.

That turned out to mean we had to leave a few minutes after we started moving, just before we got to the edge of the Common: there were police cars, with strobe lights, lining the march route. I realize they were intended as helpful, but part of me is thinking “the police stopped me from marching in the street.” More seriously, there seem to be more, and sometimes more intense, strobes out there every week. At least some of them are intended as safety measures (e.g., to get people to pay attention to stop signs), but strobes are also a seizure trigger for some people.

So, we grumpily got back on the red line, went to Harvard Square for pho, and then home to Arlington. [continued on next rock.]

Boston Pride: Parade and fair

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adrian_turtle and I had lunch Saturday morning and then went into Boston, again taking the train to Park Street. We found a not-too-crowded spot a few blocks from the end of the parade route, and watched for a bit, though I couldn't see much (I’m short, and there were four or five rows of people there). Then there was a pause between floats/organized groups in the parade, so I stepped into the street and walked the last bit, while Adrian went to do volunteer work for Freedom for All Massachusetts.

The Pride Parade is a lot more establishment and capitalist than when I was marching in New York in the 1980s and ‘90s, but the cheering onlookers as we marched still had me grinning. I hadn’t planned to march and had no sign, but I was wearing my (new) t-shirt with lines of text including "Science is Real," "Black Lives Matter," "Love Is Love," and "Women’s Rights Are Human Rights."

There were what felt like too many politicians at the end of the parade route/entrance to City Hall Plaza, and Bob Massie and his people were enough in my face that I am less likely to vote for him than I was last week. (He’s one of the two Democratic candidates for governor; if he wins the primary, I will vote for him rather than Charlie Baker.)

I spent some time walking around the assorted booths at City Hall Plaza. I bought a rainbow-colored hat and skipped a lot of very commercial booths (no, I do not want my photo in a Nissan tweet, and I didn’t need fried dough). Wandering brought me back to the end of the parade route, so I sat on a wall and watched more of the parade. I'd thought the parade was close to the end when I joined it, but even after getting arriving a bit late and what I missed looking around the street fair, I saw a variety of marchers: politicians and gay sports leagues, a bank and Dunkin' Donuts and Taiwan Pride and a whole bunch of Unitarian churches each with its own sign, and more people just walking in ones and twos, like me. One person was carrying a sign with a picture of the rainbow flag and "Our flag is not your ad"; I hope he heard me saying I liked it. Then I went back into the plaza, and found more of the community/movement organizations, and eventually the official Boston Pride merchandise tent.

I now have a t-shirt with a picture of the Stonewall Inn sign and the text "Bring Back the Riot 1969 2019." Boston Pride was selling those, and "rainbow resistance" shirts--I like the sentiment there, but the graphic is ugly enough that I'm pretty sure I wouldn't wear it--along with things like tie-dyed "We the People Means Everybody" shirts. I also have a lot of new pins, in sizes from tiny to quite large—the "Rise Up, Resist, Repeat" I got at the Dyke March; a clenched fist on a rainbow-colored background; and little pins saying "Dyke March 2018," "Trans Rights Now!" "Fight the Patriarchy," "The Future is Female," and "Stop Profiling Muslims," all bought from the Dyke March people. (I gave them a couple of extra dollars, because we’d had to leave Friday night before I got a chance to donate for their expenses.) I may still order a retro/reprinted "Bisexual Pride" button to replace the one I lost a couple of months ago, but I am feeling much better equipped than I was last week.