The signs are everywhere: rainbow flags on Market Street, lines at the reopened Castro Theater, the world-famous pink triangle high on Twin Peaks. It’s Pride and, as every year, I hope you look forward to it as much as I do.  

Although all the signs are familiar, this year feels different. For one thing, we’re in a historic fight for our rights, safety, and dignity. There’s always urgency and defiance that come with our taking over the streets. This year, they’re even more powerful and imperative as we confront the most aggressively hostile administration in Washington in decades.  

Pride – of course – will be defiant in the very best way, too: by being a loud, dancing, million-person-strong celebration. When we’re truly under attack – as now – there’s little that says “resistance” better than our insistence on celebrating our existence. We resist every time we claim space and fill it with our joy. 

A different kind of year 

For me, this year feels different for another reason as well. As you’ve probably heard, I was (unexpectedly) selected as a “Grand Marshal” of San Francisco Pride’s march. Something about “lifetime achievement,” which, though it makes me feel rather “vintage,” truly means a great deal.  

The word “lifetime” brings back so much over these past 40 years. The suffocating closeness of the closet walls and the terror of somebody “finding out” in my pre-coming out years.  The sweet torment – or tormenting sweetness – of falling in love but being too afraid to say anything. The thrill of my first Pride celebration. The eruption of my queer political consciousness – and rage – at the Supreme Court’s 1986 Bowers v Hardwick decision upholding state anti-sodomy laws. The pain, loss, and heroism of the epidemic.  

Perhaps more than anything, this recognition makes me reflect with gratitude on all those whom I’ve known and  have inspired me, like Urvashi Vaid, the legendary LGBTQ activist and leader, and Shannon Minter and Matt Coles, architects of countless legal victories. People like Tim Sweeney, an early leader of  critical LGBTQ and HIV/AIDS nonprofits; or Andre Scott, an activist who brought overdue attention to Washington, D.C.’s Anacostia neighborhood; or Ron Johnson, a gay man, brutally gay-bashed, who bravely brought one of the first civil lawsuits against the attackers; or Letitia Gomez, Kate Kendell – and scores of others.  

This year’s Pride brings to mind countless other activists, as well as Horizons Foundation’s own founders and many leaders.  It’s making me think about all those who have mentored and supported me over these 40 years – entirely too many to mention. 

And it’s leading me to think about you.  

That I receive this recognition is because of you and so many people who’ve walked alongside me, who’ve been allies, who’ve supported Horizons Foundation and other organizations I’ve been connected with. Knowing that you – and thousands of others – are there to support, to fight, to give, to dream with, and to laugh with is the deepest meaning of this recognition, and the one for which I’m most grateful.  

Come join us!

Horizons will be proudly marching in this year’s parade. Please join us! Come march alongside me and the rest of the Horizons family. Let’s go together up Market Street on our day. We’ll have a trolley for those who’d rather not walk the 1.2-mile route, and plenty of room for all.