Sunday, June 27, 2010

Pride, Sports & Getting Sunburnt for the Gay


I am missing Chicago's 41st Gay Pride Parade, which should step off by the time I finish this post. Honestly, I'm not too torn up about about that - with one exception which I'll get to later.



I went to my first pride parade 13 years ago (yeesh - old!). I had just come out and the thrill of being with the community in a celebratory mode was exciting and unbelievable. I actually marched in that parade with my first girlfriend with the UIUC queer student group. I remember cursing the fact we hadn't had the foresight to bring water. We rehydrated after the parade by getting some paletas from a man with a push cart. We also made out as we marched in front of Fred Phelps' band of bigoted protesting assholes. Ah, good times.

As the novelty has worn off over the years, here's the reasons I'm not going this year, and haven't in the last several:

- It's always hotter than hell and I always get sunburn. Yes, I know it's the height of summer, but I'm a gentle flower *snort*
- It's crowded and unless you get there at least a couple hours in advance, you won't find a good spot to be able to see anything.
- Even if you do get a nice spot, by the time the parade comes along, people trample on your blanket or plain just stand in front of you.
- They'll throw things from the floats and people run into the street to catch them. This isn't New Orleans people! I wonder if they set barriers along the curbs now, because literally there were years the floats could barely get through because people gathered in the street to get a fucking condom or cheap key chain.
- Way too many drunkards. And considering I already had my moment with a overcrowded drunk, sweaty group at the Hawks parade, I'll pass on this. Although the pride group is much better dressed.
- The parade always starts late - way to substantiate stereotypes. The last time I went the parade was also three hours which is way, way too long to be standing out there. And that's far too many shirtless, oiled men on floats for me, thank you very much.
- Anyone who knows a bit about gay history knows that the impetus for pride parades was the Stonewall Riots in NYC in 1969. If you don't know about it, might I suggest reading Stonewall by Martin Duberman - an excellent tome. In any case, what was once a symbol of protest and solidarity has turned into a mass marketed joke: an endless stream of politicians showing that they're queer friendly for one day and some will vote against our rights the next. Floats and floats sponsored by corporate America - some again showing their "support" just to gain a buck. Half naked men and drag queens: mind you I'm not against this by any means, but I'd like more "everyday" people in the parade because to an outsider, it looks like the queer community is solely comprised of drag queens, muscle boys and women with pasties. At least the PFLAG contingent still gets a rousing reception - to me, *that* is what the parade is all about.


Ok, I realize the above rant makes me seem like a bitter old turd. Mind you, I have lots of great memories of pride's past:

- Women flashing from the building across the street and me being angry that a lamp pole blocked my view.
- Going to my first pride parade with Amy, about a month after we started dating (that's where these pictures are from).
- Shouting and joking and laughing with my friends during the parade.
- Going to a Mexican Restaurant with friends afterward. Getting totally bombed on pitchers of Margaritas to the point where my friend passed out and left her nose print on the window of my other friend's car.

I realize for some, Pride is something they look forward to for weeks and they have a great time. For those who have just come out, it's a wonderful bonding experience with the community. For allies, it's an opportunity to show their support. I guess I'm a little older and a lot more jaded than when I went to my first Pride Parade in 1997. That, and since Amy is planning on doing her Ph.D on the Gay Shame movement, I've grown to take an alternate view of the parade phenomenon.


This brings me to my one reason I'm sad I didn't get my ass up this morning to go. Brent Sopel is bringing the Stanley Cup to the pride parade. This is the first time the Cup will be in attendance at such an event.

This is an important moment for sports and the gay community. Mainstream professional sport is one of the most homophobic and exclusive groups in this country. How many queer professional athletes in the four major sports (NHL, MLB, NFL, NBA) can you name? And if you can think of one, they came out after they retired. The plain fact is, as a queer professional male athlete, you must stay closeted during your playing days or face being shunned and ridiculed. In the NHL, one only needs to see how many times the word "fag" is thrown as an insult on the ice to see what I mean.

Brent Sopel is the last person I would have thought to volunteer to bring the Cup to the parade. In the Blackhawks' yearbook, there is a profile of each player. One of the questions they ask is, "If you could invite three people to dinner, who would they be?" Brent's answers were Sarah Palin, and George Bush I and II. Additionally, the players' wives held a charity auction during Easter and some players made a basket of their favorite things for bids. In Brent's basket: a Glenn Beck book. Just when I pegged him as a right wing nut, he says something like this:
"When Brendan [Burke] came out, Brian stood by him, and his whole family stood by him, like every family should," said Sopel. "We teach our kids about accepting everybody. Tolerate everybody, to understand where everyone is coming from."
That brings a tear to my eye. Thank you Brent for kicking my ass and reminding me not to judge a book by its cover. Thank you to you and your beautiful family for taking the time to do this. I will always be your fan wherever you go, and will never, ever mock your skating ability again.


Rants and raves aside, I wish everyone the very best pride! Celebrate in which ever way you get the most joy (my fat ass is going out to brunch). And remember, let's support and love our queer friends and allies, 365 days a year, not just during a three hour parade!

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