Why we should (try to) take the Boston Straight Pride parade seriously

If this parade really comes to fruition, we should acknowledge it — and I say that as an LGBT person myself

Twitter mocked the concept of a straight pride parade, rightfully — but we should also engage with why these men want to see such a 'counterprotest' happen in the first place (iStock Getty / Twitter )

It’s LGBT Pride Month, but straight people aren’t going to let that stop them. Yesterday, news hit the wires that a group of men referring to themselves as Super Happy Fun America were planning a “straight pride parade” in Boston. The self-identified deputy leader of the group, Mark Sahady, claimed that they had worked out a parade route and applied to the city for a permit. They also wanted the same “accommodations” as the LGBT pride parade was being given. Reportedly, they wanted to upset the “identity politics” agenda.

I was walking around an art installation full of color and vibrancy yesterday when I read the news. I felt an overwhelming sense of anger and sadness. It felt like a blatant mockery of everything I’d been through as a bisexual teen in a Midwest town, my sexuality denied and opposed by my conservative parents.

If someone had asked me what a “straight pride” parade looked like back when I was a budding teenager, I would have laughed, thinking the very idea of that would only exist in some dated joke in extremely poor taste.

Four decades later, I was getting drinks after work and I thought on it. What would a straight pride parade look like?

I flipped through the colorful pictures of friends dressed for a party this weekend and thought about how each of them might react to this enquiry.

I envisioned clenched fists of frustration, a sea of white men bounding through the streets raising their loud, privileged voices about those of the maligned communities trying to celebrate their one month of pride.

I am dismayed to say that those kinds of folks are likely the ones my conservative parents would both proudly and unapologetically endorse. And they would probably wear MAGA hats.

A straight pride parade is not about learning anything. It is about making it known that folks believe that the colorful spectrum of brave individuals celebrating this month are simply a joke to the people that are oppressing them. Using the lives of LGBT people for a pithy joke might seem funny and smart to people who have never been cut off from their families, yelled at or spat on for holding hands with their partners, or denied equal marriage rights. The “straight pride” crew might not realize how painful it is for marginalized people to be told they should share their one moment of celebration with a group of people who have never experienced prejudice over their sexuality. But if they want to campaign for equal representation, it’s their job to start engaging with those sorts of ideas.

Strangely enough, though, I would like to acknowledge the people who want a straight parade; I want them to know that they are seen. Refusing to acknowledge them is counterproductive, and will only allow them to become further entrenched in their views. Perhaps, if the parade does get permission from Boston to march, its members can also join the city’s LGBT+ parade, and stand as allies with their non-heterosexual counterparts. Perhaps, instead of mocking gay pride by demanding a straight pride parade for kicks, and instead of mocking the straight pride advocates on Twitter, we can come to some sort of understanding. Perhaps we can learn from each other.

The truth is that I am livid. I am frustrated. But I want to believe that our country is better than this — and that the dream of freedom and equality my great-grandparents pursued when they crossed over from Mexico is still alive. I want to believe that this isn’t a flippant attack on our values. I want to believe that Super Happy Fun America, who say their parade will be free and open to everyone, are open to engagement and friendly debate.

I want to believe that so bad.