esrosedotblog

STONEWALLING IT

Yesterday and today are the 36th anniversary of the riots at the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, NY.

I was still working my way out of the closet at this point. The feelings that I had about the riots were quite profound.

I did not want to be a part of it, but then, I felt that I was a part of it whether I wanted to be or not. I knew that nothing would be the same afterwards.

Of course, this was not an immediate reaction. It took a little time. Blood had been drawn in a battle that was for me as well as countless others.

A lot has happened since that time: to me; to the countless others; to the world.

I never imagined that things would change so much. This is proof of our inability to scan the future from present events. The idea that only 30 years later, we would be arguing the merits of gay-marriage is radical from the point of view of the 60s. And yet today, it is an issue of daily discourse. We are the news as much as any other event or situation.

They are passing constitutional amendments against us now. In one way, it is amusing to see. In another, tragic.

I will go for 'amusing'.

This is the season of what has come to be known as the 'pride' season. 'Pride' has become a noun. "Are you going to Pride"? I think this is partly as we are not 'gay' any more. We are a bunch of initials.

I don't know how this came about, but there it is. GLBT and god only knows what else? A strange umbrella. We are assuredly not the same. In fact we are often, wildly in opposition to one another. But, I guess we are all 'proud'. Some days, I am not sure.

I have to say that I don't like it. I have never joined the bigger club. I am a a gay man and that is that. If that sounds like intolerance and geezerism, so be it.

The events surrounding this anniversary are wide and varied. They range from the serious to the absurd.

I guess that is as it should be. It is an absurdity to seek basic rights in this way. But, again, here we are. That is the way it is happening.

My first gay pride parade was in Boston and there may have been a few hundred people; just marching. Chanting. No floats. No sponsored group. No fee to walk in the parade. Shit, there were more fairies on the sidewalks watching and tut-tutting than there were in the parade. It was a little scary.

I remember going from happy friendly Charles Street to less and less happy austere Cambridge Street through the canyons of the business district. There was that turn where I always expected 'something' to happen. It never did. There was no violence. It was very benign.

I get a bit nostalgic for 'the old days' but then that is as it should be too. The current problems are always upsetting and the pain of the past is forgotten in the haze of happy success that has happened; to all our surprise.

The past is prologue.