 |
|
Two years ago this month, I ventured tentatively into Burlington in the company of two straight friends and my daughter to check out this thing called Pride. On the way down to the waterfront, we encountered a small but noisy group of women that very nearly sent me running back to my car. Although I was certain of my own orientation at that point, I was almost equally as certain I would never feel comfortable wearing the word 'dyke' as proudly as these women did. I didn't know how to look at them without staring, and I didn't know how to express the feelings of wonder and envy I felt that made me want to stare so much.
I mustered my courage and continued toward Battery Park. I stayed close to the group I later learned was the Dyke March, but didn't dare leave the sidewalk to actually join them.
At the park, I knew no one except those I rode in with. I just sat and watched what was going on around me. Of all the new faces I saw that day, the only ones that I remember clearly belong to a male couple and their two beautiful baby boys. Again, I found myself staring as I lingered on the edge of this community I wanted to join, if only I could work up the nerve.
When the parade started, I went ahead of the crowd to find a place on Church Street from which to observe the goings on. I had no intention of marching. Then I spotted a familiar face in the crowd. One of my classmates from college was there in the throng of people following the Bread & Puppet boat. I hurried out into the street to give her a hug and say a quick hello, and was immediately drawn into the group as it moved down the block. My friend introduced me to some people around us, and we chatted our way down the marketplace. I finished the parade route with them. Little did I know that a photographer would preserve this seminal moment in my queer life for posterity on the front page of the lifestyle section of the next day's paper. There I was — out and proud of it.
Needless to say, my days of cowering on the edge of the community are gone. I'm in the thick of things and loving it. But I can't forget what I was looking for on my first Pride Day.
I want to encourage everyone who is comfortably a part of the crowd to look for someone hovering on the edge that might be looking for the invitation to join in. On this, our most visible day, we need to be our most welcoming as well.
To those of you in the place I was only two years ago, I say, take heart and jump on in. It may just change your life.
This month's paper is full of reasons for all of us to be proud. We cover television documentaries by and about GLBT Vermonters, the recognition of one of our former editors in the "best of the small press" anthology, our active and visible youth community, the great celebration that the Pride Vermont committee is planning, and a spring legislative session that did more good than harm. What more could we ask for?
This is the largest issue of Out in the Mountains we've ever been able to print. Don't think for a minute that I'm not proud of that. Every week I hear of more trouble in the queer press — good papers going under. They are dropping like flies out there and we just keep growing stronger and stronger. The community shows us daily how important our work is in the form of subscriptions and donations. This paper appears monthly because a large number of people feel it is a vital part of queer life in Vermont. No one makes a living from it; but if pride could pay the rent, we'd all be in good shape.
Although our subscriber base is growing and the donations keep coming, our advertisers provide the most significant source of income for the paper. Please continue to be loyal to the folks who advertise with us and make sure they know that their ad in OITM is paying off. Mention where you heard of them and even how much you appreciate their support of your community's paper.
Now more than ever, and for more reasons than ever before, we need to be visible in this way. Let's let businesses know how much they need the queer community and how much we support our allies. Without these advertisers, we simply would not have a paper.
Go forth, be proud, and celebrate! See you at Pride.
