Pride on Display

Yesterday, I stood on Pearl Street in Boulder and watched the Pride flag go up. There it was, flying over the center of this city in plain sight of anyone who happened to walk by. I've been thinking about what that moment means. 

Pride has always been about being seen. Fully, publicly, unapologetically seen. That's true in a good year. But this isn't a particularly good year, not for LGBTQ+ people, especially trans and nonbinary people. Across the country, we are watching the federal government treat our community as political ammunition. Policies are being rolled back. Protections are disappearing. The message from Washington has been hard to miss: you do not belong here.

So when that flag goes up over Pearl Street, it isn't just decoration. It's a statement, an act of courage. It's a declaration that this city and this community disagrees. We are here, and we belong here, and the heart of Boulder knows it.

I want to say something about what it takes to be visible right now, because I think it gets flattened in the Pride month conversations that lean too hard on celebration.

Coming out in any form, at any age, in any year requires courage. But doing it in a national moment of hostility? That's something else. I hope you know when you walk down Pearl Street, or wherever you are, as your full self, when you wear what you wear and hold your partner's hand and take up space as exactly who you are, you are doing something that matters. Visibility is radical. It always has been. Pride didn't start as a parade. It started as a riot, as people who were done being invisible choosing instead to be undeniable.

The people Rocky Mountain Equality serves are navigating real and immediate challenges: accessing affirming healthcare, finding housing, staying safe, being recognized by the institutions that are supposed to serve them. For those people, seeing the Pride flag flying above Pearl Street and all over Colorado is a message: we are in this with you.

That message has never been more necessary. And it's only meaningful if it's backed up by real community investment in organizations like Rocky Mountain Equality, in the people who need those services, and in the work of making Colorado a place where LGBTQ+ people don't just survive but genuinely thrive.

So here's what I'll ask of you, whether you're LGBTQ+ yourself or showing up as an ally: next time you see a rainbow flag being proudly displayed, let it ask you a question: What am I doing to keep this place safe?

Maybe the answer is donating to Rocky Mountain Equality. Maybe it's showing up to a city council meeting. Maybe it's having a hard conversation with a family member, or calling your representative, or simply treating the trans person at your workplace with dignity, respect, and kindness.

The flag will fly for a month. The work is longer than that.

Happy Pride! Let's make it mean something.