“you have the right to be yourself.” (aclu wisconsin)
there are few places with more evidence of this than PRIDE festivals. the wholehearted acceptance of one person to another is a theme on loop. it is a gift to attend such a celebration of people loving people.
and isn’t that the way it should be?
and yet, persons in this country, in some warped and perverted place in their brains and hearts – have decided that erasing the right to be oneself is their calling – leading with hate, placing the LGBTQ community under siege – people all complicit in the marginalization, disenfranchisement and endangering of this community with their hurrahing of rolling back protections of freedoms, mandating discrimination, and weaponizing federal law against transgender people.
when there is precious little time to start with in our mortal existence, how is it that so many people have so much time to spend on reviling of and cruelty to other people?
the american civil liberties union fights to protect, defend and expand civil rights and liberties.
because everyone has a right to be themselves.
the aclu of wisconsin “envisions a just society in which the dignity of every person is respected and our collective liberation is realized.”
imagine. a place where we simply love one another, support one another – as best we can.
to take every moment and maximize your time in it. to have compassion. to exercise kindness. to extend goodness. to embrace each other. to push back against oppression.
to generously allow each and every person to be true, to be authentic, to be themselves in every respectful and loving way.
“be yourself. everyone else is already taken.” (oscar wilde)
the sun, the contrail – elements of an exclamation mark in the sky.
i imagine it is an exclamation-mark for the beginning of PRIDE month – events with themes like “united in pride!” (chicago) and “remember, resist, rejoice!” (milwaukee) and “rise up: pride in protest! (nyc). i imagine it is lifting up the indisputable importance of acceptance of others and pushing back against discrimination and the violence that accompanies it.
we are proudly attending PRIDE – both in milwaukee and chicago. our edm artist son is performing at both festivals. for the last years we have attended both PRIDE events in these cities and i have come away with the big-sky-like feeling of people loving one another. it is a freeing reminder for anyone who has forgotten what it’s like to just care about each other, despite any of the differences that have been politicized into marginalizing people.
i – we – will always be staunch supporters of our son. we will always be staunch supporters of his friends, his extended family. we will always be staunch supporters of the LGBTQ community. we will always question the ugly – people who wish to eliminate LGBTQ freedoms and safety. we will always question those people – who tout their “christian” beliefs, their “jesus-saids” – while their gross bigotry shamefully reveals their empty words. no, jesus did not say anything that would buoy your cruelty. we will always question those people who have voted against the rights and privileges of the LGBTQ community, who have gleefully cheered on the homophobic, patriarchal march into autocracy, who have betrayed their own families.
the exclamation mark in the sky marks the beginning of a month in which we have the opportunity to promote unity, in which we have the chance to truly love one another, in which we might set down the vileness of homophobia and pick up kindness and the embrace of what diversity is.
on friday i projected being proud to be there – at chicago pridefest. i underestimated it.
even in its boisterous volume – loop high-fidelity-noise-reduction-earplugs and all, even in its crowded-can-hardly-move streets – take a breath, take a breath, take a breath, even in its vast array of body-expression – everyone seeming so comfortable on this day in their own skin, i felt at home. there was not one time we experienced any rudeness. there was not one time anyone excluded us. there was not one time anyone looked us up and down, measuring, discerning, approving or disapproving. there was not one time anyone seemed in-your-face superior. there was freedom. there was the peace of acceptance. there was – love of one another – as far as the eye could see.
our son’s friends ran to greet us and a tiny little girl passed out rainbow happy face buttons. we browsed the merch booths and returned to the corner in time for our son’s performance. an EDM artist, his show was seamless and powerfully energetic.
i might have worn different shoes. the health app on my phone said 9.7 miles. i’m thinking it was more. it was impossible not to dance, so i’m pretty sure that added to the steps i took, but keen sandals are not really dancing shoes. i don’t know if the tevas would have been better. what i do know is i had really happy feet and that doesn’t even start to compare to my heart.
though most of the time i watched my-son-on-stage-in-his-element…his imperative, as david said, “making music that sets people free.” i turned around a few times, to look at the crowd behind us.
people blissfully dancing, moving, touching, hugging, smiling. there didn’t seem to be one iota of self-consciousness or doubt. it wasn’t about wondering if they belonged, if their actions – or their very beings – would be measured against some heteropatriarchal b-s.
and i was so proud.
proud of our son and his music. proud of his really kind friends. proud of the people dancing around us. proud of the fishnet statements and the rainbows and the exposed skin.
this is what the world should model itself after. this is what our country should model itself after. this is what our communities should model themselves after. period.
and then – in the forwarding of love as the only north star – all could be proud.
and tomorrow we will go to chicago. we’ll metra downtown and walk to boystown. there will be sooo many people. and with them, we will stand on the corner of halsted and waveland and watch our son perform on-stage outside in the rainbowed city.
to say i am overjoyed at his producing of music these days would be an understatement. his zeal is full-on and he is squeezing every last minute of every day as he works in his professional position full-time and djs edm (electronic dance music) the rest of the time.
at his condo in chicago, in his studio, he demonstrated to me how he creates. as an analog artist, it was a fascinating experience to glean this complex digital mixing of tracks, layering, feathering, a sedimentary piece of music produced with great intention. it is hard not to dance as i watch. it’s hard not to be aware of the invisible bit of baton i hold, poised to pass. and i am aware of the contagious quivering of excitement, the gift of his sharing his process, how much i understand – on a cellular, heart level – how this creating feeds him. and then…then, there’s the joy…
different genres, but i still grok how my son feels. knowing that what you are producing is resonating with someone – someones, if you will – is powerful inspiration. i won’t forget the release of my first album and, even at number fifteen years later, it was with both the same excitement and vulnerability as the first. time and study and experimenting and lessons bank courage, though, so we each keep on keeping on, growing – much like anything in life to which we give time and attention.
i’d imagine that the day my yamaha c5 was delivered into my studio felt much like the day he upgraded his decks and gear. i’d imagine the day i stood in the sitting room with the chicago radio station on – waiting – and then my music aired – the first airplay ever – feels much like his tracks being signed to major edm labels, waiting to be released. i’d imagine the applause, stepping into the apron, at the end of a piece, feels much like the exhilarated dancing and cheers of the crowds at his gigs. i get it.
you know you are merely one artist in a universe of artists. humility. relevancy. there is much to learn. for both of us. always. the arc of an artist is never really done.
we have spent nights watching our son stream from clubs. 2am is later than it used to be but it’s a thrill to watch him in his element. we’ve listened to every single track he has sent us, every idea, every gesture in whatever iteration. we’ve connected our remote speaker and played his music during our happy hour, i’ve listened with ear buds on soundcloud, spotify, iTUNES. but tomorrow…
it is with much pride we will stand and watch our son. it is with much pride that we will be surrounded by his friends and by the community. it is with much pride that we’ll dance and cheer along with the gathered crowd. it is with much pride that we celebrate pride.
we went back to the beach. it was only our third time there but it’s beginning to feel familiar. we know the driftwood to lean back against, the curve in the shoreline where the waves break. the sand is warm, the breeze off the lake is cool; it’s a perfect combination and we’ve brought sandwiches along. we walk with our heads down, searching for hagstones and beach glass. it’s a sanctuary minus the trappings – physical and emotional – one often finds in buildings with sanctuaries.
each rock is intriguing. there are infinite shapes and sizes, rocks of all imagination. i pick up more than i tuck away, but i appreciate the spectrum of diversity and i wonder where they have been before they arrived on this lake michigan shoreline. what’s the story behind each stone, behind the tiny bits of glass, behind the wave-beaten-smooth pieces of brick. each narrative counts.
we brought a book but we didn’t read it. we hadn’t started it yet. we do that later in the day. rebecca makkai’s “the great believers” – a good read for pride month, a profound novel highlighting the aids crisis starting early to mid 1980s. there are places familiar to us in this book – chicago, boystown, door county – we find it easy to immerse as we read aloud. we are transported in time – back to those days of early recognition of this dreadful viral infection. human immunodeficiency virus has not ceased and there are still millions of people with life-threatening and chronic symptoms. there are stories familiar to us in this book – for we are both artists and we both finished our undergrad work in the early 80s. there are people familiar to us in this book – though these are characters, in life they have been our friends and, now, they are the friends of our son, the tight-knit unconditionally-loving LGBTQ community. they are all treasured and unique hagstones and beachglass – gorgeous in human form.
the stash of rocks ended up on the dining room table, all fanned out on its worn surface. they are glorious bits of a stunning day. the stone that looked like a guitar pick with a feather beret cap stayed on the beach. i took it home in my camera instead.
we have plans for the next time. more snacks. maybe swimwear.
we have plans for pride in chicago. more compassion. maybe tie-dye.
we are merely two people walking on a vast beach, among zillions of beautiful rocks of all sorts, zillions of people of all sorts. it’s all familiar. it’s all unfamiliar. but it’s all a sanctuary under one sun.
it seems so simple. love is love. not a lot to argue with there.
yet, there are those dedicated – no, rabid – about setting down deplorable narrow-minded rules about who-can-love-whom and the rights and freedoms of those whose love is for someone of the same gender.
it seems so simple. love is love.
yet, the crimes of hatred are aimed at the LGBTQ+ community every single day and leaders in government push to strip back protections insuring every single person’s ability to – simply – live in love.
it seems so simple. love is love.
yet, churches – sanctimonious, full of hypocrisy – spew pious words supposedly meant to revere, words canonized, words conveniently warped to fit agenda. we read the other day that a texas preacher declared all gay people should be lined up and shot in the head. where do you even start with that? what jesus would sign off on that kind of revolting hostility?
it seems so simple. love is love.
yet, this story of fighting for the freedom to love-whom-one-wishes-to-love goes on and on and on. and to what end? because power and control and aggression and anger and bigoted, intolerant ignorance rear their ugly heads and are loud, self-righteous, autocratic.
it seems so simple. love is love.
yet, our son – who we love so much, of whom we are proud – must concern himself with the cruelty of people who feel “their way” supersedes any other way, the frightened despicable heterosexuals with checklists of “normal”, and legislation, “religious freedom” and big guns to back them up.
it seems so simple. love is love.
yet, there is pushback against people just living, people just loving. wasn’t that the point – to live, to love others? what other point is there, really? how does the expression go? “and then you die.”
june 1 – the first day of pride month. according to the library of congress: “the commemorative month is meant to recognize the sweeping impact that LGBT individuals, advocates and allies have on history in the U.S. and around the globe.”
as we head into this month of celebrations and parades, symposia and concerts, i am achingly hopeful for our world and our attitudes and acceptance of each other as we are.
i want my children to be in a world that is limitless, that looks for the best in each other, that allows them, and everyone else, to be in a reciprocated relationship that speaks to them, to their soul, regardless of gender. (or race or economic status or or or…) so when you ask them why they are in the relationship, they would each respond, “it’s the way he/she moves me.”
reverse threading 