Belated Chicago Pride Report

 

 

 

After three years living in Hell’s Kitchen, I thought I knew all there was to know about gay pride. As Chelsea has become prohibitively expensive, and overrun by straights, the gay community in Manhattan began venturing north sometime in the early 2000s. By the time I moved to West 47^th Street in August 2005, there was already a thriving community of theater-centric gay men running our little area just west of Times Square. Well, gay men and female prostitutes. Some businesses never die.  

So a few weeks ago, back here in Chicago, I was not exactly enthusiastic when a friend asked if I was going to the Pride Parade. Why would I need to go to the Pride Parade? I saw my own version every Saturday night as the Broadway Boyz wondered my ‘hood and, like many adopted-transplanted New Yorkers, I thought I had seen everything I needed to because I saw it in New York.  

But, on Sunday, June 28 (both the 40^th anniversary of the Stonewall riots and the 40^th annual Chicago Pride Parade) the sun was shining, the east bound bus was perfectly timed and I found myself at Diversey and Cannon, right where the parade ended and the party began. Hells Kitchen has never seen anything like this. 

Chicago has long been welcoming to the gay community: North Halstead (Chicago’s answer to Chelsea) has been lined with rainbow colored, phallic lampposts for years and the Pride Parade regularly attracts bigwig politicos looking for votes from the crowd of nearly 500,000. There are also a number of commercial interests that come out to try to hawk their goods to the massive audience, supported by employees in rainbow garb. Who knew that Starbucks and Lay’s Potato chips cared so deeply about the gay community?  

And, predictably, there were a number of Evangelical Christians who came out to scream about the abomination of homosexuality and advise participants and audience members alike about the dangers of sodomy, sex out of wedlock, masturbation, etc. Perhaps a 20 person force had busted out their best banners and signs to preach about Jesus to the unholy masses and the many Chicago police officers who were forced to protect them while they spouted their unpopular message.  

Having seen the Parade in the past, I knew there would be a less-than-supportive element. What I hadn’t expected was the amazing Parade backlash! One gentleman, along with a few pals, had set up shop directly in front of the Bible thumpers, about three feet away and with more fire power. As the wannabe recruiters yelled about the fire and brimstone awaiting the sinners, his opponent, armed with mountains of speakers and exceptional patience, repeated “Bigots go home” over and over and over. The only space to pass was in between them, which proved unnerving thanks to the competing volume and the massive police presence. But watching the Parade deal with this unwelcome addition was awesome. Equally amazing was the shirtless guy who followed the Jesus freaks around, telling them “I forgive you.” But the response I liked best was the woman who stood, quietly holding a sign that read “God blessed me with a gay son.”  

I’ve heard that every day is Pride Day in New York, and after experiencing it first hand, I can largely agree. But what Chicago may lack in frequency, they more than make up for in fervor. The concentrated effort of the city, the participants, and the attendees was amazing to see, but the cumulative fight against those who openly judged them was the real show stopper for me. Rather than fight hate with hate, the Parade went on its merry way, calmly informing the Evangelicals that they should probably take a hike. New York has seen worse behavior at a Jets game, with far less instigation. Point, classy Chicago gays.  

*By Jesy: Pride supporter since 2009.

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