A Tribute to Stonewall’s 55th Anniversary — Revisioning Pride Month

by mike morse (they/he) 06/26/2024

In honor of the 55th anniversary of the Stonewall Rebellion/Uprising on June 28, 1969

Photo from here.

This year marks the 55th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising, the event that resulted in the first pride parades the following year (1970). Though not the introduction to gay rights, this rebellion undoubtedly assisted in the streamlining of the centuries old queer liberation movements. Over the past five decades, participants, historians, and writers have all contributed to confirming the narrative of what really went down in and around the bar that night, to the best of their ability. Regarding who threw the first stone, brick, or punch, the question receives varying responses.

In this six-minute interview on YouTube, Stormé DeLarverie (aka the “Stonewall Lesbian”) makes a point to correct the description of the response to police presence at the Stonewall Inn that night as a rebellion, not a riot. The difference may seem minimal to some, but the distinction is clear. Rebellion is defined as “the action or process of resisting authority, control, or convention”, while a riot is “a violent disturbance of the peace by a crowd.” While both suggest violence, the first is intentional and in response to an oppressive force, while the latter suggests unorganized, reactionary behavior.

The fighting that broke out at the bar in the early morning of June 28, 1969 was merely a fed-up backlash to the repeated raids and arrests of patrons of gay bars. The Public Morals Division of the NYPD performed ‘vice control’ tactics in order to limit public displays of gambling, prostitution, homosexuality, and drug use. On this night, however, the queer patrons fought back. According to Stormé, her “initiating” punch was delivered to an officer in reaction to her being clubbed by the cop first, which spurred others to join in to rebel against the oppressive police force.

I think it says a lot that Stormé did not care for her identity as the “Stonewall Lesbian” to be known to the world. For decades, the names of Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera have been recognized as the organizing faces of the Stonewall Rebellion. Interestingly, Johnson herself admitted she didn’t arrive at the bar until 2 AM, meaning she couldn’t have started the uprising. Rivera, in 2001, stated “I have been given the credit for throwing the first Molotov cocktail. But I always like to correct it. I threw the second one” (both quotes can be found in this video). The fame these women received, however, helped pave a strong legacy of Black trans women working to further the queer liberation movement.

Johnson, Rivera, and other Black trans women (such as Miss Major) played a crucial role in the queer community in NYC at the time, and I think letting them “take the credit” (for lack of better words) for initiating the rebellion was purposeful and essential for queer and trans liberation to get to the place it is today. The narratives from this night tell the story that this was not an actively pre-planned action led by Black trans women. Rather, it was a necessary, aggressive response by all who were present to police brutality and oppression by the state against all LGBTQ+ people at the time. However, beyond Stonewall, trans women, and particularly Black trans women, have continually shown up, protected, and watched out for their communities. This is a detail that queer and trans revolutionaries need to keep in mind as we continue our fight for liberation.

The phrase “the first pride was a riot” has been floating around during pride gatherings for decades. While it’s an easy catch phrase to remember, I think it unintentionally waters down the reality of the rebellions and early prides that existed.

The Stonewall Uprising and other acts of civil disobedience occurring around that time were protests, not riots. A year later, the first pride parades were planned in major US cities such as Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and of course New York City, to honor the patrons at Stonewall and to celebrate the advancement of queer liberation. Presently, I believe the intention of the phrase “the first pride was a riot” holds the goal of remembering and honoring history, while also signifying, non-explicitly, that rainbow capitalism has taken over pride month. Merely repeating the phrase, however, does little to nothing materially to counter this reality.

Modern prides are sponsored by banks, corporations, and defense contractors. My local, corporate-sponsored pride just posted a thank you on their Facebook page to Northrop Grumman for being a sponsor and for waiving a rainbow flag outside their office. I was dumbfounded and disgusted at this post, and may not attend this corporate, rainbow-washed pride this year because of it. This is the epitome of co-opted pride to me. Companies who profit off the killings of hundreds of thousands of innocent people should not be sponsoring our prides — and if they do, we should not be content with this.

Pride marches for decades have been a place for the queer community to come together in face of intersecting oppressions that queer people face. Below are some images from the 2009 Toronto Dyke March (top, posted May 29) and 2006 Toronto Pride (bottom, posted May 9) respectively, each showing support for the end of the Zionist occupation in Palestine. The top banner reads “Queers Against Israeli Apartheid — Free Palestine” and the bottom says “Jewish Women Against The Occupation” (photo credits to onyour.knees on instagram).

This next photo is from the 1994 Chicago Pride Parade (posted June 6). Homocore Chicago created this banner to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the Stonewall Rebellion, commenting on the capitalist rainbow-washing occurring 30 years ago. The banner reads “Stonewall Was A Riot — Not A Brand Name”, centering a barcode juxtaposed on an upside down pink triangle (photo credit to homohistoric on instagram).

Political theorists and philosophers, from Karl Marx to MLK, have commented for centuries on how capitalism actively impairs political action and community organizing. Marx states that while it’s human nature to desire and build ‘true community’, urban industrial capitalism creates environments and living conditions that directly oppose this true community, whether by limiting time and/or resources, or promoting isolating individualism. The intrusion of rainbow capitalism in pride only creates yet another barrier to achieving true queer liberation through community care.

I’m worried that a new slogan that I’ve seen introduced this year, “no pride in genocide”, as a response to the genocides in Palestine and around the world, will quickly lose it’s meaning and be disregarded by many people, both identifying as straight or LGBT+. The points these phrases are attempting to make are significant, but words without actions are meaningless.

In my opinion, too large of a percentage of the LGBT+ population does not see a problem with corporate rainbow washing at pride. They are grateful to feel “accepted” and “represented” by their employer or from the companies to which they give business.

A significant reason for this definitely stems from generational queer trauma — a lot of people who feel they lost years of their lives either denying that they’re gay or hiding that fact about themselves now genuinely feel proud and excited to be able to exist as themselves publicly. This truly is a great experience, but this joy and acceptance should be what is pushed in pride month, not extravagant displays of rainbows paid for by corporations who could not care less whether we live or die.

In order to truly honor the “first pride” (Stonewall) rebellion and to back up the statement no pride in genocide, our pride months must have more action going into them than just celebrations of visibility — they need to undergo a revolutionary reshaping. Celebration isn’t enough when hundreds of thousands of innocent people are being killed by the corporations and companies funding these street festivals. Visibility isn’t enough when members of our own community still struggle with having their basic needs met. In fact, Luce deLire argues that visibility and representational justice harm trans people:

After the visibility of trans people of color increased in the United States in 2014, the violence seemed to worsen dramatically. The number of murders of trans people grew in 2015 by 50 percent. […] [T]ransgender women and people of color [are still] experiencing the highest rate of violence. […] The continued increase in murders of trans women of color underscores the deep need for political strategies other than simple visibility or invisibility […]

In her full text, Beyond Representational Justice (which I highly recommend everyone read), deLire provides examples outside of visibility and subversion that can materially change the lived realities of trans people.

At this time, I see two distinct types of pride planning occurring in American society. I have seen a number of grassroots organizing and event planning that do focus more on catering to community events, liberation, and sustainability. These events seem to focus more on providing a safe space for the people who attend, rather than having a goal of maximizing attendance or profit. In a couple days, I will be attending a pride event in the large city near me that is essentially a fundraiser for Gaza, where all earnings sold at the event will be distributed back directly to families and people suffering from genocide. This is exactly what I mean by necessitating action following words.

More locally, there is another pride event I attended (I’ll call it my local “small business pride”) that focuses more on hosting family-friendly events where queer and trans youth can exist freely and comfortably in public, especially since my area is rather conservative and quite anti-queer. As a critical person, I definitely still see areas in which these “small-business” pride events could grow and have more potential as well, but it feels so much more community-focused already than the local corporate-sponsored pride I mentioned earlier, which seemingly caters around providing a playground for proudly out, middle-class LGBT+ adults (and most events outside of the parade itself have an affiliated fee.) While these large, corporate pride parades and festivals can be a lot of fun, (and I believe are worth experiencing, even just once), they do very little to actually promote queer liberation.

To conclude, I’ve taken the time to attempt to lay out some ways in which I believe pride months can organize events that better the lives of the queer people living in that area/community.

Firstly, organizers for pride months should hold discussion groups to assess and figure out what needs their community has that are not being met.

There should be events throughout the month ensuring free food is available, as food insecurity is high in queer populations.

There should be a clothing swap event — a good chance for folks to get rid of old clothes and give other queer and trans people an opportunity to increase their gender affirming wardrobe.

There should be an interactive, educational event on food sustainability in which people can learn how to grow their own edible plants.

Some ideally FREE fun events can be scattered throughout the month. If paid events are held, if possible, there should be sliding scale/scholarship/free spots available on as needed basis.

And finally, at the end of the month, we should conclude the month with a big parade, a street party, a bazaar/venders market (NOT for corporations, but for queer individuals to promote their art and products) — a celebration for us all to be grateful for each other and the community that we have created.

Stonewall was a rebellion. A collective refusal to bend down to police brutality and oppression by the state. If we want to honor the rebel spirit our queer and trans ancestors possessed 55 years ago, we need to demand our pride months be rebuilt and organized with the focus of community care. Let’s envision a future where pride months are revolutionary, grounded in liberation movements, and provide space for joy and celebration!

Want to see your writing featured on Queering the Dots? Send an email to mike.michal.morse@gmail.com or contact Queering the Dots on Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook.

Liked this writing? Subscribe to our Patreon for more thought piece essays, podcast episodes, and exclusive content for patrons.