30 For 30 — Day 25: Pride is Beautiful. Love is Love.
By: Pat Almquist
Tags: Pride, NYC

30 Days.

30 Photos.

30 Lessons.

Lesson 25: Pride is Beautiful. Love is Love.

That day in late June 2016 was beautiful. The sun was shining bright and I joined my new friends, Jeff and Monika, in the West Village to partake in the festivities.

We wove our way through the sidewalks and streets and posted up near the famous Stonewall Inn — the birthplace of NYC Pride after the riots that started there in late June 1969.

That day 47 years later in 2016 was pure joy. People of all different shapes, sizes, colors, creeds, religions, backgrounds all were here to celebrate NYC Pride in that one small neighborhood in Manhattan. The city already has a pulse and feels like a living organism, and on Pride that is amplified by the spirits of everyone who participates.

While I had lived in LA for 2.5 years and partied in the mecca that is West Hollywood, before being in NYC I had yet to celebrate and experience Pride to the level I got to after being in New York.

When June rolls around people are not only celebrating their Pride but celebrating the welcoming of summer. They had made it through the struggle of winter and now got to stretch their wings in the sun. It was a beautiful sight that I am sure was metaphorical for many who got to participate in Pride. Many who were raised in a setting where they couldn’t be themselves, were afraid to live their truth, afraid to love who they wanted to love…and then they got to NYC and could blossom. It was emotional and glorious for many.

As a spectator on the side it never felt like we were cheering and hugging because we only loved the people celebrating Pride…we were cheering and hugging because we got to witness those celebrating be themselves…we got to see them live their truth…show their love.

Sentimental stuff aside, Pride is also a BOP. Let’s make that clear. Those celebrating PUT. ON. A. SHOW.

In 2018 at the parade my then-girlfriend and I, along with many of her friends, stood once again near Stonewall Inn cheering and celebrating. Those are some of my favorite photos of us actually. The happiness and love is unbridled. It was contagious.

Some of those among us were enjoying their first NYC Pride. We hugged people and high fived, caught stickers and beads thrown from floats, sang songs as groups with speakers marched by, and celebrated that love is love is love is love.

One lovely man came strolling up to us in the parade and handed us a gift in a velvet bag. We got home and poured out my backpack and after the stickers and beads fell out the velvet bag followed and hit the ground with a heavy sound. We opened it up to find…a purple butt plug. Precious.

( we did some Googling and learned it was nice as far as butt plugs go. Who knew! $65 MSRP. If I am ever on bizarro Price is Right I will have that fun fact in my back pocket).

I used to love going to my rooftop in Williamsburg during Pride week and watching as the Empire State Building was lit up in rainbow colors. While I had only been living in NY for a couple years at that time I understood the importance of the changes that were happening. My dad tells a story of a time he was visiting the city…I might fudge some details but here’s how I remember it:

It was around 1980 and my dad and his friends were visiting the city. He had a nice leather jacket and they decided to go bar hopping. They found themselves at a bar in Greenwich Village and their night went off without a hitch. Towards the end of the night they began to leave the bar and my dad bumped into someone. Some words were exchanged but both parties eventually turned away but not before my dad felt someone yank on the back of his jacket. He turned but whoever had done it was gone.

Later that night one of my dad’s friends pointed out that there was a clean tear from shoulder to waist in my dad’s jacket. A cut that only a knife could have made seeing as the leather was cleanly cut. We can only assume someone did it in anger. We don’t know if they were trying to hurt him or if they were trying to just fuck up his jacket. Another wrinkle in the story is the motive. Was it just an angry person who he bumped into or was it someone who saw a group of men, in The Village, having fun together at this particular bar, and thought it was disgusting. We don’t know.

Later that year that same bar was in the news. If you Google “Ramrod Bar NYC” (yes...amazing name) you will see stories about the shooting where a man fired 60 rounds from an uzi into the bar killing two and injuring 6 more in November of 1980 in one of the most notorious homophobic hate crimes in NYC at that point.

NYC, needless to say, has come a long way. There is still prejudice everywhere but the steps are being taken and that is amazing to see and celebrate every year for NYC Pride.

Being a human and having friends that accept everyone is a blessing. I pat myself on the back for surrounding myself with such people, but also how lucky is it that I have found people who will challenge us to be better people, to accept those not like us, and to learn about how we can use our power to help those that need it…lucky as hell. Proud and thankful.

Pride is a beautiful thing.

Love is love is love is love is love.

Giddyup,

Pat