BOYSTOWN — If one thing was clear during a Pride parade halted by protests demanding better inclusivity, it's that Pride, and the celebrations that surround it, mean different things to different people.
After 48 years, Chicago's Pride Parade has grown from a grassroots protest of a few hundred to a massive demonstration of acceptance and love, with nearly 1 million attendees and marchers, including politicians, police officers, activists and so many big brands and corporations that organizers have to limit how many can participate.
For some who feel their letters are lost in the alphabet soup of LGBTQ, Pride has a more complex meaning: one that is rife with inequity for those who need the uplifting acceptance and services the most.
We asked 16 people to explain what Pride means to them in 2017. Whether it's a celebration of all that it means to be queer, a reminder of how far there is to go in the fight for equality, or a place to take a stand, the concept of pride was explained in many colors.
Here's what they had to say.
Erica Ramon, 35, who grew up in Little Village:
Ramon: I'm out here because this is the one day — even though now it's more common and more accepted — this is the day we can be ourselves and feel like you're not being judged today in front of everyone.
There's certain places you go, and they don't want you there. Sometimes you can't hold hands. You know what I mean? Or you can't kiss. And here, you can just do it, and everyone's OK with it. Today is a free-for-all for everyone, even just the straight people who are here.
I'm married with two kids, and it's their first time [at the parade.] They get to see a lot of love. They're super geeked.
Adam Friedlander, 32, who marched Sunday with Center on Halsted:
Friedlander: I've been going to [the parade] pretty consistently since I was 17. I snuck out of my parent's house. I can't even remember who I went with, but it was a youth group. And it was just amazing. I made a little sign that I hid in my backpack that said, 'Kiss me, I'm queer.' All of these people were coming out and hugging me.
When I got home, I just cried, because it was the first time anyone had actually made me feel good about who I am.
I was in the closet for a really long time. In some ways, I've always been sort of on the fence about things, and recently I decided to identify as non-binary [gender-nonconforming].
And I guess, for me, what Pride means is just not being afraid anymore. I lived so long being afraid of what my parents thought, of what my school thought, that now I'm just really happy to be here and see all these people and know you're not alone.
You have to be proud of who you are, whether it's internally or externally, body, gender — whatever it may be. It eats you [if you don't]. It really does kill you from the inside. And there are so many people who don't have the opportunity to feel proud about themselves.
I was supposed to be here with my daughter, Aria. She's 6, but she got pneumonia right before. Her first Pride parade was last year, and I hope when she looks around she sees there are good, wonderful people. I think too often we try to shelter our kids from the dangers, and often the dangers aren't that dangerous, you know? I want her to be able to look at somebody and not see 'a gay,' but just see a person. And teaching your kid not to hate is so important.
If I could talk to my 17-year-old self, I'd say, 'Don't give up. I know you feel so alone, but the time will come where you will be able to be yourself. Your family becomes the people who love you, the people who are there for you. That's the most important.'
Kiki Pierre, 30, who lives in Englewood:
Pierre: I'm marching with Equality Illinois because I've been volunteering with them, and it's my first time in the parade. I'm just really happy. I know I'm going to have fun.
I came out earlier this year. I identify as sapphic pansexual, so I lean toward lesbian. It's like I'm in-between or something.
I think Pride is great for visibility, and it's great for people to get together and celebrate what they are and who they are. I call myself an intersectional feminist because I believe there's a lot of oppression in the LGBTQ community and outside of it, and I feel like they're connected. And I don't feel like anyone should be excluded.
David Scherer, who was born in Tokyo:
Scherer: I actually thought about this a little bit. The reason I'm marching this year is because, especially with the political climate we have, I think it's important to celebrate the organizations that give LGBTQ individuals a safe space to be themselves. I played in a volleyball league in the Athletic Alliance of Chicago for the past eight years, and it's given me an outlet to be athletic and competitive in a safe space where I don't have to worry about people judging me or talking about my partner, my life choices.
This isn't something I normally do. I don't normally wear drag, and I don't normally like big events, because I'm kind of an introvert. But I make myself do this every year, because [the athletic alliance] gives so much to me, and this is the one thing I can do for them each year is to be on the float and have a good time.
I work for the U.S. Department of Labor, and I work with nonprofits developing employment programs to help people coming out of prison, youth who dropped out of high school and people working in jobs in factories that are becoming obsolete and training them for new jobs.
I really do see, every day, the impact that our programs have. There's so much change going on, and we don't really know what's happening. We're a little worried. The [federal] budget that is proposed is cutting quite a bit of what we're doing already, so there's some unease. But I'm trying to be optimist about it.
Tommy Franson, who grew up in Osseo, Wis, population: 1,701:
Franson: Pride? It's hard to describe; it's a feeling. But for me, what it boils down to is acceptance of oneself. Pride is pride in yourself, in your community and where you come from. For me, coming from a small town in Wisconsin, it means cutting out half of my family.
We just never connected. I never felt comfortable spending time at family birthday parties, because they were mean kids. But to kind of come into my own and accept myself, choosing to cut that out of my life has been so healthy for me.
It wasn't easy, choosing not to go to my family's anniversaries and birthdays, but I'm not comfortable with them, because they're not comfortable with me. And that's too bad for them.
It sucks, because you want the relationships, and family is important. But I can point out a hundred members of my family right here. Choosing your family is really important, too.
I moved to Chicago initially in 2010, but moved back to take care of my grandfather for a couple of years. But I just couldn't make it work. I couldn't be happy in a small town. There was just something about Chicago and something about the acceptance here that called to me.
Omi Bartov, Katie Schuette, Tonya Dunsmoor and Matt Rillie:
Rillie: Pride is the comfort to finally be yourself. That's amazing. That's priceless. We can be authentically ourselves and unapologetically queer in public. Even wearing these shoes and makeup, it's a resistance and a celebration of your genuine happiness.
Dunsmoor: In high school, I remember fighting to get our Gay Straight Alliance a place, so being able to celebrate where we have a place is just amazing to see.
Rillie: It's finally getting your mom to see this is really real, and it's not a phase.
Your family is more than just blood — it's queer family.
Schuette: It's going to be OK.
Rillie: So if you feel like it won't be OK, as for help. Please ask for help, and we will respond. We will find you.
Eros, 22, who came to Pride with her friend Kayla, 21, from Naperville:
Eros: I'm celebrating just being free and being who you are. This is my first Pride being out as a trans woman. I feel so free and so happy right now.
It was a very tough process, because I came out actually last year. I've always been bisexual, but it felt so much better, like I had something restricting me.
Pride means, to me, a day where we can know no restrictions, just free expressions. It's a day to be free of insecurities no matter your sexual orientation, your race, your gender or size or weight or your skin color.
Kayla: It's just such a great place. Everyone is so friendly and open. It's a safe place.
Lea DeLaria, who plays Big Boo on "Orange Is the New Black" and had just a brief moment to talk before leading the Pride Parade as its grand marshal:
DeLaria: What does Pride mean to me? [flashing thumbs up] A great place to pick up chicks.
Lola Medina, 26, who lives in DeKalb [right]:
Medina: This is my first parade in four years. I came out to represent, especially because of what's going on in politics these days and what happened at Pulse. I feel like it's really important to come out and support because if you don't, they then win, right?
We have to make sure that we remain. Because if we don't come out and attend events like this and show the love we have for each other, then what's the point?
I'm a bisexual, cisgender female, and to me, Pride is joy. Pride is happiness. Pride is everything that makes us a community. It's love. That's what it is.
Khayleen Wrightwood, 21, [center] who came to the parade with Melissa Rohman, 22, of Elmhurst:
Wrightwood: I'm just celebrating being openly gay. A lot of people are afraid of who they are, because they feel like they won't be accepted, but parades like this help everyone know they do have a place.
Rohman: Pride means love and acceptance and realizing we're all just humans, despite our differences. We're perfectly imperfect. I came here to support Khayleen. We were roommates, but now she's really my best friend.
Malia Santiago, 30, who is not joking when she says she knows "all the kids" in Boystown:
Santiago: I work with Youth Empowerment Performance Project, and I'm the community engagement coordinator. I actually know all the kids — [aside] Hi, Shanti! — and Pride to me is a space we've created to get together and celebrate our love and our life and our freedom to love who we want to love. And have a good f---ing time doing it.
There's still a lot of prejudices going on, a lot of hatred. If we were completely accepted, we wouldn't need special laws to tell us we're allowed to get married. The law would just include everyone.
I came out completely when I was 18 that I was trans. I came out in the seventh grade that I was bisexual, and it was difficult. I grew up in Colorado. I decided I wanted a new life, I guess, and I came here. I always wanted to live in Chicago and try something different.
We are a broken community. We aren't a community. We create a lot of violence in our community toward each other. There's a lot of animosity just in the trans community ... a lot of violence we create and a lot of f---ed up thought processes that need to be deconstructed.
We're putting together a workshop addressing this — [greeted by a passerby] Hey! — deconstructing violence in the trans and gender nonconforming community. So right now, I'm starting with my community, the trans and gender nonconforming community. [aside, to another passerby] Hey, boo! Hi.
