Photo: My friend, Ginger, expressing himself at Pride (photo by Tom Kern)

Well, make that my first FULL San Francisco Pride.  Last year, I was in New Orleans for the annual meeting of the American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors, and Therapists up through Saturday night, but I was in town for the big Pride event at the Civic Center on Sunday.  In 2009, however, I was able to be part of the full experience of Pride in San Francisco – what is really a week long (some would say month long) series of parties, rallies, marches, and parades.  Quite frankly, it blew my mind.

Maybe it was the heat (85F  - I’ve gotten soft since I left Texas) or maybe it was feeling worn out after months of being beaten down by the constant fighting against the right wing or the infighting among the different segments of the queer community or maybe it was the consistent feelings of disappointment we’ve experienced with the Obama Administration’s lack of action regarding LGBT civil rights that made everything feel so intense and real.  Even my seasoned SF Pride friends said that something seemed different this year.  Maybe despite the events of the last twelve months, we feel a sense of real hope that there is the real possibility of change – and not just regarding marriage,...

When I came out to my very loving, supportive and well-intentioned parents during my youth, they were worried that I would have a harder life because of being gay. They had no clue where to turn for accurate, dependable information, resources and research that would help them in their journey to understand and support me. They were terrified and felt alone. They didn’t understand that how they reacted to me (with acceptance, tolerance, rejection) would have a direct impact on my future health and mental health.  They couldn’t then realize that how they reacted would directly impact my ability to live, thrive, merely survive or even consider suicide. They were never trained in how to deal with my developmental needs. They couldn’t make recommendations about doctors and therapists appropriately trained to work both with me and with them. They never learned how to address the social/peer victimization I was facing and they never learned how to talk about my being gay with our ultra conservative family members. To this day, they still struggle with how to maintain loving relationships with their own friends and our family who reject me and their acceptance and support of me.