PUTTING THE B IN LGBT
We couldn't quite see your face in the herd of people marching down the center of Fourth Avenue during Sunday's Pride Parade. We nearly missed you among the streams of balloons and bubbles. But while we couldn't see your face, we did see your brown arms holding up a sign that read "Bi Is Beautiful Too." On an emotionally difficult Pride to attend—so soon after the shootings in Orlando targeting a Latino dance night in a gay bar—your royal-blue-and-magenta hand-painted sign quickly brought happy tears to our eyes. It was an important reminder to queer people of color that our sexuality is valid and that there are many identities under the LGBTQ umbrella.
SKIPPING THE PARADE IN MOUNT BAKER
During downtown's Pride Parade, you, a 4-year-old boy wearing leggings printed with fluorescent pink-and-yellow ice cream cones, proudly brought us to a room in your new house in Mount Baker. You wanted to show us the decorations you had just put on your bedroom wall. In addition to pictures of dogs dressed as police officers and fire fighters from the Nickelodeon show PAW Patrol, you had hung two photographs taken last summer at your uncles' wedding. You pointed out your favorite photo, the one of two men embracing each other in profile, wearing sharply tailored suits and matching bow ties, leaning their foreheads against each other, forever happy and in love. Then you jumped off your bed and ran off in search of banana bread.
ANOTHER SIGN OF THE TIMES
You were a pregnant woman with flawless red lipstick walking in the Pride Parade representing Christ Episcopal Church. You wore black patent-leather Birkenstocks and a white clerical collar. You carried a sign reading "More Lipstick, Less Police. High Femme Clergy Against the Prison Industrial Complex." Amen, sister.
MAYOR MURRAY HAS A MOMENT
We saw Seattle mayor Ed Murray take the stage at the Cuff block party on Pride Sunday and deliver an astutely short speech. People were glad to see the gay mayor, sure, but there was a lot of drinking and cruising and dancing still to be done—plus any time the mayor took up was just one more delay in the rest of us getting to hear from MC Alaska Thunderfuck. Acknowledging this, the mayor gave what appeared to be a three-sentence speech. (Granted, we may not have counted super accurately given the beer pitcher we were holding.) Sentence 1: Here's my husband, Michael! Sentence 2: After Orlando, we can't give in to fear, and being at the Cuff is a refusal to give in to fear! Sentence 3: Also, don't forget that what we're here to celebrate is diversity! And that was it. Given the wild reaction as Murray left the stage, it may have been the best speech of his tenure.
IN HONOR OF THE BEST SPEECH OF MAYOR MURRAY'S TENURE
Here's a photo of him posing with a dog at the parade.
AND NOW TO RUIN THAT WARM AND FUZZY FEELING
We saw you, a gay man in your early 30s, we'd guess, weary from a long night of drinking and celebration, eyeliner smudged, just trying to get your burrito on with your boyfriend at the Tacos Guaymas on Broadway on Saturday night. An alarmingly drunk girl behind you in line raised her voice—she might have doubted your ability to pay, spewed (possibly homophobic?) insults, or just directed some incoherent, unfocused anger your way. We couldn't quite hear. And then, seemingly unprovoked, she slapped you—clumsily, repeatedly, as we watched paralyzed with fear. "Look at that mess of a blonde-ass bitch," you said, just before she fell dramatically into a stranger's lap and onto a table full of guacamole. "She fell! BYE-BYE! Yeah, get some food on your white dress!" you shouted as she stumbled. At that point you had, by all accounts, won. We cheered her imminent departure from Tacos Guaymas and were about to ask if you were all right. But no. That was not the end of it. "Bye, Russia!" you hollered, retaliating as she was dragged out the door, sobbing. If you hadn't added, "Go back to where you came from!" her boyfriend may not have stormed back inside. But you did, and then her boyfriend tried to beat you with a chair. We couldn't decide whose side we were on. We were on no one's side. We were on the side of everyone who was sad to see that (duh) fighting hatred with more hatred just leads to late-night brawls in Mexican restaurants and interviews with the SPD. It would have been nice to see someone walk out with their dignity intact, but nope.