Pride and Pandemic

THIS ENTRY WAS POSTED ON June 12, 2020 BY AMANDA FAYE JIMENEZ.

Pride & Pandemic

by Amanda-Faye Jimenez

Full disclosure, I definitely agreed to write this blog about my feelings on Pride in a pandemic before the official start of what looks to be the biggest civil rights movement since, well, THE Civil Rights Movement.

I was asked on the strength of a caption to a meme I made about missing Pride because of Covid-19. (See below). I wrote about how sad I was feeling that we wouldn’t get to gather publicly en masse to celebrate LGBTQ Pride this year, the importance that sharing physical space with the community holds for many of us, and the uncertainty of when we’d be able to do it again.

Failureprincess Pride 2020 Meme from Instagram

Of course, that was before I knew groups of us would be standing side by side much sooner than we thought, in the streets in protest or holding vigils to honor and demand justice for those who have been murdered by the inherently racist institution that is police forces.

Here are some things I would probably have said, Before:

● It’s ok to be bummed about the fact that Pride won’t be what we’re used to this year, and possibly for many years to come. I have no doubt that when we celebrate Pride together in person again, it will be even more joyous than ever.

● Will dental dam make-outs be the wave of the future?

Pride is political. When shifts in public opinion occur over time, it’s like some folks want to rewrite history to imagine that the oppressors woke up one day seeing the error of their ways and handed us our rights. That’s not how this works at all. Those who fought for Gay Liberation were stigmatized, criminalized, harassed, and beaten by police. They had to break the law to exist, and to expose how very unjust those laws were. Pride today is a demonstration of our visibility, in solidarity with LGBTQ people around the world, and an acknowledgement that we still have a long way to go toward achieving true equality and justice, especially for trans people and LGBTQ people who are Black, disabled, or in poverty and houselessness. Like any other movement for social change, we’re not free until all of us are free.

● Pride is also a party, a celebration of the spaces we create for each other and all the love that goes into that. This year, I think of my friends who work in queer nightlife, the organizers, producers, DJs, and performers who have pushed not only to make these parties and gatherings possible, but to make them safer and more inclusive. I feel afraid of losing the gay bars and clubs, already too few and far between, to the effects of Covid-19.

● Are we really having the “does sex(uality) belong at Pride?” discourse again this year? That seems especially cruel when there won’t even be any Pride festivals at which to be half-nude or kinky in the first place. Read the room!

● One exciting thing about Pride 2020 moving to the virtual world is increased access for people who may not have been able to participate otherwise.

● My official apology to people who like to use those remote control vibrators on their partner from across the room. We called you crazy, but you were simply ahead of your time.

Here is what I’m going to say now:

DEFUND THE POLICE.

Resources for Racial Justice:

Amanda-Faye Jimenez is a biracial Black/Latinx fat femme dyke writer, comedic performer, and a Los Angeles native. When she isn’t oversharing on stage, she can be found creating semi-relatable social media content @failureprincess on Instagram/Twitter and letting her dogs kiss her on the mouth, even though everyone keeps telling her that’s some white people shit.