Pride has always been important for queer communities and individuals. As many of us know, Pride started with the Stonewall Riots in 1969, and one year later, a celebration of the accomplishments made on the anniversary birthed the first LGBTQ+ Pride marches. After thirty years of effort, June became officially recognized as LGBTQ+ Pride Month by the U.S. government. In Kentucky, we have a lot of rural areas, and Pride was fairly uncommon in many towns until roughly the past ten years. However, pride in rural areas is a crucial piece of decreasing experiences of isolation and ostracization felt by many queer Kentuckians. 

I grew up in a small, Kentucky town as a queer, nonbinary individual. I experienced intense loneliness, being one of very few openly queer people in my peer group. This led to ostracization, loneliness, mental health issues, and feelings that something was inherently wrong with me. Despite these overwhelming obstacles, I was able to attend my first Pride event as a teenager. It was Lex Pride in Lexington.

It was at this event that I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders – it was the first time I was able to experience a true sense of community. Until that point, I had no idea what I was lacking, and this pride event showed me that it was a community full of people like myself. While I still struggle with the inherent oppression that LGBTQ+ people face, I can now look back on my many experiences at Pride Festivals and know that I am not alone, and I never will be. 

Furthermore, Pride taught me a lot about queer culture and history, such as Sweet Evening Breeze, who grew up in Scott County just as I did. Sweets was a brilliant activist, managing to protect queer friends by fighting unfair legal action. Her home was open to many LGBTQ+ people, providing a safe space for queer events, conversation, and activism plans. She is an inspiration, and a reminder that queer people from rural areas can achieve great things for our community. 

While these topics are often easier to learn about now, it was quite a feat while I was a teenager. At a Pride festival, one can hear the history straight from the source of a queer person that has experienced it. It is also inspiring as a young queer person to go to an event and see so many like-minded, older people that were able to survive the turmoils of being queer in rural areas. It instills hope, which is something that numerous LGBTQ+ people, particularly youths, deserve and often need to grow into who they truly are. 

Quinn Barnes, 26, who grew up in Lee and Estill County said that Pride Festivals contributed a sense of belonging and freedom to them. 

photo provided by Quinn Barnes.

“I came from an area where being openly queer and gender non-conforming resulted in various forms of hate, from bullying to physical violence,” they said. “Experiencing my first pride at the age of 17 changed me dramatically, and made me realize that not every one would react so aggressively toward my simple existence. I’ve never felt more loved or accepted, nor more normal than I have at my first pride.” 

Not only does pride allow queer people to experience feelings of community and safety, but it also gives queer folks a sense of normalcy, which is often robbed from those in rural areas after experiencing extensive ridicule. 

Willow Morgan, 24, who grew up in Louisville, and now resides in Richmond, responded that their attendance at a few Louisville pride events while growing up were lovely experiences. 

photo provided by Willow Morgan

“The Pride Festivals in Richmond are extra special,” they said. “I meet so many people, all of different backgrounds, and get to see awesome new perspectives. I love seeing people who are proud of their gender and sexual identity, but it’s also so good to befriend those who grew up in very rural areas and didn’t have a lot of support… it helped me realize that I wasn’t the only one who didn’t really know how to label myself when I was a kid.” 

As shown by Morgan’s experiences, Pride also adds community in showing the diversity of what being “Queer” means. These events show that there’s not one, defined way to be LGBTQ+, but so many different options to be one’s authentic self. Morgan also wanted to highlight that the festivals are both celebratory and a reminder of the importance of mutual aid within LGBTQ+ communities. 

Queer organizations like Pride can show LGBTQ+ people that there is community to be found if we search for it. Pride is a great resource for finding a place to be authentic, and still feel safety in doing so. Moreover, Pride can provide resources that queer folks may not be aware of.

Jax Flowers, 26, who grew up near Seattle and partially in Lexington, highlighted the importance of the life-saving resources provided at many Pride Festivals. He said LGBTQ+ people care about each other, and work to provide safety for the entire community. 

Photo provided by Jax Flowers.

“I have a unique experience with pride because I moved from a pretty liberal area to Kentucky–just before I figured out who I was as a queer person,” he said. “When I got the courage to go to Pride for the first time, I realized just how many of us there were…I found resources: places that would take me in if my parents kicked me out, groups that I could talk to when I was feeling overwhelmed by the magnitude of being a closeted queer kid at home and out at school. I started the day dressed in grey, and ended it covered in rainbows and love.” 

Pride is crucial in rural areas, and provides so many benefits to individuals in the queer community. Through the immense efforts taken by queer people before us, LGBTQ+ communities are now able to show just how proud we are, while continuing political action simultaneously, which honors our history, and paves the way for future LGBTQ+ people. We continue to follow in the footsteps of the creators of what we now call Pride, such as Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, and Jackie Hormone.