| In June of 1976, I stepped off a Trialways bus in San Francisco. I was one of thousands of young queer people looking for a new life of freedom and possibilities. Two short years later, I stood in front of City Hall, listening to Harvey Milk, the first openly gay elected official in the United States, give his now-famous “hope speech.” The audience, numbering in the of tens of thousands, gathered at the end of the Pride march route. In the seventies, less than ten years after Stonewall, we still called these events “marches”, not parades. They were political protests, assertions of our newly claimed sense of power and agency. But make no mistake – they were also celebrations. Harvey Milk was a familiar figure in the Castro neighborhood of San Francisco, where his camera shop also served as a headquarters for his repeated runs for San Francisco Board of Supervisors. He argued that it was important for gay people to seek political office to advance our cause. He connected the fight for gay freedom (as it was then known) to the other struggles for freedom in 20th century America: Black freedom, feminism, workers’ rights, etc. His speech at the Pride march in 1978 was all about hope: “…and the young gay people in the Altoona, Pennsylvanias, and the Richmond, Minnesotas, who are coming out and hear Anita Bryant on television and her story. The only thing they have to look forward to is hope. And you have to give them hope. Hope for a better world, hope for a better tomorrow, hope for a better place to come to if the pressures at home are too great. Hope that all will be all right. Without hope, not only gays, but the Blacks, the seniors, the handicapped…will give up.” If you know the rest of Harvey Milk’s story, you know that he was assassinated, along with San Francisco Mayor George Moscone, in November 1978. He served barely a year on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors. But the hope he helped generate did not die with him. His work became part of a legacy that started before him and grew exponentially in the following years. That is the power of a community imbued with hope. The gay community evolved into the LGBTQ+ community. The rainbow flag became many different rainbow flags. Over time, we learned about intersectionality and opened doors for the exploration of so many aspects or queer culture and queer life. We are still learning that it is not enough to find our own sense of safety in queer culture and the LGBTQ+ community. It only makes sense if we continue to fight for freedom for all of us – the ones who look like us and the ones who are different. It only makes sense if we make room for freedom for everyone. Celebration helps keep hope alive and flourishing, as we care for each other and reach out to folks who may need us. This month, in and around Houston, there are many opportunities to celebrate Pride. Resurrection is hosting an entire month of events to celebrate the community we have become and are becoming, as we build relationships and nurture social support networks. I hope you will consider attending one or more of the RMCC Pride events that are still to come this month: Rainbow Royalty – A Red Carpet Affair on June 15, the Parking Lot Festival on June 23, and participation in the Pride Parade itself on June 29. Who knows what part you can play in our ever-evolving story of hope? PS: Watch last week’s sermon HERE  Cathleen Sheil-Hopper Board of Driectors Cathleen@ResurrectionMCC.org |
