PurplePints of Geekery

her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.

remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.

Pride is a reaction from a community told that they were unworthy of love.

Pride is a public spectacle to the voices who said they should stay hidden.

Pride is a ringing response to all who said they should remain silent.

Pride is the answer, in total, to all of those who shouted that they should be embarrassed and that they should be ashamed.

It started as a fierce no and as a mourning dirge.

Pride today learned everything from how a larger society treated those they felt were Other: it screams, it slurs, it hates, it rejects, it extinguishes light, it ignores, it kicks and hits and with a savage, angry, fearful mien it does everything it can to hurt and excise and rip away at what is seen as Different.

Pride learned what it wanted to be by facing down that beast for decades. We learned what we wanted to be: the exact opposite of that.

From that directed hate, an unfathomable empathy was born. When faced with so much anger and hate and rejection, we decided to fight back by loving harder than ever before. We took in strangers, we bandaged each other’s wounds, we held the hands of the dying and we were no longer orphans : all of the rainbow became my brothers and sisters, my siblings and parents, my cousins and my children.

We found wellsprings of compassion inside of ourselves and our global community thrives today because we all poured that bounty out to share with each other and the world entire.

We were so angry at so many things, and rightfully so. We were so tired and so thirsty for acceptance and love, it would have been so easy to hate in return. Somewhere along the way, we decided to dig wells rather than start fires; to build bricks instead of sling the mud. We made a village for ourselves.

You’d think with all of what we went through, over so many generations and so many broken bones and funerals that we would have shuttered ourselves away, but we didn’t. We built big houses and wide roads and left our wells open. We protected each other by our presences and our numbers, not with walls or weapons. When people came to talk, we talked. If they came to shout, we sang over them. If people came to harm, we stood up for each other and refused to be cowed. When others came and needed shelter, we gave it. When they thirsted, we offered our wells. When they hungered, we welcomed them to our tables.

We looked at the world and all of the hate and said, “No.”

They wanted us in the shadows, so we flew rainbows.

They wanted us on our knees, so we stood up.

They wanted us quiet, so we shouted.

They wanted us dead, so we lived.

They wanted us to be hateful, so we loved.

We loved. We loved and loved and still love today, because we are not ashamed and that, my dears, is why it’s called Pride. It is a space and a celebration that has been brought into the world by love, not taking anything from others but by giving and compassion and respect for life, a revolution driven by heartbeats and tears and broken bones and bruised souls that joined arms to hold each other up and kept going. We’re not done, we’re still fighting, we’re still hopeful and we’ve kept love at the forefront all this time.

Celebrate love. Have Pride.

Environmental advocacy and the LGBTQ+ rights movement share a common purpose: protecting vulnerable communities, caring for the spaces we all call home, and creating a world where we all can flourish. Our world is brightest when people can live authentically, love freely, and be embraced for who they are. From rainbow reefs to shimmering tides, diversity makes our blue planet stronger, healthier, and more inspiring.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!

The closer I am to finishing and not wanting to undo 2h worth of work to change that one single into a double, the more likely I am to go "well. That's the demons stitch then isn't it", and leave it be.

I ask my students every week to write 10 observations of the actual world. It’s very hard for them.

Ms. Tippett:

Really?

Ms. Howe:

They really find it hard.

Ms. Tippett:

What do you mean? What is the assignment? 10 observations of their actual world?

Ms. Howe:

Just tell me what you saw this morning like in two lines. I saw a water glass on a brown tablecloth, and the light came through it in three places. No metaphor. And to resist metaphor is very difficult because you have to actually endure the thing itself, which hurts us for some reason.

Ms. Tippett:

It does.

Ms. Howe:

It hurts us.

Ms. Tippett:

You naming something.

Ms. Howe:

We want to say, “It was like this; it was like that.” We want to look away. And to be with a glass of water or to be with anything — and then they say, “Well, there’s nothing important enough.” And that’s whole thing. It’s the point.

Ms. Howe:

It’s the this, right?

Ms. Howe:

Right, the this, whatever. And then they say, “Oh, I saw a lot of people who really want” — and, “No, no, no. No abstractions, no interpretations.” But then this amazing thing happens, Krista. The fourth week or so, they come in and clinkety, clank, clank, clank, onto the table pours all this stuff. And it so thrilling. I mean, it is thrilling. Everybody can feel it. Everyone is just like, “Wow.” The slice of apple, and then that gleam of the knife, and the sound of the trashcan closing, and the maple tree outside, and the blue jay. I mean, it almost comes clanking into the room. And it’s just amazing.

Ms. Tippett:

In some basic level, what they’ve done is just engage with their senses.

Ms. Howe:

Yeah, and have been present out of their minds and just noticing what’s around them, which is — we don’t do. And again, not to compare it to anything. They’re not allowed. And that’s very hard for them. And then on the fifth or sixth week, I say, “OK, use metaphors.” And they don’t want to. They don’t know how. They’re like, “Why would I? Why would I compare that to anything when it’s itself?” Exactly. Good question.

So then you think, why the necessity of a metaphor? Why do you have to use a metaphor now? Not just to do it to avoid it, but to do it to make it more there. And it’s very interesting.