Untitled

By Cecilia Watt

Section 28, a piece of legislation passed in 1988, had a devasting impact on Britain’s LGBTQ+ community. By prohibiting the 'promotion of homosexuality' by local authorities, it emboldened bullies, upheld fear, and exacerbated the isolation and maltreatment of a community that was already struggling amid the AIDS crisis. In the face of this, the community mobilized - as it always does, and a moment from one such protest is depicted in this week's artwork.

This photograph, like the idea of Pride, is more than one thing. It’s joy and grief, proof that queer people can have lives of tenderness in the midst of chaos. The photo itself is a testament to Pam Isherwood’s talent; there is a quality needed to capture such an instance of quiet strength.

When I look at the two young men in the photo, I see youth, anger and love, and I know that it is reflected in me. I know that a kiss can be celebration, or resistance, or just ours. We belong to each other, to ourselves, and to the terrifyingly beautiful belief that love and authenticity and moments of freedom (big or small) are worth it.

Cultural institutions so often represent the stories that the state deems worthy of status - of being remembered. Marginalised groups, such as the LGBT+ community, have historically been left out, their history and culture excluded, and even erased. Twenty-five years on from Section 28 being repealed in Scotland, we now proudly display this photograph, this proof of life, in the National Galleries of Scotland.

There is comfort in that marker of progress, but it would be a disservice to ourselves, and to the young men in the photo, to pretend that we have no need to march. I give them my thanks for their footsteps; I walk in them with gratitude and determination.

Although wishing a happy Pride may feel naive in the current climate, I wish you one nonetheless. May you have a happy Pride. May you have an angry one. A tender Pride. A Pride of protest. A Pride of joy. A Pride of reflection. A Pride of mobilizing. A Pride of resting. A Pride of community. Whatever your Pride looks like this year, I wish you one thing above all: that you have it.