marching in the pride parade.

*Note: none of these photos are mine.  I got them from friends, or pulled them from the event page on facebook. Thanks to all for posting your photos!

This past Sunday, I marched in the Salt Lake City Pride Parade. I had to skip church to go. But it was so worth it.

The experience was very emotional. I am still coming down off the high of having been there, and I am having a hard time finding words to express what it meant to me, but I will do my best.  It was one of those experiences I will remember for a lifetime, I am sure.

My initial decision to attend the parade was a fairly easy one. I have friends who are gay and Mormon. I have heard their stories, and felt their heartbreak at being torn between these two worlds that mean so much to them.  It is heart-wrenching.  Plus, everyone deserves to be loved, respected, cared about, treated fairly. It seems like a no-brainer to me.  I was a little nervous at how we would be received, and so I did think it over for a few days, but when my roommate texted me expressing interest in going, the answer was unequivocally yes.

The night before the parade I began to feel a little more nervous.  Would we be accepted? Would marching even be safe? Would they hate us for taking over their parade? I also felt excited, though.  Excited to step out of my comfort zone a bit, show a little courage, and just be there to show my love and support.  And I was excited to take part with all the other beautiful people and families who were willing to do the same.  I calmed myself down, picked out my best, most Mormon-looking Sunday outfit, and went to bed, anxiously anticipating the parade.

The next morning, we woke up early and carpooled with a couple other friends to downtown Salt Lake City. As we parked and got out of the car, we felt another little explosion of nerves. The leaders of Mormons Building Bridges (the group with which we were marching) had asked us to dress in our most Mormon-looking attire. I was wearing a skirt and cardigan, and carrying my scriptures. My roommate had on a cute light pink dress, knee length with sleeves. Our other friend, a strapless dress with a white t-shirt underneath for modesty (classic, right?).  We knew we would stand out amidst the bright rainbow colors and wild clothing of the parade, and the same fears drifted in... "what if they are angry with us?".  After a moment, we gathered our courage and ventured out of the parking lot, into the crowds.  To our surprise, as we neared the parade line-up, we received a couple encouraging remarks, and sincere "thank yous" from people marching with other groups in the parade.  This buoyed our confidence and settled our nerves a bit, and we continued on excitedly to meet up with the rest of our group.

As we approached, I caught a glimpse of how large the group was. I haven't heard a definitive number on how many were with us, but I've heard estimates from 300 to 475. From what I could tell, we were the largest group in the entire parade (we stayed after we finished marching to watch the rest of the parade).  Everyone was in their suits and ties, little girls had their hair curled, mothers were pushing strollers, surrounded by other children.  Fathers had children perched atop their shoulders, holding signs.  Elderly people were there in wheelchairs or with walkers. It was quite a sight. My heart leapt in pride. We quickly took our places at the back of the lineup.

In the twenty to thirty minutes before we started marching, we saw more and more people come up to thank us for what we were doing.  People from other groups marching in the parade came over and hugged us, thanked us, took pictures with us and our signs.  The excitement and nerves were palpable among us, and it was very hot. We had sweat dripping down our backs before we even started walking, but nothing could have moved us from that line-up. We felt confident, ready.

As soon as we got moving, I noticed people on both sides of us brought to their feet, clapping, cheering. Looks of peace, huge relief, surprise, and excitement on their faces. Any leftover nervousness I felt was gone. Then, as we rounded the first corner, we saw all the parade attendees lined up down the road for blocks, and up went a huge roar (a happy, excited, surprised roar). At that moment I began to feel the emotion welling up within me, and tears sprang to my own eyes as I saw their tears. These people. So many of whom had grown up Mormon and then had to leave their faith behind, with such great pain and struggle. Many of those wounds were still fresh for many, and still painful for most all, I'm sure. I couldn't believe how they were forgiving us.  How readily they loved us.  The pure joy that filled me was tremendous.

As we kept going, and people kept cheering so loudly, and thanking us, I kept thinking "who am I that I deserve the cheers of these people?" All I had done was show up. Humans should love one another, period. That should be an ordinary thing.  Nevertheless we continued onward, handed out lollipops to the children, offered hugs, and shared tears with those who were weeping on the sidelines. I felt I was witnessing the beginning of healing take place. It was a beautiful, beautiful sight.

In the end, I believe that we still have a long way to go. Stepping up to the plate and showing a little Christlike love at the expense of a few nerves and one Sunday at church is a great start.  I only hope that we can continue making progress from here.





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Other coverage you might enjoy:

A summary of several participants thoughts on marching.

An interview with the organizer of Mormons Building Bridges.

News coverage from the actual event, and another article in which I am quoted (and which I feel does a better job of painting a picture of what it felt like to be there).

More video footage taken by Katrina, one of our marchers.

Video by CNN.

Waiting for the parade to start, holding the lollipops we were to hand out, with "Love one another" stickers on them

 You can actually see me in this one! (right third of the photo, brown top, green shoulder bag) I also love the man with the American flag tie, doing the "I love you" sign with his hand

The view from the front of our group (we were right behind the grand marshall of the parade, in the very front)