Pride Cometh Before the Fall…June.

As Milwaukee opens up Pride month this weekend…President Trump neglects to proclaim June Pride Month as did President George W. Bush. Except that in the Bush era, we still fought for many outcomes we have now reached and moved beyond. Such struggles included marriage equality and the repeal of DADT. We still have many more struggles to accomplish. President Trump’s inability to proclaim June as Pride Month signals the reactionary forces at work in the face of witnessing a revelation…a revolution.

​Dear child, I will make you a recipe for disaster and by the time you make it for your children, you will call it a revolution.

This recipe has been handed down through generations, adding little by little their casualties, their martydoms, and their small victories. There is no preparation needed, just small cayalysts and visionaries wiling to take action. In the end, no reparations to the time bombs ticking away in our chests. Time bombs that we took for hearts that yearned to feel unconditional love.
Our ticking time bomb hearts used to be misdiagnosed in how our love led to a death sentence. But while the band played on and die-ins littered the streets and presidents stood silent; friends, family, and strangers created agape; creating a community with a new ethos and a different canon.

People will try and tell you that this beautiful disaster is a dead recipe, a dead language. A fight for liberation is never dead. Others will try to convince you of lost causes in a world where inconvenience is a sin. People will tell you that civil convenience trumps civil disobedience and there is no greater sin than disturbing the peace and distracting from the dancing shadows on the cave wall.
When this recipe is done we decorate it with brilliant ribbonous colors. Red for life, orange for healing, yellow for sun, green for nature, turquoise for art, indigo for harmony, violet for spirit, and pink for sexual liberation. We will always be fighting for sexual liberation.
And look down here at the end of the recipe; there is no real finality, its your job to carry on with what may come as the next battle to be waged, the next wage to be equitied, the next color or gender or mutation or definition to be wrapped up in the fold of society’s acceptations.
Right now i can say that this is a beautiful disaster and we can only see it now pixel by pixel in the way time only tells whether a disaster arcs towards revolution. What will you make of this beautiful disaster turned revolution? Who will benefit from the actions you take on, the arms you take up in the social and political battlefields? How will society react to the progressive actions you create? And will you waste your breath responding to people who salute a pluralistic culture but don’t understand how it works in practice to the betterment of all?

Happy Pride!