Feeling At Home

It’s the middle of spring, summer is approaching, which means it’s this time of the year again: pride season. Throughout the summer and all over the world gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people will flock to the streets of bigger and even smaller cities to be visible, to show that they’re proud of who they are, and to send the message that “We’re here, we’re queer, deal with it!”

To me, attending the annual gay pride parade in my hometown has an additional meaning. It also means that at least once a year, surrounded by tens of thousands of gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgendered people, I don’t feel like part of a minority group. At least once a year, I can be part of a large community, a community that’s alive and powerful.

I tend to forget how lucky I am to now live in a city where there’s a lively and diverse gay and lesbian culture. I don’t have to drive for a few hours to get to the only lesbian bar in the area. I don’t have to depend solely on the internet to get in touch with other lesbians. I can be part of the LGBT community if I want to, but I can also choose not to get involved with other gays and lesbians. A lot of people don’t even have that choice.

I was reminded of that a few weeks ago, when I told a friend about a gay and lesbian street fair that I intended to go to the following weekend. She said that she wished that there was more of a LGBT culture where she lived, which is a mid-sized town in the upper Midwest of the United States of America. And I can totally relate to her.

At the time of my coming-out, I was studying law in a mid-sized college town in Northern Germany. There was one gay bar in town, but it was mostly frequented by men, and there was another bar that had “women’s nights” once a week. From time to time, there were so-called “women’s parties”, but the women I met at those parties didn’t really make me feel at home. A lot of them looked and acted very aggressively, and some were still longing for the good old days of the feminist movement. I remember telling a friend back then that I was getting desperate – if all lesbians were like that, how would I ever get to know one I could fall in love with?

A little later, I watched the broadcast of the biggest gay pride parade in Germany, the Christopher Street Day Parade in Cologne, on TV. I saw a diverse crowd, hundreds of thousands of people on the floats and along the streets, looking like they felt at ease with themselves, being out and proud. I desperately wanted to be there.

That’s why, when I attended my first pride parade about a year later, it meant the world to me. And when I attended the first LGBT party in the much bigger city I moved to after graduation, I was relieved by the diversity of the people there. Especially the women. I finally felt at home.

I know that there are a lot of people out there who’s only chance to feel like part of the broad and diverse LGBT community is by attending the gay pride parade in the city that is nearest to them once a year. To me, that’s one of the reasons why we still need to have these parades. It’s not just for the political message. It’s also for all the individuals who, at least once a year, want to feel at home.

With that in mind, I hope that all of you have the chance to be out, proud and visible this pride season. And of course, don’t forget to have fun.

Pictures: www.welt.de

Posted on eurOut on May 10th, 2009