Thank You, Mr. Gonzalez

This piece continues a conversation I began in May 2021: Creating a Community That Includes All LGBTQ+ Folks

On May 30th, “Pride Eve” I participated in a group hike and meditation with a lovely group of queers in the beauty of the Presidio.

What I believed at the time to be a mere social gathering turned into one of the most pivotal ceremonies I’ve ever participated in- one that I credit with arming me with the strength necessary to face the challenges waiting for me in June. 

I won’t go into all the details- but at one point, we approached a redwood grove and split into groups.

One of the questions we were tasked with investigating was what kind of ancestor do you want to be?- a question I don’t believe we ask ourselves enough these days; certainly not enough in queer spaces.

The truth is that the HIV/AIDS epidemic, systemic racism, and over-policing mean thousands (if not millions) of queer Americans are robbed of the opportunity to ever become elders-making it even more important that we (ESPECIALLY those of us with privilege) NOW take responsibility for the legacy we will leave one day.

“Stonewall was about kicking the cops out of our lives. Biden can’t come here and pretend to support us while he drops bombs on people in Gaza. The girls and guys will keep on fighting, chanting, marching til every damn person is free, including Palestinians.”

-Miss Major

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Pride is a special time of year- not because of what the government says and not because of (or lack of) a rainbow flag.

Pride is special because it is a time to celebrate YOU, however you feel or want to do that. No one has the right to tell you any differently. That means respecting the decisions of those who don’t want to celebrate. I haven’t been interested in “corporate pride” for several years now, and the nonstop buzzing of SFPD helicopters all weekend long didn’t change my feelings this year (by the way, San Francisco Pride’s 2024 Grand Marshal absolutely DOES NOT speak for the queer community).

Most importantly Pride is a time to remember the sacrifices necessary to bring us the rights we have as queer folks in the United States- and remaining vigilant to the longterm goal of collective liberation.

I was heartbroken that the Biden Administration chose Pride Month to make a statement denouncing gender-affirming surgery, but that is the reality of being queer in the United States: you know that at least one attack is coming to harm your community during a month when you’re expected to regurgitate rainbows and piss glitter.

If you think this pain doesn’t extend outside of the queer community, consider the timing of the fall of Roe v. Wade and the reversal of affirmative action.

For this and many other reasons, I find it so essential to teach and preserve the true history of Pride: that it was a riot led by transgender women of color to protest police brutality. It was not a kumbayah, it was not a police kiki and it sure as hell wasn’t a shareholder meeting.

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Here in San Francisco we have made some changes to promote inclusivity in queer spaces. I have recognized that more establishments have chosen to be more diverse in their advertising and at least a couple femme/non-binary safe spaces have opened.

Progress takes time (and it’s never enough) and I’m an impatient person, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. In May 2023 I began offering a walking tour in the Castro. Designing the route was a bit of a transformative and emotional experience- you see growing up, I was not allowed to step foot in the Castro.

Actually, I didn’t come to terms with my own queer identity until my early 20’s. The dozens of interviews, articles, documentaries and businesses I held/examined/participated in left me, for the first time in my life, with just a taste of everything the American queer community has had to overcome over the years.

I know that sounds crazy with a family history of six generations living in what many consider the gayest City on Earth but I also believe that my background uniquely positions me to share this important history with an audience that has included dozens of people from every continent except Antarctica.

I can finally say I feel a connection to the queer neighborhood and history of San Francisco- my history.

In that spirit, I wish to acknowledge someone for the very first time. I have often said that I owe my entire professional existence to the hard work of my teachers- particularly those at George Washington High School.

I am ashamed to admit that years of internalized homophobia and self hatred meant this moment did not come much sooner, so I truly hope this finds its way to Mr. Ernesto Gonzalez- one of the most impactful teachers I have had in my entire life. 

I’ll never forget the classroom discussions about To Kill A Mockingbird, Night, and The Autobiography of Malcolm X- books that I don’t recall being mentioned ever again in the entirety of my academic career. 
And because of Mr. Gonzalez I learned the stories of Emmett Till and Harvey Milk.

My 10th grade English class was the ONLY time I studied either of these American horror stories.

I would not be the person I am today- unashamedly living my unrepentant truth- if I had not had Mr. Gonzalez as a teacher.

Happy Pride.

Learn more about the Castro Ultimate LGBTQ+ Experience and other walking tours I offer here