My Pride looks like brown skin glistening in the sun next to colorful hair.
My Pride looks like herb bundles burning and my friends greeting me with smiles, hugs, and endless twerks.
My Pride look like dancing to my favorite DJs like Whitney AbstraKt, AASHA D, Hourglass, Boogie Lov, Jsport and Jash Jay among countless others.
My Pride looks like the queer safe spaces we have fought so tirelessly to create.
I remember my first Atlanta Pride as if it was last week. It was 2013, and I was a student at Kennesaw State University. On that particular day, I decided to meet up with one of my friends from the basketball team. As we walked into Piedmont Park, I remember hearing people from across the pavilion yelling at me. To my surprise, I looked up and saw exactly what I needed. This amazing group of black women was getting my attention to let me know that they loved my hair. I knew right then that I was right where I belonged. I spent the rest of the day observing all of the different folx existing in their truths, and wondered what my own truth looked like.
I decided to learn how to authentically be myself in a world that doesn't encourage people who look like me to do so. During the next few years, I dedicated myself to looking for my community until I could eventually begin building spaces for the very community I found. Atlanta's queer black community became my refuge, and I quickly realized that I had to stand up and advocate for my family. I became a critical part of the growth of Atlanta's queer black community, especially for femmes.
We needed it, so I did it.
My Pride authentically and unapologetically exists in all spaces -- even ones where I am not welcome.
My Pride creates spaces not only for the folx that look like me but also for those who don't.
My Pride creates community as a rebellion.
My Pride is the intersection of radical self-love and social activism.
I am grateful to the work Pride opened me up to and for the community that I have found because of it. I am grateful to now be a part of an organization where I can create actionable change in inclusion. 50 years is a long time. We have achieved so much, and I am grateful for the many years ahead to continue growing with Pride.
Happy Pride, everybody! I love you all!