Feature: What does PRIDE mean to you?

The Power of a PRIDE Flag: Wrap Up and Stay Taut

It’s a few days into June a.k.a. pride month in Lubbock, Texas. Queers and Allies, Citizens of Lubbock, are wondering will this be the year that our city leadership recognizes the many economic, social, and cultural contributions we have made to the growth of our fair “hub city”? Will the mayor and city Council members sign and read the proclamation at Lubbock PRIDE on June 28?

As long as the Aryan Brotherhood, the Ku Klux Klan and other hateful white supremacist organizations have existed in this part of Texas, queer people have also lived, worked, and died trying to navigate a climate literally and figuratively that test you to your core and makes you ask why am I still here?

El Paso, Dallas, Austin, San Antonio, or just a small few of the cities and municipalities that have raised the pride flag to honor June as pride month this year. Here in Lubbock, we’re back asking to be recognized as H-U-M-A-N. We know we have a long way to go before we will ever see a flag on the pole at City Hall. But here we are! And in honor of this year’s Lubbock PRIDE Fest theme; “We’re Not Going Anywhere”.

Why a flag you may ask? To answer that question, let’s start with Texas and Texans.

Ask any native-born Texan living abroad, traveling out of state, living out of state, what their response would be if they caught a glimpse of a piece of fabric that was red, white, and blue with a lonely single star and how that makes them feel. It’s called pride.

Texas is known as a “sticky state”. Of the roughly 21 million people who are born Texans, a little over 17 million of them still to this day live in Texas — about 82%. Texas is a culture, a way of life that people worldwide have grown to love or hate.

I’ve felt that “Texan Pride” too. Being abroad and at a crosswalk in London I heard the word “ya’ll” and found myself drawn to that voice to say hello. Even though we were from opposite ends of the state back home, we felt like neighbors in London.

There is also an arrogance that comes with native Texans. It’s something I have witnessed and felt firsthand. I try and stay clear of that Texan-ness but lately I can’t unsee or unhear some of the hate masked as Texas Pride from the 89th State Legislature leadership.  More on that to come.

To continue to answer the question, what’s in a flag, we need the second part of this piece which has to do with P-R-I-D-E.

Looking through online National PRIDE merchandise’s this year, I came across trucker hats with the bald eagle in flight with the inclusion rainbow spread throughout the wings with the slogan “these colors don’t run”. I know what the meaning is for the slogan “these colors don’t bleed” literally, as I have my share of accidentally died white T-shirt’s in my laundry to represent the rainbow but what does it really mean for PRIDE this year to use “run” instead of “bleed”?

Taking the message quite literally Kelly Robinson, President of the Human Rights Campaign says; “This year we’re making one thing clear. These colors don’t run - and they never will. The pride flag is more than fabric; it carries the weight of generations who refuse to be erased in the fire of those still rising. With world PRIDE here in the nation’s capital our visibility has never mattered more - and neither has our strength. That’s why it matters that HRC is now 3.6 million strong it’s the largest base of support we’ve ever had and it’s growing in direct response to the attacks on our community. This is not just a number - it’s a movement, a mandate, and a promise: we’re not backing down. we’re building a future where every LGBTQ+ person can live bold safe and free.

To really feel this year’s theme both set forth by the National and local organizations, we need to remind ourselves of the history behind the evolution of the PRIDE flag.

The rainbow flag is a symbol of LGBTQ plus pride commonly used at events worldwide. The colors reflect the diversity of the community in addition to the spectrum of human sexuality and gender over the years. The flag has been updated and changed to be more inclusive of individuals in their allies. In addition to the rainbow, there are many other flags and symbols used to communicate specific identities within the community.

The early days of the pride flag was designed by artist Gilbert Baker at the request of San Francisco city supervisor and first openly, gay elected official in the history of California, Harvey Milk. The original colors included eight with bright pink and deep purple flanking the other colors in the prism. The original flag made its debut at the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day PRIDE celebration on June 25, 1978. After the assassination of Harvey milk in November 1978 the demand for the flag greatly increased. Baker dropped the hot pink strip from the flag as that particular color was not readily available. In 1979 he modified it again to become the six-stripe rainbow flag that is still used today in addition to many other renditions.

Fast forward to June 2017 under the leadership of Amber Hikes the Philadelphia office of LGBT affairs unveiled the “more colors more pride“ flag. This version of the pride flag includes a black stripe and a brown stripe to draw attention to underrepresented people of color within the community. The following year, the progress pride flag would appear by designer Daniel Quasar, and follow with the intersex inclusive pride progress flag designed by Valentino Vecchietti of Intersex Equality Rights in the UK. This design built off Quasar’s design by adding a yellow triangle and purple circle as a tribute to the 2013 intersex flag designed by Morgan Carpenter, Australian bioethicist, and researcher.

As is with most inclusive movements, the naysayers will always make accusations of being intolerant to straight people by displaying the pride flag. I have news for them, there is a flag for those who do not identify in the LGBTQ plus community. It’s called the Ally Flag. You can also be part of the rainbow, but you must commit with love.

As history tends to repeat itself, we are not blind to the fact that we are facing the same old hateful tropes and messages. The “anti’s” have nothing new to use or say against us. They are floundering, grasping at anything and anyone that will hate alongside them. But we do have small celebrations from this hatefulness, shown by many of our state GOP legislators this past session. The Texas House LGBTQ+ Caucus, founded in 2019, held strong against hateful bills, messages, and vitriol. They represented LGBTQ+ Texans by speaking out, speaking truth to power, struck down misinformation, and educating through promoting and producing logical bills. We say thank you to all the Representatives and a special shout out to the new executive board; Jessica Gonzalez (chair), Venton Jones (vice-chair), and Josey Garcia (secretary).

In this time, in this month, and in this year, just as our colors will not run, we will not run from hateful rhetoric we have been subjected to, we will not run from the old tropes being used as new, but instead we will run towards and power through to safely live our authentic lives, as our authentic selves, as we were meant to do. We are not going anywhere!

-Anonymous, June 2025

Finding Pride

What Pride means to me is a question that I’ve asked myself many times over the years; I’ve always struggled to answer it. As I’ve learned about the history of Pride and the Stonewall Riots, I’ve noticed that Pride has become synonymous with courage, resilience, and strength. But to find one’s own courage, resilience, and strength is another story completely.

I’ve lived in Lubbock my entire life, believe me when I say that I know what it feels like to be the queer kid from West Texas. I had a number of classmates at the end of junior high write, “Have fun at the gay school,” in my yearbook when I chose to attend one high school over another. Was there malicious intent behind those words? There might not have been. I can chalk it up to 13 year olds being young and dumb, but the chosen vocabulary and language doesn’t exactly foster an environment of acceptance and inclusivity. So I kept quiet and I said nothing.

When I got to high school I found myself with my first group of LGBT friends, and it became clear that by identifying as bisexual, I was the confused and scared “baby” underclassman of the group (so maybe just LG friends?). Again, I kept quiet and I said nothing. I was shy and self-conscious, and why was I going to argue with these kids that were older than me? So I started calling myself gay. It was easier. I had the labels, “lesbian,” “butch,” “stud,” all thrust upon me, but none of these labels I ever claimed or chose myself.

When I started college, I joined the Gay Straight Alliance (now Gender and Sexuality Association). I met my first trans friends, all ftm, and even though all their stories were different, a string of something similar ran through all of them and resonated within me. But was I actually trans? I found myself standing in a room full of my LGBT+ peers after a weekly GSA meeting, feeling completely alien. I didn’t know why I felt so different. I didn’t have a word for it. I began using the word, “queer” as a self-descriptor. It felt all-encompassing; an umbrella term for my sexual orientation and my gender identity. A term that held such a negative connotation for many LGBT+ people for so long, had become a word that felt the most cohesive to use to describe myself.

I don’t remember when or where I first heard the word, “non-binary.” A GSA meeting? Tumblr maybe? Merriam-Webster’s definition is, “relating to or being a person who identifies with or expresses a gender identity that is neither entirely male nor entirely female. Not feeling quite here nor there. Never girly enough, but y’all, I’ve also seen some boys do some disgusting stuff. Ew, no thank you. It’s the one label that feels the most comfortable and makes the most sense for me, so at 24, I donned it like my favorite hoodie during sweater weather.

Throughout my own personal journey over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to hear so many stories from others during my involvement with LubbockPRIDE. Seeing others get to be themselves and hearing stories every year during the annual Pride festival from people that just came out or are attending their first pride, will always be some of my favorite memories. As someone whose chosen profession recognizes the importance of stories, it wasn’t until I had a young person come up to me at a pride celebration during Summer ‘22, that I became consciously aware that I was, at that moment, someone’s real-life representation. All it took was something as seemingly small as wearing my nonbinary pride pin, and this college freshman told me they felt comfortable coming over and talking to me. Let me say it loud, REPRESENTATION MATTERS.

It’s been 20 years since I’ve been a self-conscious, awkward teenager, and in that time I have seen our community in Lubbock grow exponentially. I’ve seen steps made in the direction of equality at the national level, and have been infuriated at the leaps made backward. Now at the age of 35, after a lifetime of feeling other, I exist as the most confident, comfortable, and truest version of myself. I’ve never been someone that has felt like they were living their life LOUDLY OUT, however, now when I think about what Pride and Pride Month means to me, it is continuing to exist when our existence is trying to be eradicated and celebrating our stories when our voices are trying to be silenced. Existence is resistance.

Happy Pride, Lubbock

-Yad, (They/Them)

Wearing PRIDE

Last year I purchased a simple black rubber bracelet with the letter’s spelling PRIDE as red, orange, yellow, green, and blue. Once I put it on that day at the PRIDE Festival in the Depot District Street celebration, I have been wearing it ever since.  This bracelet was a small donation to the organization, Lubbock PRIDE, that hosted the event but has brought me so many more valuable connections and experiences than I ever imagined.  Wearing “PRIDE” all year round has many benefits. In one instance I received a reminder ticket to the Lesbian PROM this year while eating pancakes at Jimmy's Egg.  Woo hoo!

So, you might ask then why is this piece written by “anonymous” and not your real name?  If you have worn your PRIDE all year, why not show it now by giving your name?  The answer is very simple, being “online” is much more of a threat than meeting someone face-to-face.  Lubbock prides itself on being the friendliest city.  That, at times, is true.  But as soon as I see a post on our local television social media question related to the next Mayoral Candidate debate, asking the public what questions should be asked, I am met with the old trope of “Why do you need PRIDE?” “There are more important issues!” And the list goes on!

To understand this, you must remember that PRIDE began as a riot, circa 1969, although we cannot forget the Compton’s Cafeteria Riot in 1966 in San Francisco, which had a significant impact on the “gay” movement.  A riot that was long overdue.  It wouldn’t be until 1970 on the year anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, in New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago that a march (protest parade) was held to demonstrate equal rights. Visibility matters.  Visibility mattered so much that even in 1981, Suzanne Manford Swan marched in support of her gay son. Being OUT and PROUD has become the standard practice of celebrating PRIDE. 

We must not forget that the spark that is remembered most of a movement (Stonewall) began with a box of tender in the form of prior organizing of splintered groups.  The events of Stonewall and Pride traditions that followed were adapted from the “Reminder Day Pickets” held annually (1965-1969) on July 4 at Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Organizers of these events were organized by the Eastern Regional Conference of Homophile Organizations (E.R.C.H.O), formed in 1962. 

I would say that I wear my PRIDE purposefully, as a type of protest. Taking into account all that came before me and those yet to find their way.  “I want my gay rights now!” Oh, I mean, Happy PRIDE ya’ll.

-Anonymous