Katrina Madsen, NBCT
First Grade Co-Teacher
Last spring Renee Otero, our school librarian and director of diversity, asked Sarah Pizer-Bush and me to facilitate our school’s marching contingent in the annual S. F. Pride Parade. A few minutes after I had walked away from that meeting, I thought, Oh no! I don’t have time to do anything extra right now. What was I thinking?! As I expressed my lack of enthusiasm to some colleagues, I admitted that—besides not having time to spare—I had become a bit jaded about the Pride Parade. Like many of my friends in San Francisco, in our younger days, we would flock to the parade, the before-parties, the after-parties, the political gatherings. Later I became involved in different groups who marched: the Lesbian and Gay Chorus, the Metropolitan Community Church of San Francisco, Different Spokes of San Francisco, the LGBT bike club, and so on.
After my partner and I had a child, it became increasingly difficult for us to participate in such events. Then a few years ago when our son was 3, another lesbian couple who were taking their children to the playground at Civic Center on the day of the parade invited us along. As we stopped to look at some of the excitement going on in the parade, my son in my arms, an anti-gay protester called him “a devil child.” The hostility caught me off-guard, and I briskly walked away. I remember making a joke about it, but I was definitely shaken by what had happened. To think that my child could be subject to such bigotry was daunting, and I hadn’t returned to the parade since that incident. Like many others with young children, my partner and I have our gatherings separate from the noise and excitement of downtown. Or we leave town. Participating in the parade had lost its place in my list of priorities. Living in San Francisco, where LGBT people and their families are so integrated in the community, I don’t worry about fighting certain fights. I know where I am safe.
The truth is I am probably most safe in San Francisco because of people like Harvey Milk. In 1978 when an estimated 250,000 to 375,000 attended San Francisco’s Gay Freedom Day Parade, he gave a version of what became his most famous speech, the “Hope Speech.”
“On this anniversary of Stonewall, I ask my gay sisters and brothers to make the commitment to fight. For themselves, for their freedom, for their country … We will not win our rights by staying quietly in our closets… We are coming out to fight the lies, the myths, the distortions. We are coming out to tell the truths about gays, for I am tired of the conspiracy of silence, so I’m going to talk about it. And I want you to talk about it. You must come out. Come out to your parents, your relatives.”
Harvey Milk would have turned 80 years old this year and his straight ally, George Moscone, 81. I wonder whether Proposition 8 would have passed if Harvey were alive. In 1978, he spearheaded the defeat of Proposition 6, also known as “The Briggs Initiative,” energizing the gay civil rights movement. Prop 6, sponsored by John Briggs, a conservative state legislator from Orange County, would have banned gays and lesbians, and possibly anyone who supported gay rights, from working in California’s public schools. In other words, any teacher could have been fired for being gay or showing support for LGBT people. Such anti-gay ordinances were being passed in states around the country at that time. Harvey Milk would not allow teachers to be treated as second-class citizens, and thanks to his efforts, neither would California.
Harvey argued passionately with the flagrantly bigoted John Briggs, who said things like, “If you let one homosexual teacher stay, soon there’ll be 2, then 4, then 8, then 25–and before long the entire school will be taught by homosexuals.” It was a difficult and frightening time for gay people and their allies. Given this part of our country’s history, it’s not surprising that teachers have been fearful to be “out.” I don’t remember any of my own teachers talking about LGBT issues, much less “coming out” to students or parents. The hard-fought defeat of the Briggs Initiative occurred only 32 years ago. Homophobia still persists in our culture; California is one of just eleven states in the country with full protection for LGBT people in the workplace. In twenty states LGBT people have no employment protection rights, so one can still legally get fired for being lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender in this country.
With that context in mind, I’ll tell you about my experience this year marching in San Francisco’s 40th annual LGBT Pride Parade with contingent #72, the Independent Schools Contingent.
When I reassessed going to the parade and helping others participate, I was distressed at my low level of enthusiasm. I was working on papers for graduate school and participating in family events during graduation season, and I left many of the parade-related tasks to the last minute. I found myself questioning the whole thing and exuding negativity. I wondered if it was really necessary for SFDS to participate in the parade. I wondered if the school community was really interested in participating. I reasoned that education and curriculum around the subject of LGBT issues were much more important than marching in the parade or trying to support others to do so. As I said, I’d grown a bit jaded. But as my dear colleague bluntly said, “Not marching is just not an option.” Fortunately, Sarah Pizer-Bush is super-energizing, and her won’t-take-no attitude when it comes to working on issues of LGBT equity and visibility kept all of us on track. In fact, Sarah had a very special and inspiring pennant designed for our parade walk—SFDay School’s own LGBT Family Pride banner. Just looking at it makes you want to walk in a parade.
On top of Sarah’s work and inspiration, a few other pieces miraculously fell into place. Neither Sarah nor I could do the mandatory parade monitor-training, and the organizer for the independent school coalition had warned us that we would not be allowed to march if we didn’t have trained monitors. Two awesome parent volunteers came through, Nancy Hoopes and Karen Kohler, and then Randy Bowman, third grade teacher extraordinaire, stepped up to take the training. Renee Otero had given us recommendations on what supplies we’d need. So with such stalwart individuals on board, we gathered the bagels, the water, the sun block, a wagon to pull it all, and signs with our statements of positivity and support for LGBT families and educators. Then I did something really crazy and completely at odds with my self-diagnosis of “jaded”—I ordered huge columns of green and white helium balloons to be delivered to my house at 6:30 a.m. on the day of the parade.
That morning when the doorbell rang and the balloon delivery appeared, my son, my partner and I shot out of bed, running around as if we ourselves were injected with some super-human gay-pride energy, and, wonder of wonders, the sun was shining! (For the sun to shine during our gloomy San Francisco summer was beyond belief, especially that early in the morning!!) The next miracle was managing to load all the stuff into a cab and make it down to the parade line-up before the streets got busy and blocked off. The kind and patient cabbie tied the balloons to the roof of his cab, and we had an exciting ride downtown. This was probably the highlight of the day for our son, a cab ride filled with lots of waving and honking from other early birds. When we arrived at our not-yet crowded spot in the line-upand unloaded the stuff on the side-walk, a vision of comfort walked toward me. It was Mr. Bowman. He had already picked up the parade instructions and monitor buttons for our group and was ready to help. From 9 o’clock on people trickled in to join us, and the other independent schools slowly marshaled their forces around us. We were first to arrive, and then we were joined by the San Francisco School, and eventually the others—Burkes, Hamlin, Waldorf, Cathedral, Presidio Hill, Kittridge, MCDS, Brandeis, Nueva, Children’s Day and Marin Horizon schools with families, children, teachers, signs, streamers, and more. By 10:30 the streets were full. The Women’s Motorcycle Contingent, aka “Dykes on Bikes,” started their wild annual procession, and the volume around us rose. Our Day School group had grown in number. More and more families turned up to participate in our long wait and somewhat short yetglorious walk down Market Street. At least three kindergarteners joined us. One brought her bicycle and decorated it as she waited. Several other lower school children and a handful of upper school students were there with their parents. One faithful parent had made a banner supporting equal rights for LGBT marriage. It was heartening to see the families show up.Clearly, they hadn’t come to “get” anything from the day, to schmooze with any particular people, or to achieve some expected goal. They just came, and their presence felt extremely loving and supportive.
We didn’t get moving until about noon, and I was so grateful that Renee had given us so much good advice about supplies AND that Sarah had insisted we follow the advice. I had grudgingly dragged all the water, juice boxes, bagels and cream cheese along only to see these provisions sustain us all in our long wait.
Once we started moving, it was so much fun. The kids were handing out SFDay temporary tattoos and candy to the onlookers. The parents carried the banner and led us with the columns of green and white balloons on either side. Sarah had created some great refrains and chants for our group, such as, “2, 4, 6, 8, don’t hate, appreciate!”
What was amazing and transformative in the context of my own history as an LGBT teacher, was walking with a contingent of elementary schools. I wonder if Harvey ever imagined this day would come. Some of the older gay couples sitting in lounge chairs on the sidelines seemed moved by the spirit of our group. I felt a connection with them. What a thing for them to see after the years of bigotry and working toward understanding. To see parents, teachers and children marching together and celebrating each other for who they are! What an amazing thing to do, to experience in one way or another. I taught for 17 years in the public schools and had become a strong member of the education team of LGBT teachers, but I had never marched with a school community in solidarity as I did in June. I appreciate being part of a community who in its vision supports all of us in “bringing our whole selves to school,” but beyond this stated principle, I am deeply moved by this community who will walk through the middle of town to demonstrate and support such a vision.
SFDS Banner at the SF Pride Parade
