I hoped that this year’s Pride would feel triumphant and it did. From the moment I arrived at Dolores Park before Trans March and found myself face-to-face with a friend I hadn’t spoken to in years, I knew this was going to be a lucky Pride. We marched with two other trans people, one queer cis ally, and two of our parents, numbers which all around seem to bode well for the future of peaceful coexistence.
While at Dolores Park I also got wind of the startling but very welcome news that the trans contingent was to lead off the San Francisco Pride Parade in 2010, following directly after the Dykes On Bikes and other cyclists. This was unprecedented and a great example of exactly the kind of visibility we need. This year’s trans contingent participants all carried umbrellas to make the statement that “trans” is a broad category, an “umbrella” term for all gender variant people. I didn’t get to see this year’s trans contingent myself, since I was in the parade with the leather contingent. But this new, prominent placement in the line-up was very exciting and gave me a lot of hope.
Trans March wended its way down 18th Street until hitting Market, whence it purportedly continued all the way down to Justin Herman Plaza. It was a much better route than last year’s, if a bit long. I think what Trans March has to do now is pick a good route and stick with it so that, year after year, people will know exactly where to go. Only then will we get crowds of people lining the streets and hanging out of apartment windows the way that they do for Dyke March.
It was a good turn-out, also better than last year. The crowd was pretty diverse across the trans spectrum, and had a pronounced flair for fabulousness. Some signs that stood out this year: “I’m here, I’m genderqueer, get used to it,” “Trans Fag” written in pink glitter, and one with check boxes for “Male,” “Female,” and “Me.” As we marched, we chanted, “Hey Pelosi, can’t you see? We want ENDA with a T!” and “Hey hey, ho ho, transphobia’s got to go!” There was even a rousing rendition of “Bad Hotel,” to the tune of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance,” in honor of the current hotel boycott. Altogether it was a high energy, upbeat group that marched through San Francisco on that cool, clear evening.
I confess that my posse did not make it all the way down to Justin Herman Plaza. Instead, tired, thirsty, and needing a restroom, we split off from the crowd at 8th Street and made our way down to Wicked Grounds, San Francisco’s fabulous kinky café, for drinks and conversation. Catching up with friends was exciting. Nina, who I have written about before, came out to me as genderqueer and expressed a desire to be referred to by the gender neutral pronouns ze and hir. One of my other companions, who has long been out as trans, told me of her plans to take further steps towards medical transition. The march seemed to have provided some reassurance and support for these other young trans people, which seems to me like a big part of what it’s supposed to do.
Overall, I was more than satisfied with my 2010 Trans March experience just the same. I got what I came for: solidarity, visibility, and a sense of hope. I wish the event a happy sixth birthday, and look forward to seeing it grow. Perhaps some year soon, my dream of marching down streets lined with enthusiastic spectators will be fulfilled. Maybe I’ll see you next year, if not in our ranks, then cheering us on from the sidelines. Until then, I’m happy to have marched at all.
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