Making Pride

“Water won’t run straight & neither will we”

The idea for Vermont’s first Pride sprang from a few community members, led by a small gathering of lesbians in Burlington in 1983, who questioned why they always had to travel out of state to attend Pride events. Accustomed to creating their own cultural and social spaces for themselves, without support or approval from anyone, they decided to make Pride in Burlington.

Well, you know, this is my favorite part of the story, really, because I came to Burlington in 1975 and came out kind of shortly thereafter. And so let's see, that was eight years before the march and was involved with the women's community and doing rape crisis work and different things, but also involved in the what we would have called the lesbian/feminist movement thing, really burgeoning movement. And we always went out of Vermont to do what whatever we had to do. We would make these crazy mad dashes to Boston, to New Words, [a] women's bookstore there, that we would just be like, oh, my God, we couldn't wait till we got there to read what people were talking about. It's like this explosion of—of both the feminist stuff and the lesbian stuff. It was just an unbelievable time. And similarly, we would go on Pride Day, which was, you know, since 1969. We would go—I'd gone to Boston, I went to New York, I went to Montreal, to all the cities to march and feel be part of that that. So we knew about Pride marches and, but honestly, I can't remember what was happening in that moment in 1983. I know we were in, I think we were in Laurie Larson's apartment. Me, Lucy and Laurie and the three of us, you know, saying what are you going to do for Pride Day this year or whatever we said, you know, “why don't we have a pride day here?” Was that, you know, spontaneous moment of combustion really of a - why not? And that wasn't that, I think was probably part of, like a collective consciousness. I think it was also probably happening in towns, you know, all over the place.

You know, my strongest visual comes with Commonwomon newspaper, Leah Wittenburg, Peggy Luhrs, and then it just sort of spreads. I think Lucy Gluck was a piece of that spreading. But what happened around Commonwomon often times we'd be laying out an issue or talking about something we wanted to cover and someone would say, “we should...” And all kinds of actions happened in Burlington then, some of which I could speak about and some of which are sort of an interesting decision to keep hidden— “whoever did that?”

And that's my memory of how Gay Pride started, because as a group, a lot of activists, lesbians from the Burlington area, had traveled to New York City for the gay pride parade there. And we got so excited about that and thought, oh, this is unbelievable. Those of us who traveled to California to visit friends or just because there was a women's bookstore there, imagine go to California for that? Got to march in their Gay Pride and we—and probably it was Leah who said, “well, we could just do our own.”

The small organizing group, including Leah Wittenberg, Lucy Gluck, Peggy Luhrs, Howard Russell, Jim Morgan, and Michiyo Fukaya, asked the Burlington Board of Aldermen (City Council) to declare June 25, 1983 Lesbian and Gay Pride Day. They sent letters to businesses and individuals asking for their support. Responses were mixed, but ultimately several businesses supported Pride publicly and the City Council made the proclamation.

It was definitely a statement for me to march in the first Pride march in Vermont because, I, I remember being frightened that my picture would be on the front page of the Free Press. And I didn't know what the fallout might be for something like that. I don't think I was entirely out at work at that point, and I was afraid my boss might see it if my picture were on the Free Press. That never happened.

Those who marched publicly declared they were lesbian or gay, outing themselves to family and friends. Many did stay on the sidelines, and participants describe seeing friends and allies along the route. In following years, some of those who did not join the march found the courage to take part.

I really appreciated all of the familiar gay and lesbian faces on the sidelines. And I just, I remember thinking it would have been hard for me to be on the sidelines. I think if I wasn't in the march itself, I might not have chosen to be there just because I would have hated to have people in the march, friends of mine see me standing on the sidelines. And I just, I just wanted those people to know that what they were doing was important and just being there and witnessing and even if they weren't in a place where they felt they could because of their work or their family or the job, whatever, couldn't actually be out there in the march. I just really appreciated them being there.

Participants also exposed themselves to potential physical harm. Threats were made against the marchers – including rocks or worse thrown from rooftops. Burlington police were posted to observe, but their presence also carried concern.

In response, the community dispatched “peacekeepers” along the route. They wore white and were trained to deal with confrontations and altercations.

Anti-gay protestors from some local churches were present but were small in number compared to the larger rally crowd and allies.

Many people were invigorated and happy after the rally and march. Commonwomon held a fundraiser at McHat’s (above Nectar’s in Burlington) featuring performers from the local music scene. Many organizers and participants had no doubt that there would be another Pride Day the following year.

There were consequences to being out and seen at the march. For example, one participant photographed at the march had their picture published in the Burlington Free Press, and copies were distributed at his workplace. Incidents like this demonstrated the need for protections so LGBTQ people could live their lives openly.

The 1983 Pride showed what the public pronouncement of identity and community could do for increasing visibility and acceptance. Within a year the organization Vermonters for Lesbian and Gay Rights was formed, and by 1986 Out in the Mountains was a newspaper serving the LGBT community. The rally and march were manifestations of the power of community.

And so it—it does fall to people saying it matters. And I think it's just a lesson in—in love, really, for everybody. It matters to say to people who you are matters. What you do matters. Everything you do matters and what you did, whether in response to something or as part of your coming up. It matters. So to be thanking the people who pulled off Commonwomon newspaper, which that first Pride would never have happened without that newspaper. And that group of people who spent all of their waking hours making that happen every month. And then that parade that was so much more than a parade. That was a statement about Pride. But about humanity, about love. About the need for legislation that's equitable. So, I just want to be sure to thank you two current historians, archivists, documentarians who really want to know the real story, because it's very easy to get the story that is perhaps most publicized, but I'm sure, you know, that's the story that's told by the top layer. That's a story that's told by the people who had access to publicizing. Perhaps paying for the posters that lasted. The underground of laying all that was done by sweat equity and love and a real commitment to say and live what you know is true.