Why should we have a Pride? There are times when I think about Pride and wonder what it is all for. The mere thought of it all is enough to make me crumple with exhaustion. Whether it’s a solitary weighing up the pro’s and con’s in my head, the obligatory wine-fuelled debate triggered by “have you heard the latest on Pride?” or hearing some of the sniping remarks coming from the sidelines. It’s a perennial paradox.
I remember attending Brighton Pride long before the term ‘flamboyant spectacle’ was coined by the mainstream media – back in the days when a march was a march (to nowhere in particular as it happened). Back in the days when the park event consisted mainly of evaluating glances over at other people’s picnic hampers while struggling to decipher the words of a local cabaret entertainer balancing on precarious temporary staging.
I’ve been tentatively involved in Pride for the past ten years. In fact I met my hubby at a Pride meeting back in 2003. Huw was on the committee, had just designed a new website for Pride and I bluntly told him it was rubbish and that REALBrighton should do it. I moved in a few months later. REALBrighton continued to poke its nose in with a talented designer friend creating a whole new look and logo for the event (doing away with WordArt forever) and The Lovely Sam (it’s his name you know) along with a talented team of volunteer photographers capturing iconic images that were to grace the pages of magazines the world over. My contribution was to run the information point on the park – a task which makes me shudder to think about even to this day. But that’s another story – 2003 was a vintage year.
Pride in Brighton & Hove became a charity soon after and I thoroughly approved. The reasoning behind charitable status was a solid one – to give the organisation clear objectives and protect the event from becoming any one person’s plaything. There were stories abound of organisers from other Prides disappearing into the sunset in dubious circumstances and leaving events in the lurch, and in some cases bereft of funds, so it seemed like a sensible move. It also seemed plausible that it would help to attract much needed sponsorship in it’s more formal setup – in fact Manchester, London and other prides followed suit. The good intention was definitely there. But then we all know about good intentions.
Since then, goodness knows the event has had something of a chequered history. It’s been a tale of finance questioning, disagreements, unsavoury headlines, a split community, doubt over it’s continued existence, more disagreements, changes in trusteeship, laddered tights, questionable decision making, angry meetings (that just lacked the pointy hats and pitchforks to make them medieval), more doubts, stolen lipliners, more disagreements – in fact all the ingredients of an unfeasible soap opera. Indeed, I do believe the words “get out of my pub” have been used on more than one occasion.
However, despite all the drama, the event itself managed, somehow, to continue its ascendancy to a festival of epic proportions for such a small and sometimes bitchy seaside town like Brighton. In fact it became something like a runaway train, hurtling unstoppably on. Which made balancing the books pretty much impossible. It doesn’t take a mathematical genius to glance over the bucket receipts and the attendance figures to see that only a fraction of those attending were putting their hand in their pocket – the problem was possibly the ‘biggest free pride in Europe’ marketing strap-line. Because there is no such thing as a free event. While little old ladies were stuffing notes into the bucket on the parade – over at the park LGBT people were actively avoiding or pushing past the bucket collectors. Seen with my own eyes, I was tempted to rip off their sequins, smudge their makeup or openly criticise Pink, and that was just the Gs.
A ground-hog day of an annual cycle emerged over Pride. Post event came the well-spun headlines of ‘Best ever Pride!’, a few months later came the ‘Pride in Financial Crisis’ and a ‘Pride in Peril’ plea to the community. Then a public meeting. Then silence descended. Once Halloween, Christmas and New Year were over, the bickering hubbub began again in earnest with divides between the gay businesses. Then, once Easter and May Day bank holidays were over it all went quiet again. Fast forward three months and the city was awash in rainbow flags. Well that’s how it seemed to me.
However, things came crashing down in 2011, the year that Preston Park became a ticketed event. The reasons for this disaster are just too numerous to list, but let’s just say that very bad decision making and a seemingly vindictive handling of contracts and contractors played a lead role in this particular tragedy. The hard work and goodwill of so many people laid to waste. Unfortunately, charitable status did nothing to prevent this.
In 2012 the event was saved by a Community Interest Company. I was very sceptical about the event passing into the hands of any sort of company, and particularly one run by businesses. However, I was wrong. The event needed to be treated as a business for it to work. For the first time in many a year, there were funds raised from the event available to donate to local LGBT charities. Those who had left or were ousted were back and had the grace not to do the ‘told you so’ dance.
This year saw the funds raised over the past two years rise to over £70k. That is something we can be truly proud about. This year saw the emergence of a political element too, with awareness raising over a number of issues, not least the developing situation in Russia and the impact it has on Eastern European states, along with continued anti-LGBT human rights atrocities around the world. Again, this is a giant step forward and my congratulations go to Paul Kemp, Dulcie Danger, David Hill and their team (together with all the artists and DJs who gave their time for nothing) for turning Pride around. Indeed, all our heartfelt thanks should go to the all-new Brighton Pride for their hard work and dedication.
In any fairytale, this would be where I would write “and they all lived happily ever after”. But I suppose we live in the real world and it’s something of a disappointment, albeit expected, that the moaning over Pride continues.
So, after my potted history of Pride it’s time for me to jump on my soapbox with my handy hints for you to fully enjoy Pride. Here goes:
1. Pride will never be everything to everyone – if you think you are being under-represented, then get involved and constructively find ways to represent yourself, rather than sniping and griping. Any suggestions should be made constructively and realistically – I’m still waiting to hear whether I can have a free marquee with bar and stage for just me and my mates.
2. If you don’t like the Park, don’t go. I don’t like huge crowds of people or queueing for drinks, so I don’t go. It doesn’t make Pride any less important or relevant. It is what it is. Why try to put a dampener on many thousands of people’s enjoyment. If you don’t like any of it (I can sympathise – I live on the seafront and have to deal with weekend upon weekend of loud and pointless motor rallies), it isn’t that difficult to avoid.
3. If you think the parade isn’t as good or there weren’t as many big floats as in previous years then perhaps have a quick root about google and find out how much a lorry costs to hire, how much insurance is, how much time, effort and money it takes to put on a travelling show and then think again. You could get one together yourself. I dare you.
4. If you can’t afford £12 for the early-bird ticket, again, don’t go. I quite fancy a holiday in the Bahamas, but I don’t expect anyone else to pay for it.
5. Let’s build on the political messages we can convey over Pride – there are people who need our help, awareness to be raised. I’m up for it, are you?
6. If you’re a business and have the audacity to fly the rainbow flag over Pride weekend, then put some money towards it. You have the opportunity to make a stack of cash over Pride, so look on it as an investment. Otherwise, you’re a fraud and you know it (and so should everyone else).
7. Similarly, if you’re a business in the St James Street area and make money over Pride, then pay your dues to the Street Party organisers. The Street Party may well be a necessity on safety grounds after such a large event, but it costs money to put on which has to be found. All you really have to lose is the two days it will take you to count out your bumper takings after the weekend.
8. If you’re a Local Authority who uses Pride as a flagship event in it’s marketing bumph, don’t take away funding. The £25k is a drop in the ocean to you, but can be put to very good use by Pride.
9. Pride is a an infinite loop of community, local scene businesses and Pride – without any one of the three elements, there is no Pride. I think it’s something worth remembering. My only tiny personal suggestion for Pride would be to have fuller details of all the gay bars and clubs, along with community group information on their website. A small point that I hope is taken in the spirit it is offered. Happy to lend a hand on that – I’ve got a bit of experience in that area. Pride is a great opportunity to showcase our city as a year-round gay destination!
10. If you think there should be a Straight Pride, then I’m afraid there’s no hope for you.
My Pride has always been about the anticipation a few days before. The tents going up in the park, the gay businesses putting up great swathes of rainbow fabric outside their venues. The secrecy over what people plan to wear. The visitors arriving, who don’t usually enjoy the opportunity to be out with such abandon, revelling in a new found freedom. The floats and participants making their way to the start of the parade in the morning as people take their places along the route. Last minute makeup tips. The frozen smile as someone else turns up in the same outfit. The seeing all your friends, acquaintances and complete strangers and wishing them a ‘Happy Pride!’. The Smiling. I still get goosebumps.
They say that you only really miss something when it is gone. We came very near to losing Pride and we should all do our very best to make sure that doesn’t happen again.
It’s been a bitter-sweet year for LGBT people on a global scale. Some of the big moves forward are fantastic, but the barbaric treatment of LGBT human beings that continue and are actually on the rise are truly horrifying. So, in answer to the question I pose at the beginning; we should have a Pride because we can.
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