Initially, my gut reaction to the Straight Pride event was to organize a small group of friend and confront them. I was invited to a closed group, but I felt that it needed the chance to go viral. I asked the organizer of the private event if I could take it and go public, and they agreed to let me do so. I did this at 9:30 at night, expecting 20-30 friends to show up.

I woke up to nearly a thousand.

All of a sudden, my name is on the front of a major protest. Papers are calling, messages are pouring in, and I realize that I might be held accountable for a massive event. Legal liability became a concern, because if I can’t afford a car with air conditioning, I can’t afford a lawsuit. So, we pivoted.

It became PRISM: Pride, Solidarity, and Multiculturalism. If confronting them was too dangerous, maybe we could celebrate our marginalized communities by a show of diversity! Let’s have a party that drowns out the hate!

Of course, this requires resources. A mysterious backer seemed interested. Non-profits were showing up. This was turning into an event of public speakers, foods from every culture, music, poetry, and community outreach. The Outreach Tables were a crucial component for me, because one way to fight the fearful rhetoric of the far right is to educate our marginalized communities about the resources and opportunities they have available. I had representatives for Immigration Law, LGBTQ+ outreach, domestic violence survivor support, pan-religious representation, and other minority non-profit groups. This was turning into a festival of duversity and inclusion. PRISM was going to unite everyone, and become a beacon of hope during this dark administration.

Well, that was the plan, anyway. First, backers worried about proximity to the event. Other locations came up, but it was feeling like we were abandoning the people protesting on the front lines. This didn’t feel right. Why should we party across town while our compatriots were taking the risk. I was becoming uncomfortable.

Then the shootings happened. Gilroy Garlic Festival. El Paso Texas. SouthHaven, Mississippi. Dayton, Ohio. A Sikh priest was attacked in nearby Hughson. The threat of violence against minorities and marginalized communities became that much more real. The non-profits were scared. The people were scared. Hell, I was scared. Maybe bringing people together as a single target wasn’t the best idea, at least not so soon. We can do PRISM later… make it bigger, better, make it AMAZING. But also, safe.

Let’s take this back to where it began, at least for me. Let’s protest.
Later that evening, I posted the official statement:

Your voices are valid; your words have been heard.
August 24th we will protest against the legitimization of intolerance, bigotry, and terrorism in our community.
Hate speech may be protected, but we do not owe it a stage to preach from.
The National Straight Pride Coalition clearly and shamelessly states its tenets on the front page of their website. These tenets include:Homophobia, Transphobia, White Supremacy, Anti-Women’s Rights, Religious Intolerance, and Nationalism (not to be confused with Patriotism).
Their event, billed as a “celebration of heterosexuality and Western civilization”, is meant to intimidate and terrorize marginalized members of our community, and embolden those that would do them harm. Their peaceful rhetoric is negated by their open invitations to the Proud Boys and Antifa to the event. Their desire to bring violence to our community is transparent, and we cannot allow their hate a foothold in our community.
We will peacefully protest their message on August 24. There will be workshops made available to train and we will make other resources available and known as time progresses.
For those wanting to express their feelings in a different way, we will also be hosting a picnic of collaboration and shared ideas at another location off-site. The details for it will be released as they are finalized, but it will include food, speakers, music, and fellowship.
This administration has brought a darkness that clouds the hearts and obscures hope.
Together we are the light in that darkness.
And we are unstoppable

We will attend protest trainings. We will get the medical team prepared. We will install the ACLU app and film everything. We will make our voices heard, but we will all make it home safely at the end of the day. We don’t know if they will still even have the event… but we will be ready.

We will not be ignored.