The dark side of pride
Pride events are meant to be "inclusive." The idea, in theory, is that everyone is welcome no matter your gender, sexuality, or any other way you identify. But there is a dark side to queer culture that I don't see many people talking about. When you claim to be 'inclusive' but your inclusivity doesn't *really* include everyone.
This past weekend, my partner, Patrick, and I loaded up our van and made our way to Quartsite, AZ for a 'vanlife pride' meetup in the desert. I was very skeptical when I first heard about the event but, over time, Patrick pointed out that some cool people were going to be there and I am actively trying to make friends (message me *winky face*) so we headed east from our campsite in Joshua Tree, CA.
On paper, the event organizers seemed to be looking out for different types of people. It was a free event so it didn't feel like you have to have money to attend. There was a designated quiet area of the event for anyone who needed quiet for sleeping (definitely me). There were group activities on the schedule that made me feel like their intention was to be stewards of the land (trash pickup). The only thing that felt cringe worthy was that the community potluck was required to be vegan (don't get me started on the classism of veganism), but I thought that it was just one thing, not a big deal... right?
It was all wrong. Trash pickup got taken off the itinerary and replaced with a community w.o.d. (Crossfit shorthand for “workout of the day”). The peaceful, quiet side of the meetup could hear the thudding of the music from the party side until midnight one night. Almost all of the people in attendance were in fancy vans, buses, and RVs. They blasted loud music in the main gathering space so, as a person who is easily overstimulated, I felt like I couldn't hang out around the campfire. They didn't even include any opportunity for people to share pronouns during the Day 1 meet and greet (despite posting on social media about the importance of pronouns on International Pronouns Day). It was a mess.
And it had me thinking, this "inclusive" space wasn't ever meant to be inclusive of me. I am queer, but as a fat, neurodiverent, poor, nonbinary person, I was not thought of at all when planning this "pride" event. It was always an event for the thin, rich, neurotypical LGB's.
If they had thought of me, a person in recovery from disordered eating and exercise, they wouldn't have made working out or veganism (another form of restrictive eating for some people) a requirement for participating in the main group activities. If they had thought of me, a neurodivergent person who is easily overwhelmed by sensory stimulation, they would have made *actually* quiet spaces for socializing and sleeping. If they had thought of me, a poor person, they would have made an effort to attract and celebrate all people in different vans, not just the fanciest, nicest vans.
But it wasn't for me. It was for them. The dark side of pride. Their version of pride was intended for the able-bodied and able-minded. The rich. The thin. In a space that is meant to be "inclusive," I have never felt so fucking lonely and unimportant.
Note: I was hesitant to write about this because I know a lot of people enjoyed this event. This was my experience from my perspective as a fat, neurodiverent, poor, nonbinary person. I definitely acknowledge that some people who went didn't experience these things as problems. Also, once I realized that the event wasn't what I thought it was, I went and looked at the @vanlifepride Instagram page, and it all started to make more sense. If you look at their page, it is *mostly* thin people with fancy vans or buses. And very few people with older vans. So yeah, maybe I should have done that research before I went but, like I said, I honestly thought from the information I had seen in the event email that it was going to be something different.
Additional note: Patrick and I were filmed multiple times without our consent throughout the event which was uncomfortable. After the event, the organizers sent out an email saying that they messed up and should have asked everyone to sign a video release form but to respond to the email if you didn't want to be in the promotional videos or on their YouTube channel. So Patrick emailed them to say we both didn't want to be in the videos. No response. The YouTube video came out and Patrick is in it twice and I am in it once. Patrick emailed them again and said that he did not give consent to be in the video. No response. It is honestly so violating and makes me so angry that they used the false security that is calling an event a pride event and then took advantage of people all while claiming that they were creating a safe space for queer people.
Let's be friends! Have you ever been to space that you thought would be inclusive only to realize that it was not meant for you?
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