Were you to ask—and I am curious about this—I think most queer individuals would point to the Stonewall Riots as the beginning of the fight for queer rights. June is Pride Month for a reason, assuming we’re still allowed to do that by this coming June. And no, Stonewall had nothing to do with Judy Garland but everything to do with being pissed off. At some point, queers were going to say enough, and Stonewall was it.
However, it’s easy to say that because Stonewall is visible. Very visible. Much has been written about it, and a lot of inspiration has been drawn from that moment. Even a movie where a cisgender white twunk threw the first brick. After all this time, how could they not get that right?
But do a little digging, and you’ll find the struggle for gay/queer rights began long before Stonewall. In 1924, Henry Gerber founded the Society for Human Rights. Harry Hay started the Mattachine Society in 1950, followed by the Daughters of Bilitis in 1955. Frank Kameny and his friends picketed for gay rights in front of the White House in 1965—and in suits and dresses, no less.
So the struggle for queer rights didn’t start at Stonewall, and thankfully, it didn’t end there. For me, the initial riot and the protests that followed feel like the moment we were given permission to start making as much noise as possible about the treatment of the queer community—to be open in their protests and push for gay liberation.
I like to think advocates had Stonewall in the backs of their minds when they elected Harvey Milk and fought the Briggs Initiative in California. When Anita Bryant was pied during a press conference. When the queer community rioted in San Francisco after Dan White was found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to just seven years for the murders of Milk and San Francisco Mayor George Moscone.
I was one when Stonewall happened, although I don’t know if that event would have been reported on the news in Dallas. And I was still growing up and figuring out what queer meant as the community continued to push for equal rights and freedom from discrimination. Even if I had been aware, any pursuit of information around that would have been surreptitious. No one was allowed to find out I liked boys.
I was in high school when we first started hearing rumblings about AIDS. No one really knew much. We weren’t hearing about protests. ACT UP was still a few years away. I never had the opportunity—or maybe just didn’t know the right people—to be part of what would become mass protesting around the country.
Plus, that would have required coming out. Which, in light of everything that has happened—the protests, the riots, the secret organizations—is where the fight for queer rights began. Every person who came out. Every person who was willing to be public about who they were, who they loved, and how they loved was part of that struggle.
Because sometimes, advocacy begins with just one person. And that’s easy to forget, especially lately. Reading the news and doomscrolling on social media can be overwhelming and isolating. Except we must remember that we have a long, long history to build on. ACT UP came together in 1987 without social media, and they were able to effect great change.
Imagine what we can do now.
