Over the course of my life, I have had the opportunity to do a number of things that would have never seemed likely to the younger Brian. From working on a submarine, to climbing the Great Wall of China, to falling in love with farm animals, each of these has helped me to broaden and enhance the person that I am. On this Sunday in June, 2010, I was to add another unlikely interlude; marching in the San Francisco Pride Parade. The road to this destination had started, as is often the case, with an invitation. In this case, it was a request for volunteers to help get Farm Sanctuary's message out by partnering with East Bay Animal Advocates, a California non-profit organization. Their stated mission is, "Through consumer education, corporate outreach, direct aid and legal research, our mission is to examine and analyze the impact of the California agriculture on animals."
The night before the parade, I struggled to find a good way into the city. The e-mail that I had received indicated that one would be crazy, perhaps certifiable, to attempt to drive into the city since it would be a traffic madhouse, and the available parking would be greatly exceeded by the demand. This meant trying to find public transportation. BART, or Bay Area Rapid Transit, was my first option, but I was dismayed to find that the Fremont Station was not open on Sundays. Hmm, maybe Pleasanton? It turned out that Pleasanton had trains running, but the first would not arrive in San Francisco until eight forty-nine. Since we were supposed to arrive between nine and nine-thirty, this was cutting it close by my standards. I checked several other stations before settling on the Oakland Coliseum, home of the crappy Raiders, station which would get me there ten minutes earlier. While the map made it look as if the San Francisco arrival station was almost exactly where I needed to be, I wanted to allow myself the extra ten minutes in case I got turned around and ended up lost. I don't know why I always worry about this since I almost never arrive late, but in the grand scheme of things, I guess I could have worse hang-ups to deal with.
Following historical precedent, I arrived early, before the float in fact, and spent some time wandering Spear Street between Mission and Howard looking for any signs of the East Bay Animal Advocates group. About twenty minutes later, I saw a couple of ladies on a flatbed who were wearing animal rights T-shirts, so I checked and it turned out I was in the right place. Once they had confirmed that they were in the right place, the order of the floats being understandably important, I helped with some unloading in order to avoid the dreaded feeling of being idle. While we were unloading and arranging the costumes, stickers, buttons, and posters, more and more people were arriving. Some were part of the group and some were just too interesting not to notice as they walked by. Among them was a woman in an incredibly revealing outfit who seemed to gather the attention of mainly female on-lookers and an elderly overweight man wearing nothing at all as he pushed his bicycle up the street. It was abundantly clear that my T-shirt and shorts were going to rank as ultra-conservative attire for this day.
In order to jazz up our outfits a bit, mine in particular was in dire need, the organizers had brought some fruit and vegetables with which to make garlands and necklaces. Ignoring my utter lack of artistic talent or aesthetic leanings, I set about making myself a necklace. I strung and tied together real and wax fruit and vegetables in order to make something that I thought somehow still looked unappetizing. Fortunately, I was savvy enough to at least include some strategically placed bananas in my arrangement, including one in my right front pocket and around my neck. This immediately seemed to get them noticed by a passing drag-queen. Yep, I was still feeling under, or was that over, dressed.
Once I was dolled up, I helped to attach the side banners to the float railings and helped some of the other folks with their costumes, resulting in one awkward photo I would later have to explain to Lori (Hey, there's nothing wrong with being helpful).
After a quick get-together and briefing in an adjacent alley-way, we were ready to take our positions and wait. Waiting is normally not one of my favorite things, but at least today there was a lot of hustle and bustle and colorful characters to observe. I chatted with a few people as we milled about, once again fighting to allay any sense of idle time. In order to avoid carrying my camera bag, which I had filled with brochures, I transferred them to my cargo shorts pockets. With five pockets brimming with literature, I was armed for the road ahead.
And then, in a couple of fits and starts, we were officially parading down Market Street. As we made our left turn, we were allowed to begin handing out our fliers. On this day, I was armed with the official "Veggie Starter Kit" fliers for the event as well as my Farm Sanctuary Brochures, which I handed out in a combination, a Vegan one-two punch you may say. Using lines such as, "Free Vegan recipes", "Go Veg and save farm animals", "Help abused farm animals" (I retired this one since it was too close to "Help abuse farm animals"), and, "Change your life and the lives of animals", I tried to target as many people as possible. In areas where it was particularly warm and there was no shade, I changed my marketing pitch to, "Free sun shades and fans", and mimicked the use of the fliers in both capacities. This got some additional takers, and hopefully readers. I even got some passed out by letting people take pictures, once again, not with me, but with the bananas. As we made our way down the parade route, I also tried to identify those who had accepted the "Free Veggie Kits" from previous "flier hander-outers" and add the Farm Sanctuary brochures to their collection. This proved to be another effective tactic, although it made for more of a challenge to juggle the different literature and customize my delivery package. While constantly falling behind and running to catch up, we traversed the route and with last turn, we found ourselves done.
I had done it! In addition to being part of the largest Pride Parade in the United States on its fortieth anniversary, I had handed out an impressive quantity of literature. While I still had plenty left, I had easily handed out the stuff that I got from Jess at Farm Sanctuary, and made a huge dent in my personal stash of Farm Sanctuary brochures. This was all in addition to several stacks of the official hand-outs. Coming so shortly on the heels of the Ohio trip, where I must admit I felt a little unsuccessful in my signature gathering, this was redemption for me. As the sole representative for Farm Sanctuary in attendance, I had made a difference and had given over a hundred people the chance to make a real difference in their lives. If they were up to the challenge, this difference would have a cascading effect, much like the transformation my life underwent, that can gradually reshape the world around us. I was feeling good about myself.
As the sounds of the parade faded from my ears, a new consciousness entered my mind. Until today, I had never understood what this parade was about. I had always seen it as a highly eclectic, but uniformly garish affair. I guess I could summarize it best as the weekend that I would avoid going to San Francisco. I could not understand the flamboyance and pageantry and wondered why "these folks" insisted on making such a big deal about their sexual orientation. As I looked at this through my new paradigm, it suddenly became clear. It wasn't about the attire, the music, or the shock and awe factor. It was about the pride. True pride comes from the ability to exist on the fringes, in many cases outside the societal norms, and to be able to do so without compromising that which makes a person who they are. This is the part that I could not understand before. For most of my life, I have not been in a position where any of my views or positions would be seen as unusual or threatening. A "Heterosexual Pride Parade" would be meaningless since it demonstrates conformity rather than the strength to say, "I will not conform!" My commitment to animal rights and ethical treatment has been my first excursion into an arena where many people just don't get it. It takes courage and commitment to hold to these principles in the face of those who would question them or overtly mock them. These criticisms have an amplified sting since they attack the very fiber of who I am and how I have chosen to define myself. The strength to overcome deserves more than a sense of pride, it deserves a celebration!
