AMP’s got Pride

By Molly Freedenberg

Last weekend was a special one for AM Italy folk: we marched in the Euro Pride Roma parade with the American Embassy.

I didn’t know exactly what to expect from this combination of Pride’s joyful eccentricity and Rome’s jovial (but guarded) Catholicism. But nothing could have prepared us for what we encountered when we descended upon the embassy meeting spot – McDonald’s, of course – in Piazza della Republicca. It was as though someone had picked up a San Francisco street party and dropped the whole thing in the center of ancient Rome: rainbow balloons and scantily clad dancers on garishly decorated floats, drunken revelers and impassioned activists and savvy street vendors, all gliding across a Colosseum landscape.

I realized upon arriving that this was not Rome’s Pride Parade, but rather Europe’s Pride Parade held in Rome, which explained the multitude of languages we heard and, perhaps, the lack of Italian ambivalence about freakiness. But Italy also represented itself in full force, my favorite example of which was a float full of Roman gladiators dancing to electronic music.

The four of us – Liz, Charles, Christina, and I – joined the embassy folk early on and helped carry their sign – a banner reading “Born This Way” in rainbow lettering (in reference both to Lady GaGa’s song and, apparently, their opinion on homosexuality) with an American flag ribbon and embassy logo beneath. We also managed to gain control of several of rainbow crayons smartly purchased by Fleur (who coordinates American cultural events outside the embassy, including helping get Laday GaGa to Pride), which we gifted to some marchers and imposed upon others (methinks the Italian beverage vendor, in the end, couldn’t resist my enthusiasm … or sequined American flag bustier). It was a good time, an important moment, and, for me, an occasion of reconciliation with my government.

I’ve been involved in many Pride parades and attended many Pride parties in many cities. I’m familiar with the feeling of solidarity, of importance, of being somewhere that’s both a celebration and a call to action. But most of the time, I feel tied to Pride culture and ashamed of my country. There, in Rome, official representatives of my country were marching in the parade, carrying a banner that contradicts common fundamentalist American Christian opinions about homosexuality, lobbying to get one of the world’s biggest pop artists to honor the cause with her presence. My country and my values were in sync.

I become ever more aware that politics is complicated, that our President and our Congress and our People don’t always agree. That state policies differ from national policies. That identifying and granting human rights is a difficult, treacherous, bureaucratic path. And at Pride, I felt – perhaps for the first time – that our government is doing the best it can where and when it can. We can’t get same-sex marriage legislation through Congress yet, but we can allow same-sex partners of government officials the same benefits that heterosexual partners enjoy. We can allow government officials to be photographed with a Gay Pride banner overseas.

In that moment, I was proud to be American. I was proud to wear that bustier and cowboy hat which, earlier, was chosen mostly out of irony. I felt a connection to my country, and hope for its future, that I haven’t felt since the night Obama was elected and we all danced in the streets.

Later that night, we lost track of the embassy folk, who apparently made their way closer to Lady GaGa than we were. We watched the phenomenal performer sing two songs accompanied only by her piano and her (surprisingly) impressive voice. I must say that I was hoping for a bit more GaGa spectacle, but I realized that wasn’t the point. To many, GaGa is a big deal. And our government realized Pride was a big enough deal to warrant sending her an official invitation to the party. For all those folks whose night was made by seeing GaGa live in their town – for free – they have our government to thank.

For my renewed sense of patriotism, I have my government to thank too.

(For more of Molly’s thoughts about the Embassy, check out her personal blog here.)

By Molly Freedenberg

Last weekend was a special one for AM Italy folk: we marched in the Euro Pride Roma parade with the American Embassy.

I didn’t know exactly what to expect from this combination of Pride’s joyful eccentricity and Rome’s jovial (but guarded) Catholicism. But nothing could have prepared us for what we encountered when we descended upon the embassy meeting spot – McDonald’s, of course – in Piazza della Republicca. It was as though someone had picked up a San Francisco street party and dropped the whole thing in the center of ancient Rome: rainbow balloons and scantily clad dancers on garishly decorated floats, drunken revelers and impassioned activists and savvy street vendors, all gliding across a Colosseum landscape.

I realized upon arriving that this was not Rome’s Pride Parade, but rather Europe’s Pride Parade held in Rome, which explained the multitude of languages we heard and, perhaps, the lack of Italian ambivalence about freakiness. But Italy also represented itself in full force, my favorite example of which was a float full of Roman gladiators dancing to electronic music.

The four of us – Liz, Charles, Christina, and I – joined the embassy folk early on and helped carry their sign – a banner reading “Born This Way” in rainbow lettering (in reference both to Lady GaGa’s song and, apparently, their opinion on homosexuality) with an American flag ribbon and embassy logo beneath. We also managed to gain control of several of rainbow crayons smartly purchased by Fleur (who coordinates American cultural events outside the embassy, including helping get Laday GaGa to Pride), which we gifted to some marchers and imposed upon others (methinks the Italian beverage vendor, in the end, couldn’t resist my enthusiasm … or sequined American flag bustier). It was a good time, an important moment, and, for me, an occasion of reconciliation with my government.

I’ve been involved in many Pride parades and attended many Pride parties in many cities. I’m familiar with the feeling of solidarity, of importance, of being somewhere that’s both a celebration and a call to action. But most of the time, I feel tied to Pride culture and ashamed of my country. There, in Rome, official representatives of my country were marching in the parade, carrying a banner that contradicts common fundamentalist American Christian opinions about homosexuality, lobbying to get one of the world’s biggest pop artists to honor the cause with her presence. My country and my values were in sync.

I become ever more aware that politics is complicated, that our President and our Congress and our People don’t always agree. That state policies differ from national policies. That identifying and granting human rights is a difficult, treacherous, bureaucratic path. And at Pride, I felt – perhaps for the first time – that our government is doing the best it can where and when it can. We can’t get same-sex marriage legislation through Congress yet, but we can allow same-sex partners of government officials the same benefits that heterosexual partners enjoy. We can allow government officials to be photographed with a Gay Pride banner overseas.

 

In that moment, I was proud to be American. I was proud to wear that bustier and cowboy hat which, earlier, was chosen mostly out of irony. I felt a connection to my country, and hope for its future, that I haven’t felt since the night Obama was elected and we all danced in the streets.

Later that night, we lost track of the embassy folk, who apparently made their way closer to Lady GaGa than we were. We watched the phenomenal performer sing two songs accompanied only by her piano and her (surprisingly) impressive voice. I must say that I was hoping for a bit more GaGa spectacle, but I realized that wasn’t the point. To many, GaGa is a big deal. And our government realized Pride was a big enough deal to warrant sending her an official invitation to the party. For all those folks whose night was made by seeing GaGa live in their town – for free – they have our government to thank.

For my renewed sense of patriotism, I have my government to thank too.

(For more of Molly’s thoughts about the Embassy, check out her personal blog here.)