Why I March

I know the feeling of this song, intimately.

Even though I was never thrown out and had to leave with nothing but a small suitcase, I vividly remember overhearing my parents argue about me, about my being gay. I remember my father telling a boy to leave our house as he presumed him to be gay and influencing me. I remember my mother blaming herself for her failure in raising me. I remember the loneliness, the isolation and unacceptability.
I also vividly remember the teasing, taunting and apartness from my peers at school. I remember sitting alone at lunch. I remember the fear and having to hold my urine all day so I wouldn’t have to face the bullies in the school bathrooms. I remember being beaten up as I was called a queer, a faggot and gay. I remember being a misfit and hoping one day this would all be over. I remember the loneliness, the isolation and unacceptability.

I was out by the time this song was released. I had found my tribe in a gay club in my hometown. I finally had friends, acceptance and wasn’t lonely anymore. I do vividly remember hearing this for the very first time sitting on John’s couch as he insisted I sit and listen. I remember the overwhelming feelings that rushed through me as I understood every syllable of each lyric, and John holding me as we both wept. After that first listen we used to dance to this tune at the club and we understood every word as we moved to its beat, but we danced as we had survived, found each other and found acceptance …at least in each other.

I march at Pride because I have to. There are still Small town boys who need me to march, especially now more than ever as our freedoms and acceptance are being threatened.

Bronski Beat – Jimmy Sommerville – Smalltown  Boy – 1984