Memphis Pride Parade draws thousands
Saturday’s Memphis Pride Parade featured a brass band, men strutting in tights and bra tops, loud cheers and revelers throwing Mardi Gras beads and candy.
It was the first in-person Pride parade in Memphis since 2019, and it was big, with thousands of marchers and participants outside on a clear, sunny and warm afternoon. Participants celebrated their own identity as gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer or transgender, or came to back others.
And the procession was long, winding through Beale Street and nearby, lasting for over an hour, starting and ending with two huge rainbow flags held flat over the pavement.
Organized by Mid-South Pride, the event had mainstream support — Memphis Mayor Jim Strickland rode in a vermillion convertible near the front of the parade.
“Joe Ozment for Judge,” read one sign. At least one other candidate for a judgeship, Ross Sampson, handed out fliers on the sidewalk.
Officers with the Memphis Police Department rode in the parade in squad cars and waved from windows.
Corporate contingents represented big companies like Methodist Le Bonheur Healthcare, AutoZone and many others. First Horizon acted as a major event sponsor.
Dona Kham, 30, watched the colorful scene with her partner Amber Rasasack, 34, and their two Maltese dogs, Auri and Oliver.
“It feels good to know that we’re not alone,” Kham said. Both said they had never attended a Pride parade before.
“I’m from a small town, so we don’t have anything like this. And I moved here before COVID hit,” said Kham, who is from Lafayette, Louisiana.
She said she was sad to see Pride events canceled during the worst parts of the pandemic. This time, she insisted her partner set aside her job as a nail technician for a day to come with her.
“I made her kind of miss work to come with me. And it makes me feel very good inside to be able to enjoy this, to see other people and know that you’re not alone.”
Rasasack said she she was happy to see people who aren’t part of the community supporting the event. She said her parents weren’t initially supportive when she came out. “You have to give them time to adjust, to see your point of view.”
People skipped and danced down Beale Street and waved from floats, cars and horsedrawn carriages. Drag queens waved. The Lambda Car Club showed off vehicles. Black-clad men representing Hoist Leathermen and Fetish Club, including one man in a mask that almost entirely covered his face, saluted the crowd.
Carey Fleming, 32, said he’d driven three hours from Jackson, Mississippi, to see the event. He was watching with his boyfriend, LaDarius Guastavis, 28, who lives in Memphis.
“I’m enjoying it,” Fleming said. He said this event can “open the eyes of the community to what’s out there, to see what love is about.”
Supporters of the LGBTQ community celebrate June as Pride Month, marking the anniversary of the Stonewall uprising in New York in 1969.
Amid Saturday’s revelry, it was hard to remember that not so long ago, similar parades in Tennessee were far smaller and far more marginalized.
In 1993, for instance, organizers of a lesbian and gay pride parade in Chattanooga filed a lawsuit for the right to parade down a main thoroughfare after some area residents said they didn’t want the parade in their neighborhood, The Associated Press reported at the time.
A 1994 article in The Commercial Appeal reported 150 people marching in a parade in Midtown and quoted people in the neighborhood expressing disapproval.
Retiree Vaughan Dewar was watching Saturday’s parade. He’s 68 and said he’s seen huge changes in acceptance in his lifetime.
He described himself as “try-sexual” — “I’ve tried everything, and I’ll do it again.” — and said he’s been interested in cross-dressing since he was a young child.
“Back then, they would send you for electroshock therapy,” he said. “Because they didn’t understand, and they didn’t accept.”
“So we’ve come a long way, baby.”
Just then came one of the final moments of the parade, one more huge rainbow flag held parallel to the ground, held up by many hands.