Pride Is More Than a Celebration. It's a Coalition.
At first glance, voting rights and LGBTQ rights may appear to be separate conversations. I don’t believe they are.
Every June, rainbow flags appear across storefronts, city halls, and corporate campuses. Pride Month is a time of celebration, remembrance, and visibility. It reminds us how far LGBTQ communities have come while honoring those whose courage made today’s freedoms possible.
This year, however, Pride feels different.
Behind the celebrations is a quieter conversation unfolding across the United States. In April, the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision in Louisiana v. Callais significantly weakened key protections under Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act, making it more difficult to challenge certain voting maps that communities of color argue dilute their political voice. Civil rights organizations have warned that the ruling could reshape representation for years to come.
At first glance, voting rights and LGBTQ rights may appear to be separate conversations. I don’t believe they are.
As Chair of the LGBTQ Institute (now transitioning into the Bayard Rustin Society for Leadership Development) at the National Center for Civil and Human Rights, much of my work has focused on building cross-cultural dialogue and understanding how LGBTQ rights evolve across different societies. One lesson continues to emerge regardless of country or community: civil rights rarely move forward in isolation.
Progress has always depended on coalition.
History reminds us that many of the freedoms marginalized communities enjoy today were built through interconnected struggles. The fight for voting rights, racial justice, disability rights, immigrant rights, and LGBTQ equality has often relied on the same democratic institutions, legal protections, and community organizing.
When one part of that foundation weakens, many communities begin asking similar questions about representation, political voice, and access.
For Black queer men, these conversations are not theoretical.
They are lived simultaneously.
Race is not something we leave behind when discussing sexuality. Sexuality is not something we separate from our racial identity. We navigate workplaces, schools, neighborhoods, and political systems carrying both realities at once.
That intersection matters.
A note on perspective: I identify as a Globalist (a framework I explore in my TEDx talks), and I am not writing on behalf of Black men’s lived experiences. Rather, I write from my own journey of living in New York and Atlanta, where many of my closest friendships, collaborations, and community spaces have been alongside queer Black men from all walks of life. Through those cross-cultural relationships and conversations, I have developed frameworks rooted in curiosity, reciprocity, and solidarity that seek to honor our shared humanity while recognizing the uniqueness of each lived experience.
Many of the Southern states with the nation’s largest Black populations are also places where debates surrounding LGBTQ policies remain highly active. The people elected to state legislatures shape conversations about healthcare, education, nondiscrimination protections, and countless other issues affecting everyday life. Civil rights organizations argue that changes to voting protections can influence who holds those legislative seats and, ultimately, which policies receive attention.
This is why Pride has never simply been about celebration.
It has always been about participation.
Participation in our communities.
Participation in civic life.
Participation in democracy itself.
But participation extends beyond voting every election cycle.
It means investing in local organizations, mentoring young leaders, showing up for school board meetings, supporting community advocates, and building relationships across movements rather than treating each issue as someone else’s responsibility.
One of the greatest lessons I have learned working in global LGBTQ advocacy is that movements become stronger when they refuse to compete for attention.
Around the world, I have seen activists recognize that belonging is rarely won by standing alone. Whether advocating for LGBTQ inclusion, racial justice, gender equity, or immigrant rights, sustainable progress often comes from communities understanding that their futures are connected.
That lesson feels especially relevant this Pride Month.
We should absolutely celebrate.
Celebrate our joy.
Celebrate our resilience.
Celebrate our history.
Celebrate the generations who made it possible for many of us to live more openly than those before us.
But let us also remember that Pride was never intended to be comfortable. It was intended to be courageous.
The rainbow flag represents visibility, but democracy depends on participation. One without the other leaves our communities vulnerable.
As we gather this month in celebration, may we also recommit ourselves to protecting the civic foundations that allow all communities to flourish.
Because Pride has never been only about being seen.
It has always been about ensuring everyone has a voice.
Black Girls Do Politics Civic Learning Fund is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. This content is nonpartisan and does not endorse or oppose any candidate or political party.
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