Our first event was the Dyke March and proved to be an obstacle in gay education. I went alone because I was unable to formulate an explanation of the title — the term dyke is derrogatory, which creates a confusing situation for children. How can you explain that saying “dyke” is okay when talking about that specific event, but not when talking about an individual. Interestingly, this controversy was brought up at the event when the founders declared they were “taking the word back” to redefine it as a positive term. I’ll hold off on making “dyke” a household word until it’s officially “taken back.”
The next morning was the Pride Parade and Festival. I had no trouble explaining this one. “The Pride Festival is a celebration of gay lifestyles,” I relayed on our walk to Monument Square. As we passed Blackstones, Winter observed a few men in drag and one in particular who was half-dragged. “He’s wearing high heals,” she noticed.
“Yes, and don’t his legs look great in heels?” I pointed out. “People get all dressed up for Pride. You’ll see men dressed like women, women dressed like men and all kinds of costumes. This festival is better than Halloween.”
“Well, that guy isn’t wearing bottoms under his shirt.” She was hung up on the Blackstones guy.
“People celebrate in all sorts of ways,” I said, hoping it was enough prep.
Winter and I, along with the Maine Roller Derby girls, joined the Frannie Peabody Center in the parade. Waiting for the start, we geared up in our skates and pads. Winter was excited to sit in the back of the truck and throw candy to people while I skated around waving. I was given rainbow keychains to pass out. Since I’m not keen on approaching people, I gave them to Winter to throw from the truck.
“Mom, what’s this?” She pointed to the condom in the keychain that I hadn’t noticed.
Crap. I forgot most Pride giveaways have condoms in them — last year, my friend’s daughter almost got a mouthful of condom when she unwrapped a “lollipop.” I took the keychains back. “They’re for adults,” I said, not about to initiate a safe-sex conversation in the middle of Congress Street. That one could wait.
After the parade we celebrated with over-priced ice cream at the Deering Oaks Festival. “Mommy!” Winter pointed at a drag queen manning an informational booth, “that’s where they put make-up on and make you pretty.” It wasn’t at all a make-up booth, and I wasn’t sure if she was implying I needed to visit or if she wanted to. Either way, her love of drag queens is a good first step to becoming the girliest lesbian alive!
Let’s hope she doesn’t turn out straight and I have to disown her.