June 11 Part II: Europride featuring Lady Gaga

[Author's note: due to popular demand I have re-posted this entry after a brief hiatus]

And suddenly, there I stood. Surrounded by, immersed in, a haze, a sea, a fog of bodies marching, singing, dancing, cheering; Rainbow banners, Rainbow colors, male thongs, men in dresses, lumberjacks, policemen, balloons of penises wearing tuxedos; whips, pearls, boas, scarves, gender no longer a relevant distinction; Spice Girls, Ricky Martin, party buses, an endless crowd; lips meeting, shutters clicking, and I just wanted to cross the street.

Like so many of Rome’s monuments, the scale of this spectacle registered on the cosmic level: A tidal wave of riotous rainbow semi-trucks and demonstrators on foot. Some groups organized with coordinating outfits led by LGBT club banners--I couldn’t help but reminisce on days gone by when my Cub Scout troupe marched in similar fashion in my hometown’s Veteran’s Day parade--but otherwise there seemed to be no order at all, just perpetual waves of passing faces supporting the cause.

I stood on the curb amongst the cheering throng. Waiting for the end of the parade was hopeless, it could be hours. With no other option, I discreetly slipped into the passing tide and worked my way across the street.

Yes, you heard correctly, I marched in the 2011 Roma Europride Parade.

Back in my apartment:

“Hey man, you wanna see Lady Gaga tonight at the Circus Maximus? We’re leaving in like 5.”

“Mm—depends if I finish dinner in time.” I fully intended to go. But I wasn’t quite ready to admit it.

Now it was his turn to cover up: “I mean, you know, Lady Gaga’s not my thing, like at all. I just wanna go so I can say I did. Plus it’s free, I’d never pay money to see her.”

“Oh no, of course not, I totally agree, we’ll see if I even go.” I downed my bowl of pasta in one swift swallow. “Look at that, finished in time, guess I might as well tag along.”

Stretched as a parade, the true scale of the demonstration was shrouded. But here, sprawling across the legendary Circus Maximus, it’s overwhelming; electricity pulsating through an eternal mass. My roommates and I plunge forward, deeper and deeper into the sea of bodies pressed against each other, the sweet smells of sweat and marijuana mingling in the twilight.

Ciao, Roma. When I first embarked on my artistic and musical journey as a young Italian-American woman, I did not know yet the passion and the fervor for equality, for social justice that would grow so deeply inside of me.

Finally we’ve wriggled, jostled, shoved, forced our way to the center near the stage. But, as I mention to my roommate, I'm not a tall guy and I can't see a thing. The man in front of me, in makeup and a tight sleeveless gay-themed shirt, overhears, turns seeming concerned, and suggests I join a few girls sitting on a fence a few feet away. ‘No, really…” I begin, but he’s already asked them for permission and suddenly I have a perfect view of the stage still empty except a grand piano and flashing words projected onto the backdrop, “PARTY; ROMA; PRIDE; EUPHORIA...” to the accompaniment of an electronic beat.

 As I become closer to each and every one of you through music, dance, art, and fashion, my greater mission to is to be part of the joyous mobilization of the LGBT community worldwide. We fight for freedom. We beckon for compassion. And above all we want full equality NOW.

And suddenly there she is, the famous Lady herself. I was expecting a more dramatic entrance, a more absurd outfit. But she has entered the stage quite casually sporting aquamarine hair, giant sunglasses, and a dress that only breaks maybe one rule of fashion; she approaches the podium. Her voice almost seems detached it is so calm, monotone except for a key word once or twice accentuated in a guttural yell. Only later do I realize how very 20th century it is of me to scribble notes on the back of my map when the whole thing will be posted on YouTube later that night.

We are here to proclaim our strength, our steadfastness, and our intelligence; we will not be treated as anything less than human. It is not just about one law or one example. These laws that have yet to be passed, they set a precedent, and so many young people are being affected: suicide, self-loathing, isolation, inability to find work or integrate based on fear. Modern social issues are real. They are serious. The precedent set by the government is so influential, and that is why we are here; because it regards that some of us, LGBTs, will not have an equal seat at the table--but we will. Let us come together and synthesize our histories into today. Let us be revolutionaries of love and use our human powers to save lives and encourage unity around the world.

I can’t help but reflect on her words in the context of the scene around me. An accepted, acknowledged place in this convoluted web of society, with all of the institutions and benefits that go with it, that’s what the LGBT community longs for. To not be relegated to the fringes, to live openly without facing disapproval and scorn. Which is almost odd in a way to me because I more often find myself trying to escape the inevitability that deeply rooted societal traditions bring. Our lives are mapped out for us: school, college, work, marriage, kids, retirement. Our beliefs: Liberty, Justice, Democracy, Capitalism. We carry out entire conversations of accepted social phrases without really saying anything: ‘Hey, what’s up?’ ‘Nothing, you?’ ‘Just living the dream.’ ‘Keep on keeping on, right?’ ‘For sure.’

For the security social acceptance brings we forfeit the freedom to say, to do whatever we want whenever without having to worry about offending anyone. We become perfect facades that never would dream of a taboo thought or feeling, and authenticity too often becomes something of a guessing game. It seems there would almost be a strange liberation in being totally rejected by society. Suddenly you would be free to completely ignore all of the rules, to live however you pleased; you would never worry about offending anyone because you already had.

LGBTs very well may attain the social acceptance they fight for, but at what cost? Will that man over there still be able to roam the streets in nothing but lime green briefs, stilettos, and a string of pearls? Will the man I saw in a blue dress still wear a lampshade on his head just because he can? Will so many in the crowd still have the liberty to stroll freely in public with balloons of their smiling sexual organ of choice? Maybe. Maybe not.

It’s a sad comedy, me ranting about the downsides of this social acceptance readily available to me while the LGBT community fights so hard for every inch of it they can manage. I don’t mean to downplay the injustice of anti-gay violence and discrimination, especially in countries where homosexuality is a crime. But as for integration into mainstream society, the LGBT community may find it’s not quite so liberating as they had hoped. In the meantime I am investigating real estate on hermit-friendly deserted islands.