What does Pride mean to you?

Janet Webber (she/her) — Executive Director

My appreciation of Pride has evolved over the years and likely will continue to do so as our sociocultural context continues its perpetual transformation. In the beginning, naively, Pride was about an awesome long weekend of hanging out with friends, dancing till all hours, and partying—Davie Street and the West End would go off! I moved to Vancouver in my early 20s and in some respect, I came of age here, in a city that seemed unconditionally accepting of gay rights. So inclusive that I didn’t grasp the important political and social dimensions of 2SLGBTQAI+ visibility. As I’ve witnessed the continual push against the arc of progress, I’ve come to understand Pride as a necessary and powerful tool for advocacy and awareness raising, fostering acceptance and building community. Pride is an important reminder to everyone of the ongoing fight for universal liberation, equality and justice.

Seth Erais (he/him) — Program Manager

It is difficult to come up with the right words to use to describe what Pride means to me. Through the years it has been a rollercoaster of a relationship as I grew in my own identity and learnt what it meant to live proudly and visibly in my transness. Walking beside parents, sisters, brothers, colleagues, friends and family as they march through the streets, celebrating queer joy and supporting their loved ones, is an experience I never thought I would have. I am profoundly grateful that this is something we are able to do today—that I am able to do today —and that my daughter will grow up hearing stories about queer joy that celebrate what it means to live as your authentic self.

Nola Mellon (they/them) — Design Lead

Pride has evolved so much for me over the years. When I was younger, Pride was a reason to party all day and night. It was a big, bright, loud introduction to the community I would eventually find a home in. But as I got older and became more aware of social issues, Pride became a protest. I was marching for visibility; I was marching for the people who couldn't. I wanted to be seen, I wanted to be listened to, and I wanted you to care.  

Now, Pride has become about queer joy. It’s seeing the happiness on my friends faces as we dance together, the love they show by coordinating outfits to represent the colours of the trans flag. It’s about younger queer people embracing their authenticity fearlessly, and the vibrating excitement in a crowd of 200 queer people when the DJ plays a Chappell Roan song.  

Pride for me is choosing joy over fear, connection over isolation, solidarity over individualism. Every day—not just for the month of June. Pride has been so many things over the years and will continue to evolve because there is so much work still to do and there is so much joy to protect.

Gabrielle Parent (she/her) — Communications Manager

There weren’t any queer or trans people in the town where I grew up. Well, there may have been, but there was no visible queer community or representation in my small, rural, southern Ontario town. The most formative years of my young life were spent in an area colloquially referred to the “Bible Belt” of Ontario—a very conservative, Catholic region populated with families who all seemed fit within a certain mold. I attended French Catholic school, went to church, and did my very best to fit in. My family was not particularly religious or conservative, but the community around us certainly was. While there is nothing wrong with holding those values, it did lead to my younger self witnessing overt homophobia, and the lack of queer and trans visibility left wounds from which I am still trying to heal. It was not until I moved to Victoria, British Columbia to attend university that I saw my first Pride Parade.

This context is important when I reflect on what Pride means to me. The lack of Pride in my young adult life did not erase my queerness, it only harmed me and momentarily delayed the inevitable. But as I grew into adulthood, coming of age in a far more accepting and inclusive environment, I began to heal and embrace my true self. For those first few years, Pride was a space for me to openly explore my identity. It was a season where I witnessed the joy within the LGBTQIA+ community and the acceptance of the surrounding society. I saw people who looked like me, felt like me, loved like me. It felt like I was finally home.

Over the years, the meaning of Pride has changed for me. It is still a space for community building, acceptance, and queer joy, but it has also become a means of protest. The first Pride marches were, after all, protests and resistence. With the increasing volatility against the queer and trans community—across B.C. and Canada—Pride has become all the more important as an avenue for unapologetic visibility. Pride affirms our identities and boldly states that the LGBTQIA+ community has always and will always be here. We will not be pushed back into the shadows, and we hope you join us as we dance in the light.

Sofia Sokic (she/her) — Program Assistant  

When I think of Pride and the weight that it holds, I think of a few specific words. Equality, happiness, love, and peace are only a handful that come to mind when thinking of what this month means—to not only the LGBTQIA+ community but also the world. As an ally, I often take myself out of conversations about Pride and LGBTQIA+ issues because I believe it is important to platform voices from the community, to hear their stories and experiences, rather than continuing to amplify straight voices. But Pride really does mean so much to me, from the positive impact it has had on my friends in the community to the increased visibility it has allowed for queer and trans folks since it began. Pride embodies the idea that one day we will be able to live in a world where everyone can live in peace without wondering if they will be able to marry the person they love, or if they be bullied for being who they truly are.