The Cost of Being Visible
Pride means resilience, not just rainbows
There is something exhausting about waking up every day and feeling like your existence has become a political debate.
For many LGBTQIA+ people – especially Black queer and trans folks – the current political climate is not just something happening on television or inside government buildings. It is showing up in our workplaces, our schools, our healthcare systems, our churches, our social media feeds, and even our family dinners. It follows us into everyday life.
Over the last few years, we have watched politicians across the country use LGBTQIA+ people as talking points for campaigns, culture wars, and headlines. Drag shows became "threats." Trans youth became "issues." Diversity became a dirty word. Healthcare became negotiable. Human beings became political strategies.
And while some people experience these conversations as politics, many of us experience them as survival.
Here in Erie, the effects may not always register as loudly as they do nationally, but they are absolutely present. You can feel it in the hesitation of young queer people who are unsure if they are safe to be visible. You can feel it in the burnout among nonprofit leaders and organizers trying to fill gaps left by systems that continue to fail marginalized communities. You can feel it in the silence of people who once spoke up loudly but now feel exhausted from constantly defending their humanity.
The reality is that Erie's LGBTQIA+ community has always existed. We have always been here – working in hospitals, running businesses, leading nonprofits, creating art, organizing events, raising children, serving in churches, mentoring youth, and helping shape the culture of this city. Yet somehow, in moments like these, our existence is framed as something "new," controversial, or disruptive.
What makes this political climate especially dangerous is how it emboldens everyday cruelty.
When national leaders spend years attacking LGBTQIA+ people publicly, it gives permission for that behavior locally. It normalizes discrimination. It strengthens online harassment. It makes people more comfortable excluding others in schools, workplaces, and community spaces. And for transgender people specifically, it has created a level of hostility that many have never experienced so openly before.
At the same time, there is another truth happening in Erie.
Despite the fear, people are still building community.
Organizations are still creating affirming spaces. Public health workers are still showing up for vulnerable populations. Ballroom houses (community support structures for LGBTQIA+ individuals, especially those estranged from their biological families) are still giving people a chosen family. Pride organizations are still creating visibility in places where people once felt invisible. Small acts of care – checking on someone, making room at the table, creating safer spaces – have become acts of resistance.
And maybe that is what Pride really has to mean right now.
Not just celebration. Not just rainbow logos in June. But resilience.
Pride has never only been about parties and festivals. Pride was born from people who were tired of being criminalized, erased, targeted, and silenced. It came from people demanding the right to exist openly and safely. That history matters right now because many LGBTQIA+ people feel like we are watching the country move backward in real time.
But even in this climate, I still believe community is stronger than fear.
I believe Erie has an opportunity to decide what kind of city it wants to be moving forward – a city where diversity is treated like a threat, or a city where people from all walks of life can contribute, grow, and exist safely. A city where LGBTQIA+ youth feel forced to leave, or a city where they can imagine futures for themselves here.
Because at the end of the day, this conversation is not really about politics.
It is about people.
People who deserve healthcare without fear.
People who deserve workplaces where they are respected.
People who deserve schools where they feel safe.
People who deserve to love openly.
People who deserve to exist without constantly having to prove their humanity.
And regardless of political trends, legislation, or culture wars – LGBTQIA+ people are not going anywhere.
We are your neighbors.
Your coworkers.
Your leaders.
Your family.
Your community.
And we deserve to be treated like it.
Dalen Michael Hooks is a community architect, founder of Erie Pride 365, and Clinic Director at Central Outreach Erie. They can be reached at dalen@centraloutreach.com or dalenmichael.com
