On June 27, 1970, a tiny band of hippies and “hair fairies” staged San Francisco’s first Pride celebration: a march on Polk Street, followed on the 28th by a “gay-in” in Golden Gate Park. They were marking the first anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, when queers fought back against a police raid on the Stonewall Inn, a gay bar in New York City.
As moderate as a parade and picnic may appear, the participants performed an impressive act of rebellion by openly declaring their sexuality in the midst of extreme hostility from American society.
As moderate as a parade and picnic may appear, the participants performed an impressive act of rebellion by openly declaring their sexuality in the midst of extreme hostility from American society.
“We told [the police] that we were only indulging our constitutional right of assembly and asked them to dismount and join us in our love, but they wanted to hassle us instead.... The gathering was beautiful and peaceful before the police came, the homophiles gathered in pride in their identity. But if they continue to persecute minorities like ours, we have no choice but armed revolution.”
—Leo Laurence describing the arrival of equestrian officers from the San Francisco Police Department at the June 28 Gay-In that attracted some 200 people to Speedway Meadows in Golden Gate Park. Police detained several of the participants. Source: Berkeley Barb (July 3–July 9, 1970).
—Leo Laurence describing the arrival of equestrian officers from the San Francisco Police Department at the June 28 Gay-In that attracted some 200 people to Speedway Meadows in Golden Gate Park. Police detained several of the participants. Source: Berkeley Barb (July 3–July 9, 1970).
Parade and celebration organizer Leo Laurence (front) and friend, photograph published in the Berkeley Barb, March 28, 1969; Periodicals Collection, GLBT Historical Society.
Initially referred to as the Gay Liberation March, then as Christopher Street West, then as Gay Freedom Day, the celebration deployed both frivolity and protest in hopes of initiating a cultural shift in how society viewed LGBTQ people.
Labor of Love traces the first decade of San Francisco Pride, documenting its evolution from a motley bunch marching down Polk Street in 1970 into a massive cultural institution drawing more than a quarter-million people to Market Street and Civic Center in 1980. Today, a million people or more descend on the city to celebrate every year at the end of June.
Since the small march and picnic that marked the debut of San Francisco Pride 50 years ago, organizers and participants have asked themselves, “Why Pride?”
No formal statement was issued that first year, but one activist made clear the purpose of the “beautiful and peaceful” event: In the face of oppression, “homophiles gathered in pride in their identity.”
No formal statement was issued that first year, but one activist made clear the purpose of the “beautiful and peaceful” event: In the face of oppression, “homophiles gathered in pride in their identity.”
The organizers' statement for the 1972 Christopher Street West celebration, the first large-scale parade in San Francisco, which drew some 2,000 participants and 15,000 spectators.
“SF Gay Pride Week 73 #4 Parade,” video report by the Queer Blue Light Collective, 1973; Daniel A. Smith & Queer Blue Light Videotapes, GLBT Historical Society.
A participant in the 1973 Gay Freedom Day Parade discusses what and who the parade is for and why it matters.
A participant in the 1973 Gay Freedom Day Parade discusses what and who the parade is for and why it matters.
By 1972, an argument had emerged that would remain central throughout the 1970s and up to the present day: LGBTQ people making ourselves visible in great numbers and in our wide diversity promotes self-acceptance, social respect and positive political change.
The organizers’ interpretations of how to demonstrate those goals by guiding an ever-growing Gay Freedom Day Parade and Festival would vary greatly. Individuals and groups joining in as participants or spectators also would bring their own perspectives on the purposes of the event and its effectiveness as a movement tactic.
The organizers’ interpretations of how to demonstrate those goals by guiding an ever-growing Gay Freedom Day Parade and Festival would vary greatly. Individuals and groups joining in as participants or spectators also would bring their own perspectives on the purposes of the event and its effectiveness as a movement tactic.
Circulated for consideration by the 1978 parade committee and membership, the draft statement at left was adopted unchanged for the published program distributed at the event.
Lesbian movement pioneer Del Martin (1921–2008) used these index cards to give her speech from the stage at San Francisco City Hall at the end of the 1978 Gay Freedom Day Parade. Look for her explanation of why the Pride parades matter, how they stand on the LGBTQ movement's inheritance from the Civil Rights Movement and how they reflect the intersectional identities of many LGBTQ people.
“The glory of the parade is that it has grown as it has. It is an exercise of Gay community strength, unity, clout, foolishness, diversity and outrageousness. The parade is the Gay community for all the world to see, and if it doesn’t like what it sees, it can damn well look the other way, because we are beautiful, we are real, and we are not going away!”
—The Rev. Robert Humphries (1934–2002) sums up the value and importance of the Gay Freedom Day Parade 10 years after it was launched. Humphries had helped organize the 1970 and 1971 parades in Los Angeles and had served as committee chair for the 1972 parade in San Francisco.
—The Rev. Robert Humphries (1934–2002) sums up the value and importance of the Gay Freedom Day Parade 10 years after it was launched. Humphries had helped organize the 1970 and 1971 parades in Los Angeles and had served as committee chair for the 1972 parade in San Francisco.
From its ragtag start in 1970 to its monumental completion in 1980, the first decade of San Francisco Pride reflects a spectacular growth in participation, attendance and visibility. With that growth came an extraordinary increase in the amount and complexity of the work required to bring the event together.
From balancing competing political demands to managing an array of logistical details, from raising funds and controlling budgets to ensuring outreach and handling communications, producing an LGBTQ community parade and celebration is no picnic.
Hundreds of individuals volunteered countless hours, weathered frequent criticism, made not a few mistakes, and managed to lay the foundations for San Francisco’s massive annual Pride celebrations of today.
Hundreds of individuals volunteered countless hours, weathered frequent criticism, made not a few mistakes, and managed to lay the foundations for San Francisco’s massive annual Pride celebrations of today.
With an estimated 42,000 people participating in the 1973 Gay Freedom Day Parade as marchers or spectators, planning and carrying out the event required significant work. One visible sign of the volunteer effort: safety monitors directed the contingents to prevent accidents and injuries.
“[Committee chair Steve] Ginsburg said in reference to the parade that ‘about 15 people worked their asses off, half of whom were my friends.’ Although he did much of the parade planning work, Ginsburg said credit should go to his friends.”
—Gerald Hansen, “Color, Joy in San Francisco,” The Advocate (July 18, 1973)
In 1975, an estimated 82,000 people participated in the Gay Freedom Day Parade. Detailed logistics and communications were required to enable the celebration to claim and queer dozens of blocks of crowded urban streets. Organizers distributed photocopies of the typed, collaged and hand-drawn documents seen here to guide marchers and sponsors of floats.
In a 1975 column in the Bay Area Reporter, community leader and camera-store owner Harvey Milk (1930–1978) pointed to two challenges for Gay Freedom Day organizers: promoting the parade through the media and obtaining municipal funding.
By the time Milk became California’s first openly gay elected official as a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1978, mainstream media were increasingly providing advance coverage of the event—and that same year, the Parade Committee obtained its first grant from the city.
By the time Milk became California’s first openly gay elected official as a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1978, mainstream media were increasingly providing advance coverage of the event—and that same year, the Parade Committee obtained its first grant from the city.
“72,000 people watching—10,000 marching. No prior coverage by either of our daily papers. A lot of people just didn’t know about it until after the event. What would have been the size of the crowd if the Chronicle and the Examiner had played it up ahead of time?”
“The Gay Freedom Day Committee should get funds equal in proportion to the turn-out of the other parades. The ‘gay’ oriented hotels should withhold their tax dollars until this happens. The Gay Day Committee should sue if it does not get its fair share.” —Harvey Milk, “Political Views: Milk Forum,” Bay Area Reporter (July 10, 1975)
“The Gay Freedom Day Committee should get funds equal in proportion to the turn-out of the other parades. The ‘gay’ oriented hotels should withhold their tax dollars until this happens. The Gay Day Committee should sue if it does not get its fair share.” —Harvey Milk, “Political Views: Milk Forum,” Bay Area Reporter (July 10, 1975)
Minutes, motions and sign-up lists for planning and outreach meetings at first glance may not look exciting. A more careful line-by-line read reveals the significant goals and the powerful debates that motivated and underlie the organization of the event.
Both the documents and the gatherings reflect the extensive behind-the-scenes work required of committee members and volunteers putting in countless hours to make the parade a reality and to represent the diversity of the community.
Both the documents and the gatherings reflect the extensive behind-the-scenes work required of committee members and volunteers putting in countless hours to make the parade a reality and to represent the diversity of the community.
The work of the Gay Freedom Day parade included making design decisions to communicate the message of Pride and to mark the public space for the event as both festive and political.
One such project was the creation of the rainbow flag by Gilbert Baker (1951-2017) and a group of volunteers. Now an international symbol of LGBTQ community, the flag debuted with two examples flown on the monumental flagpoles at United Nations Plaza on Gay Freedom Day, June 25, 1978.
One such project was the creation of the rainbow flag by Gilbert Baker (1951-2017) and a group of volunteers. Now an international symbol of LGBTQ community, the flag debuted with two examples flown on the monumental flagpoles at United Nations Plaza on Gay Freedom Day, June 25, 1978.
Gay Parade 1978; footage by Crawford Barton, Crawford Barton Papers, GLBT Historical Society. Watch for several shots of the giant rainbow flags flying over United Nations Plaza.
The earliest official records of the Gay Freedom Day Committee date to 1979, so representing the work of the organizers across the first decade is sometimes challenging.
The archives of the GLBT Historical Society preserve artifacts, photographs and historic documents that nonetheless give us a glimpse behind the scenes at the dauntless efforts that were required to keep Pride marching through its first 10 years.
The archives of the GLBT Historical Society preserve artifacts, photographs and historic documents that nonetheless give us a glimpse behind the scenes at the dauntless efforts that were required to keep Pride marching through its first 10 years.
Producing souvenir merchandise emerged across the 1970s as another significant element of the work undertaken by the Gay Freedom Day Committee. Sales of these items raised some funds and but more significantly awareness for the parade.
Perennial favorites: t-shirts and buttons. Wearing them signaled participation in an emblematic public statement of Pride. They also gave wearers a way to declare their belonging to a social group: “I joined thousands of people in the streets of San Francisco to celebrate our community.”
Perennial favorites: t-shirts and buttons. Wearing them signaled participation in an emblematic public statement of Pride. They also gave wearers a way to declare their belonging to a social group: “I joined thousands of people in the streets of San Francisco to celebrate our community.”
Behind the festivities, another aspect of the Gay Freedom Day Parade returned year after year throughout the 1970s: arguments about goals, disagreements on tactics and fights over inclusion and representation. The drama we see today in news coverage and social media about Pride fights has a history as old as the event itself.
Debates about respectability, commercialization, protesting versus partying, and the place of women, drag queens and people of color became inextricably entwined in the implementation of Pride during its first decade. Power struggles, heated exchanges and hurt feelings were perhaps inevitable. The organizers were passionate people navigating their own experiences of trauma and marginalization even as they put together an enormous public gathering that sought to reflect a vastly diverse community.
Debates about respectability, commercialization, protesting versus partying, and the place of women, drag queens and people of color became inextricably entwined in the implementation of Pride during its first decade. Power struggles, heated exchanges and hurt feelings were perhaps inevitable. The organizers were passionate people navigating their own experiences of trauma and marginalization even as they put together an enormous public gathering that sought to reflect a vastly diverse community.
Throughout the 1970s, gay print media showcased photo essays on Gay Freedom Day and Pride events around the country. This one features the beloved Dykes on Bikes, bare-breasted lesbians in Civic Center and throngs marching down Polk Street. The headline that starts on the right page continues on subsequent pages to give a full 1928 quote by early German homosexual-emancipation leader Kurt Hiller: "The liberation of homosexuals can only be the work of homosexuals themselves."
George Mendenhall, the editor of Vector, the magazine of the Society of Individual Rights, published an editorial in 1972 casting doubt on the value and organizational integrity of what he called the “Gay Parade.” In response, a self-proclaimed “Vectorious Truth Committee” pushed back in a satirical flyer accusing him and SIR of spreading “lies.”
George Mendenhall, the editor of Vector, the magazine of the Society of Individual Rights, published an editorial in 1972 casting doubt on the value and organizational integrity of what he called the “Gay Parade.” In response, a self-proclaimed “Vectorious Truth Committee” pushed back in a satirical flyer accusing him and SIR of spreading “lies.”
1972
Emmaus House, a “gay switchboard” and service organization, sued the Christopher Street West Parade Committee for $200 in small claims court, claiming that the proceeds from the year’s event had not been distributed to the city’s gay social-service organizations as promised by the committee.
Emmaus House, a “gay switchboard” and service organization, sued the Christopher Street West Parade Committee for $200 in small claims court, claiming that the proceeds from the year’s event had not been distributed to the city’s gay social-service organizations as promised by the committee.
These fights shed light on the profound importance of Pride as a means of proclaiming and promoting gay liberation.
Spring 1973
Gay Freedom Week chair Steve Ginsburg quashed rumors about an irreparable rift in the Gay Freedom Day organizing committee, whose members asserted that the San Francisco parade would be “the largest and only one in the West.” At the same time, another organization, the Gay Activist Alliance, headed by the Rev. Raymond Broshears, was in fact planning a competing celebration in the Civic Center.
After two years serving as the chair of Gay Freedom Day, Steve Ginsburg had reached his limit serving in this leadership role. Resigning in 1974, he declared that the gay community in San Francisco was “royally and alcoholically fucked.”
Gay Freedom Week chair Steve Ginsburg quashed rumors about an irreparable rift in the Gay Freedom Day organizing committee, whose members asserted that the San Francisco parade would be “the largest and only one in the West.” At the same time, another organization, the Gay Activist Alliance, headed by the Rev. Raymond Broshears, was in fact planning a competing celebration in the Civic Center.
After two years serving as the chair of Gay Freedom Day, Steve Ginsburg had reached his limit serving in this leadership role. Resigning in 1974, he declared that the gay community in San Francisco was “royally and alcoholically fucked.”
June 1974
The San Francisco Gay Liberation Alliance protested the participation of the Imperial Court, a charitable organization of drag performers, in that year’s Gay Freedom Day Parade. GLA decorated a vehicle with representations of “dead” drag royalty, asserting that the Imperial Court was “a poor representation of the gay community and a waste of monies.”
The San Francisco Gay Liberation Alliance protested the participation of the Imperial Court, a charitable organization of drag performers, in that year’s Gay Freedom Day Parade. GLA decorated a vehicle with representations of “dead” drag royalty, asserting that the Imperial Court was “a poor representation of the gay community and a waste of monies.”
1976
A coalition of organizations including the Gay Latino Alliance, Gay American Indians, Bay Black Caucus and Lesbian Action Organization voted a resolution declaring that the Gay Freedom Day Parade had lost sight of the true meaning of the 1969 Stonewall riots.
The resolution characterized Stonewall as a moment during which “Third World Gays, Lesbians, transsexuals, and transvestites rose up as one and shouted ‘I’m here’ to the fascist forces of oppression.”
A coalition of organizations including the Gay Latino Alliance, Gay American Indians, Bay Black Caucus and Lesbian Action Organization voted a resolution declaring that the Gay Freedom Day Parade had lost sight of the true meaning of the 1969 Stonewall riots.
The resolution characterized Stonewall as a moment during which “Third World Gays, Lesbians, transsexuals, and transvestites rose up as one and shouted ‘I’m here’ to the fascist forces of oppression.”
1976
Liane Esstelle, calling herself the “token woman” on the Gay Freedom Day Committee, declared in an open letter to the community that she refused to be pushed around, “not even by a queen.” She accused the committee chair of having “sexist, racist and anti-human attitudes” in this document. Esstelle inscribed a copy of her letter to Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon, two of the cofounders of the lesbian organization the Daughters of Bilitis.
Liane Esstelle, calling herself the “token woman” on the Gay Freedom Day Committee, declared in an open letter to the community that she refused to be pushed around, “not even by a queen.” She accused the committee chair of having “sexist, racist and anti-human attitudes” in this document. Esstelle inscribed a copy of her letter to Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon, two of the cofounders of the lesbian organization the Daughters of Bilitis.
1977
The informal anarchist group Anarchist Flashers protested the Parade Committee’s attempt to ban nudity — but also noted that women whose bodies have been “abused and manipulated” may choose to dress rather than undress. Members declared that “the human body is not the problem” and that sexual repression only distracts us from more pressing issues of imperialism, capitalism, patriarchy and white supremacy.
The informal anarchist group Anarchist Flashers protested the Parade Committee’s attempt to ban nudity — but also noted that women whose bodies have been “abused and manipulated” may choose to dress rather than undress. Members declared that “the human body is not the problem” and that sexual repression only distracts us from more pressing issues of imperialism, capitalism, patriarchy and white supremacy.
1978
The Gay Underground Theater protested the Bay Area Committee Against the Briggs Initiative’s efforts to turn the Gay Freedom Day Parade into a political march and rally. The Committee was working against the Briggs Initiative, a state ballot measure put to the voters in November that would have banned gays and lesbians and their supporters from working in California public schools.
The Gay Underground Theater protested the Bay Area Committee Against the Briggs Initiative’s efforts to turn the Gay Freedom Day Parade into a political march and rally. The Committee was working against the Briggs Initiative, a state ballot measure put to the voters in November that would have banned gays and lesbians and their supporters from working in California public schools.
1979
The satirical flyer on the right opposes the fictional “Larry Rice” of “Gays Opposing Discrimination” (GOD) who urges parade-goers to wear gray business suits so that gay people will “appear as socially acceptable members of the bourgeoisie.” Actual calls for dressing and behaving in conventionally respectable ways at the parade were a recurring phenomenon — and were met with anti-assimilationist responses, such as this example of sublime queer sarcasm.
The satirical flyer on the right opposes the fictional “Larry Rice” of “Gays Opposing Discrimination” (GOD) who urges parade-goers to wear gray business suits so that gay people will “appear as socially acceptable members of the bourgeoisie.” Actual calls for dressing and behaving in conventionally respectable ways at the parade were a recurring phenomenon — and were met with anti-assimilationist responses, such as this example of sublime queer sarcasm.
September 1980
Disgruntled members of the LGBTQ community campaigned against the move of the Pride “corporate board” to eliminate general membership and community involvement in direct decision-making about the Gay Freedom Day and Parade.
A month later, the newly incorporated Lesbian/Gay Parade Committee, pushing for equal representation, replaced the Gay Freedom Day Committee and drafted bylaws to preserve “grassroots control” of the parade.
Disgruntled members of the LGBTQ community campaigned against the move of the Pride “corporate board” to eliminate general membership and community involvement in direct decision-making about the Gay Freedom Day and Parade.
A month later, the newly incorporated Lesbian/Gay Parade Committee, pushing for equal representation, replaced the Gay Freedom Day Committee and drafted bylaws to preserve “grassroots control” of the parade.
1980
During its planning for the 1980 parade, the Gay Freedom Day Committee proposed resolving disputes about who should address the crowd at Civic Center by doing away with all speakers. In response, the Stonewall Coalition of radical activists, women and people of color declared, “We are concerned about the conscious attempt to de-politicize the march, particularly by eliminating the speakers’ program and creating a carnival atmosphere.” The coalition’s flyer calling for a protest at the committee meeting featured a photo of Harvey Milk with his mouth taped shut.
During its planning for the 1980 parade, the Gay Freedom Day Committee proposed resolving disputes about who should address the crowd at Civic Center by doing away with all speakers. In response, the Stonewall Coalition of radical activists, women and people of color declared, “We are concerned about the conscious attempt to de-politicize the march, particularly by eliminating the speakers’ program and creating a carnival atmosphere.” The coalition’s flyer calling for a protest at the committee meeting featured a photo of Harvey Milk with his mouth taped shut.
Committee leaders, members and volunteers stepped up to the challenge knowing full well that getting involved meant facing criticism.
What remains remarkable is how, even as it endured perennial dangers of internal division and external attack, Gay Freedom Day continued to grow into the huge event that we know as San Francisco Pride today.
“The Gay Life” was a public-affairs radio show on KSAN-FM from the mid-1970s to 1984. These three audio excerpts from 1978, 1979 and 1981 detail various disagreements within the organizing committee of Gay Freedom Day during these years.
1. Interview with Paul Hardman, hosted by Larry Lee and Greg Caron, May 2, 1978.
2. Interviews with Sue Davis and Robert “Smitty” Smith, hosted by Randy Alfred, February 11, 1979.
3. MC Robin Tyler and speaker Barbara Cameron at 1981 Gay Freedom Day Celebration in Civic Center, aired on July 5, 1981.
2. Interviews with Sue Davis and Robert “Smitty” Smith, hosted by Randy Alfred, February 11, 1979.
3. MC Robin Tyler and speaker Barbara Cameron at 1981 Gay Freedom Day Celebration in Civic Center, aired on July 5, 1981.
Across the 1970s, a spectrum of people coalesced at the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade and Festival into what would later become known as the LGBTQ community.
From the early years, individuals and groups used Gay Freedom Day to express sameness and difference. To do this, they crafted signs, unfurled banners, recruited contingents, drafted speeches, constructed floats, detailed motorcycles, sewed sequins and donned outfits—or stripped down.
From the early years, individuals and groups used Gay Freedom Day to express sameness and difference. To do this, they crafted signs, unfurled banners, recruited contingents, drafted speeches, constructed floats, detailed motorcycles, sewed sequins and donned outfits—or stripped down.
“SF Gay Pride Week 73 #4 Parade,” video report by the Queer Blue Light Collective, 1973; Daniel A. Smith & Queer Blue Light
Videotapes, GLBT Historical Society.
Throughout the years, political, cultural, racial, gendered, sexual and economic differences often frustrated efforts at unity, solidarity and coalition.
Despite the challenges, Gay Freedom Day sought to gather everyone into collective identity, visibility, pride and political empowerment, asserting that—as the 1976 celebration’s theme would attest—“Our Diversity Is Our Strength.”
Women canvassed the community to garner lesbian visibility and attention to lesbian feminist political priorities at the 1975 Gay Freedom Day Parade.
At the 1978 parade, many marched to support educators against the Briggs Initiative, a ballot measure that sought to ban lesbian, gay and bisexual people from working in California public schools. Such grassroots activism around the state led to its defeat.
Some used the parade to garner support for gays, lesbians, and bisexuals seeking to remain in faith communities. In early 1973, Steve Ginsburg, the chairman of Achvah, the self-described “first gay Jewish group in the USA,” wrote an open letter to the Jewish community. The letter boasted of the San Francisco Chronicle’s coverage of the “Jewish Gay Liberation” contingent in the 1972 parade and called on faith leaders to embrace dialogue with Achvah. In 1973, Ginsburg chaired the Gay Freedom Day Parade committee.
Quoting from the San Francisco Chronicle, June 26, 1972, "Their Jewish Gay Liberation contingent carried signs proclaiming 'Chutzpah' (gutsiness) and sang a Hebrew folk song, 'Have Nagilah.'"
Quoting from the San Francisco Chronicle, June 26, 1972, "Their Jewish Gay Liberation contingent carried signs proclaiming 'Chutzpah' (gutsiness) and sang a Hebrew folk song, 'Have Nagilah.'"
Bursting out every June as the annual reunion of one big gay, dysfunctional family, Gay Freedom Day showcased fierce, funky and fun ways of belonging in the world.
Coming together in this way presented a dazzling alternative to the straight and cisgender social order.
![Marcher holding a sign that reads “Marajuana [sic] Is God’s Gift. So Are Breasts,” Gay Freedom Day Parade, 1978; photograph by Robert Pruzan, Robert Pruzan Collection (1998-36), GLBT Historical Society.](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5b53b13285ede173115cb784/1591836904242-VNE0TSV47M8AANMEYTLI/breasts.png)
San Francisco Pride has become an enduring aspect of the political, economic and social landscape of the city and the world.
Looking back at its birth and early growth reminds us that Pride isn’t a given. It emerged from a constantly shifting mix of hope, struggle and celebration.
Those forces remain central today. The echoes of history sound across contemporary debates about the role in Pride of police, government, commerce and activism.
Many of the forces that emerged in the first 10 years have continued to shape Pride:
The insistence on LGBTQ visibility and social belonging.
The hard work and devotion of organizers and volunteers.
The debates about the purposes and particulars of the event.
The joys and pains of coming together with our diverse and intersectional communities, friends and families.
Today, San Francisco Pride may appear institutional and inevitable: a convergence of organizations, elected officials, corporations and individuals into a massive civic event and public party. In what ways do you think the event has become a means for advocating positive social change?
Many of the forces that emerged in the first 10 years have continued to shape Pride:
Today, San Francisco Pride may appear institutional and inevitable: a convergence of organizations, elected officials, corporations and individuals into a massive civic event and public party. In what ways do you think the event has become a means for advocating positive social change?
Considering the turbulent first decade of this complex annual gathering, and how for the first time in its 50 year history, San Francisco Pride was canceled in 2020 in response to the coronavirus pandemic:
• How do you think Pride’s main objective of making “Gay Freedom” a reality for all is carried forward today?
• What do you want SF Pride to look like in the future?
• What do you want SF Pride to look like in the future?
Gerard Koskovich is a San Francisco public historian and rare book dealer. A founding member of the GLBT Historical Society, he has been active in the movement to create LGBTQ archives and museums for nearly four decades and has curated numerous exhibitions. Koskovich has presented widely, including talks at the Ecole du Louvre, Kyoto University and Oxford University, and has published extensively in English and French. Most recently he has focused on the work of Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld (1868–1935); the history of queer history in the United States; and LGBTQ place-based history.
Don Romesburg is professor of women's and gender studies at Sonoma State University and a co-founder of the GLBT Historical Society Museum. He is editor of the Routledge History of Queer America (2018) and has published queer takes on public history, histories of adolescence, sex work, transracial adoption and queer/trans performers. He was the lead scholar working to bring LGBTQ content into California's K–12 History-Social Science Framework and textbooks and now trains educators on implementation. For these efforts, he is the namesake of the Committee on LGBT History’s Don Romesburg Prize for K–12 Curriculum.
Amy Sueyoshi is dean of the College of Ethnic Studies at San Francisco State University. A historian by training, her research lies at the intersection of Asian American studies and sexuality studies. She has authored two books: Queer Compulsions: Race, Nation, and Sexuality in the Affairs of Yone Noguchi (2012) and Discriminating Sex: White Leisure and the Making of the American “Oriental” (2018). Sueyoshi is a founding co-curator of the GLBT Historical Society Museum and served as co-chair of the inaugural Queer History Conference 2019 hosted by the Committee on LGBT History.
The GLBT Historical Society is grateful to the following for lending materials for the exhibition: Ken Hamai and Daniel Nicoletta.
The curators wish to thank the following for their assistance with research for the exhibition: Blackberri, Paul Gabriel, Carly King, John Raines and Marc Stein. And thanks especially to all the people who created, fought over, resisted and demanded more out of Gay Freedom Day in its first decade. Their efforts made a priceless contribution to our community's legacy of struggle, celebration, strength and resilience.
This exhibition is made possible in part by First Republic Bank. Additional support for Labor of Love: The Birth of San Francisco Pride 1970–1980 is provided by San Francisco Pride.
The curators wish to thank the following for their assistance with research for the exhibition: Blackberri, Paul Gabriel, Carly King, John Raines and Marc Stein. And thanks especially to all the people who created, fought over, resisted and demanded more out of Gay Freedom Day in its first decade. Their efforts made a priceless contribution to our community's legacy of struggle, celebration, strength and resilience.
This exhibition is made possible in part by First Republic Bank. Additional support for Labor of Love: The Birth of San Francisco Pride 1970–1980 is provided by San Francisco Pride.
Nalini Elias, Director of Exhibitions and Museum Experience, Website Design
Leigh Pfeffer, Manager of Museum Experience, Public Programs
Jeff Raby, Graphic Design, Creatis Group, Inc.
Mark Sawchuk, Ph.D., Communications Manager, Editor
Ramón Silvestre, Ph.D., Museum Registrar and Curatorial Specialist
Contact, GLBT Historical Society
Leigh Pfeffer, Manager of Museum Experience, Public Programs
Jeff Raby, Graphic Design, Creatis Group, Inc.
Mark Sawchuk, Ph.D., Communications Manager, Editor
Ramón Silvestre, Ph.D., Museum Registrar and Curatorial Specialist
Contact, GLBT Historical Society
Copyright © 2020 The GLBT Historical Society; all rights reserved.
The contents of this exhibition may not be reproduced in whole or part without written permission.
