Proud Protest

This year, Amsterdam’s already-huge Pride events were bolstered by hosting WorldPride. The biggest event of pride is always the boat parade, and on Saturday we benefited from amazing weather. For 13 years, we’d wanted to be on one of the boats, and this year some friends were able to secure places for us.

A few boats are highly produced spectacles; most (especially those decked with corporate sponsor branding) are fabulous parties. I always assumed we’d find our way onto one of the most boring ones. But, no; our friends brought us onboard the We Are Family boat, which has been participating since the first pride parade in 1996 and always promises “a crowd‑focused spectacle”.

This is real performance and we had to set up costumes (mine was a sequined dress and pixie-cut pink wig) and attend rehearsals to practice the choreography.1 This year’s theme, Same Love Same Rights, celebrated 25 years of legal same-sex marriage in the Netherlands while also protesting the too-common denial of those rights around the world. We were all dressed “gay wedding”, which meant most of us were brides and nearly everyone looked the part of a drag queen. (Finally, a reason for me to wear Mardi Gras pearls.)

The show ran for a bit less than 4 minutes. We started with the requisite We Are Family by Sister Sledge with simple moves, followed by Bruno Mars’s Marry You with a more theatrical dance, and then the drama began. We rather abruptly “shut down” the dance and, in a wave, raised large black “SAME LOVE SAME RIGHTS” banners while holding up signs with red crosses through the names of countries that deny marriage rights.

We performed this well over 100 times, so of course there was some variation in the intensity of crowd reaction. But the basics were consistent: the cheering and signing quieted with a sort of “what’s happening” confusion. Then the noise returned but of a very different sort, as solidarity cheers and applause. So often the collective emotion was so strong it brought tears to my eyes.

We then lowered the signs and banners and resumed dancing, but with powerful moves and to the voice of Sia signing in David Guetta’s Titanium. The crowds exploded for this! I will never again hear these songs without reliving this ride.

After riding in the Krewe of Freret’s Mardi Gras parade 7 times (including as king), it’s natural to compare the experiences. Rolling through the streets of New Orleans obviously has a different vibe than floating through the canals of Amsterdam. And the crowds are culturally distinct; Pride is more integrated, more adult, and the relationship between rider and spectator differs. No one is hoping a boat rider will throw them a gift, but everyone does appreciate that we’re performing.

In both cases, though, the way an entire city seems to come together and bathe in positive energy is amazing. “On the route” I enjoy being an active part of a collective uplifting. And, most distinctly among my life experiences, I feel unconditionally included. I don’t have many memories of feeling safe and beyond judgement; it’s funny that the recent experiences I have with this social warmth are centered on parades.

It might be strange that a straight white guy from America found belonging in a community with deep Amsterdam queer legacy, but here we are. Dancing with them on the huge street stage at Prik afterwards, I was full of pride for this family.