Supporting Their Vital Work for a More Inclusive Community
I met Kai (name imagined) standing in the shadows of a shop doorway as the massive Pride Flag passed, held and transported by hundreds of locals dressed in colourful attire suitable for a rainbow parade.
The local Brass band led the way, followed by walkers in glorious costumes and angel wings, then the White Pride Convertible blasting out music and the glorious spectacle of the vast Pride flag carried by hundreds of local people. We were headed to the riverside on a fiercely sunny day.
I was tasking myself to look out for those who needed a little encouragement to join in. I saw Kai in their doorway, gave a nod and indicated a space where they could hold the flag; after a moment’s hesitation, a smile broke out, and they were part of the parade and no longer observers.
Their costume was simple but striking. All black apart from a rainbow-coloured tutu. I was aware of their quiet presence for the next six hours as I manned the Penguin Soup stall at the festival, and they enjoyed being part of a joyous family-orientated party on the grass.
I know nothing about Kai — a young teenager attending on their own and very absorbed and happy with their own company. I could only guess at their gender, and at an event like this, I do not need to know anything unless they want to share.
The Penguin Soup stall is a mental health support hub at each Pride Festival. We have a board signposting mental health and support services geared towards the LGBTQ+ community. A table is set up for people to draw, create, and talk together. Part of the stall is a sensory area with fairy lights and fidget toys if people feel the need for a bit of quiet space. I often man it (I must find a better way of saying that) alongside other volunteers, creating a little haven amongst the noise of bands and acts taking to the stage.
Kai found the stall and dived into drawing and creating with others at the table. Then we started the bubble machine.
It’s a battery-driven machine that pumps out clouds of bubbles. It always attracts children to jump and leap, trying to catch the bubbles. Kai’s face lit up, and they were straight into the clouds, but not trying to catch them, just dancing. Enjoying the sensory effect of hundreds of bubbles touching their skin.
Kai continued dancing in a blissed-out state for almost two hours, stopping only to ask us to refill the bubble reservoir or replace the batteries.
That image has stuck with me, and I created the title illustration to capture that rapture. This all occurred amongst diverse family groups enjoying picnics, brilliant sunshine and a steady stream of family-friendly acts.
I cannot imagine another environment where young people exploring their gender identity or sexuality would feel free to be themselves without fear of judgment or ridicule. Kai had an afternoon where they weren’t odd or weird. They were a young person having fun and feeling comfortable in their own skin.
The Cornwall Pride team have created this extraordinary atmosphere focusing on the acceptance and inclusion of everyone, no matter how they define or express themselves. Families feel safe, teenagers feel safe, and older people who have probably come through many uncomfortable and dangerous situations in their lifetime are now beginning to feel safe, expressing themselves fully and publicly.
Having written the paragraph above, I began reflecting on the magic element for me at these events. To all intents and purposes, I am a heterosexual older man who feels very comfortable with members of the LGBTQ+ community. I am a counsellor and have a range of queer clients on my books, past and present, old and young. I feel like part of the tribe, and that is enough for me to want to seek out their company.
In my twenties, I lived in South London and had the great honour of attending the same Labour Party meetings as Peter Tatchell, one of the organisers of the first UK Pride in 1972. I have never forgotten that energy and my feeling of affinity with him. Perhaps that is coming to the surface for me now.
Finding and accepting my authentic self.
The other connection I make is around my training as a counsellor and the self-awareness journey I have been on and am witnessing others embark on daily.
The therapeutic journey can be summed up as the discovery of your authentic, true self, accepting all parts of yourself and giving full expression to them.
Many in the Pride movement would feel aligned with that idea, I imagine.
Cornwall Pride arrange events across the county, and the benefits are enormous. I imagine the many young people like Kai who spend a day feeling part of a tribe rather than an outsider. Who looks up at a Pride flag flying on a public building and says to themselves
“Oh, it’s okay to be me!”
Please support them in any way you can.
For confidential counselling around any of the issues raised in this article, read more here.