The rainbow disconnection: how corporations exploit Pride Month – theday.com
Pride Month is one of my favorite times of the year. Although I would prefer if people appreciated the LGBTQ+ community with equal enthusiasm year-round, I adore seeing openly out, closeted, and questioning people celebrate who we are and the community’s rich history.
As a young lesbian, I love to witness the symbols that define this month of open appreciation for LGBTQ+ people and social progress. There are rainbow crosswalks, merchandise, and a plethora of people sharing their beautiful stories and faces on social media. Then, of course, there are the Pride parades, where I’m comforted by allies that elevate and support our freedom to love who we love and express who we are.
But in the midst of celebration, it is easy for our heterosexual peers — even allies — to be blinded by shallow displays of rainbows and LGBTQ+ emblems that undermine the historical feats we take pride in. To corporations, June is the time to profit off LGBTQ+ icons, consequently minimizing what makes Pride the riotous event it originally was. Block parties and Google Doodles make Pride more digestible for straight people without having to consider the movement’s radical origins.
Pride began as a protest. On the morning of June 28, 1969, the LGBT-owned Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village was raided by police. In response to this unfounded attack, the LGBTQ+ individuals protested and rioted until July 3, when police were staved off. Multiple activist groups, such as GLAAD (The Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) were born in the wake of Stonewall. Unfortunately, Stonewall is reduced to “the beginning of Pride” by most outside the community, and those who risked everything to combat persecution are ignored in favor of fashion trends and social media “wokeness.”
We owe the rights we’ve worked so tirelessly to preserve to our predecessors — especially Black and Hispanic transgender people — many of whom are credited with founding spaces that devote themselves to the battle against homophobia. But when perusing the seasonal Target Pride, you likely won’t find any substantial merchandise dedicated to activist history. You’ll certainly come across plenty of rainbows, and perhaps other catchphrases that vaguely hint towards homosexuality (such as, “Love is love,” or simply “Pride”), but you’re unlikely to encounter slogans that discuss HIV/AIDS prevention or campaigns to end conversion therapy.
Why do corporations like Target avoid realistic depictions of Pride? The answer has been obvious to us LGBTQ+ folk for quite some time; these companies don’t actually care about us. The supposed support of marginalized individuals is a cash grab disguised as representation. Think of Valentine’s Day, Christmas, Hanukkah, and nearly all other major holidays; they are more so industries than holidays, and now Pride and Black History Month are being indoctrinated into the corporate agenda.
It’s frankly disgusting. LGBTQ+ history had little opportunity for celebration and was realistically plagued by hatred, death, and oppression. Corporate rebranding of Pride to cater to straight people and the more “acceptable” members of the community (like white gay men and cisgender people) distorts the true purpose of this month and excludes individuals that receive comparatively little appreciation from society. People who are racialized and identify as LGBTQ+ are principally impacted by this ignorance; as Black transgender women are being murdered at an unbelievable rate,capitalism diverts attention away from these tragedies during prime time to counter normative heterosexuality.
Pride is not a gateway to corporate prosperity. It’s a single word and month that embraces and honors the past, present, and future of the LGBTQ+ community. Decades of loved ones lost, protests organized, rights confiscated and later repossessed, perpetually shadows celebration. Capitalism has objectified our identities and exploited our expression. Pride is not a fad revised to appeal to heteronormative (and market) values. Rather than contributing to a corporation, consider obtaining your Pride merchandise from LGBTQ+ and POC-owned businesses that truly value their customers and community.
Sarah Sylvester is a senior-to-be at McGill University and a resident of East Lyme. She is an intern for The Day’s editorial page. A version of this column first appered in The Bull & Bear McGill news magazine.