I did a good bit of traveling in early June. Only in mid-month did I settle back into my regular routines, walking to work through midtown Manhattan with my miniature dachshund, Mabel. As I traversed the avenues, I noticed a striking fact: Pride flags are conspicuously absent. Yes, a large Pride flag flutters in front of St. Bartholomew’s Episcopal Church on Park Avenue. There’s a clutch of them at Rockefeller Center, and small flags hang in the windows of a few businesses here and there. But compared to recent years, the city manifests few outward signs that Pride Month is in full swing.
What accounts for the disappearance of the banner of the Rainbow Reich? Matthew Schmitz offers his answer in this issue (“The Fall of Pride”). I have some thoughts as well.
A simple answer is success. We’re talking about New York City, and perhaps the rainbow gauleiters have taken yes for an answer. LGBTQ and the rest of the alphabet soup is so thoroughly established that it’s easy to take the rainbow agenda for granted and just get on with life. I can imagine an exchange in the West Village. “Hey, you going to the Pride Parade this weekend?” “Oh, jeez, forgot it was Pride Month. Can’t join you. I’ve already made plans for a session at Soul Cycle that afternoon.”
