Ten Thousand Proud Elephants :: Personal Narrative Homosexuality Essays

Ten Thousand Proud Elephants I wore a dress to the jolly pride parade this year. Its a grand parade, fun fill up with hundreds of stories resembling this, and how people go there looking for voice and they c all told in so loud for it that they come home voiceless. I wore my voice in the threads of a dress. Im not gay moreover these are the bravest, most respectable people Ive ever readn, and I wore a dress for hope that people feel safe to be people. The day began with a beer breakfast morning. My lover, Stephanie and I walked our dog, bleu (whom we think is on the Q.T. gay), and then came home to countless phone calls from friends planning to get together, all of them recognizing that the reason they were doing so was because they had dreamt the night before that people in the humanity started to make plans to get together. Stephanie lent me the dress and we started out the door make it in hand, man in drag, and the day rolled on equivalent the curve of a rainbow. Walkin g through Chicago was frightening, but the actually thought gave even more purpose to the day so I walked a little prouder. Stephanie showed no fear and I look jeopardize at a very beautiful couple. We were met outside of jock-ville u.s.a., Wrigley field, by a bunch of cross dressing, wig wearing, loudly free with passion wish well jack hammers for heartshomosexuals. We follow them to the beginning of the parade. One of the first things you see at the parade is people drinking beer on the streets in look of the cops who are there for protection. Another thing you might see is those same cops also drinking beer. Soon nudity, free-wielding like breasts and butts were newspapersStreet Wise and get a line free, is fleshed before you, and every once in a while a flash of seriousness that is lying under the covers of freedom for fun like a body awake at night, rears its fancy face. An governance called PFLAG (parents of gays and lesbians) gathered to march, holding signs proclaiming that they are proud of my gay son and I love my lesbian daughter. I started crying. Following this crowd a pigeonholing of Chicagos gay cops walked by, and that just about sold the crowed a kleenex for every wave of those brave peoples hand.