In 1974, a group of people — the number is not clear; reports ranged from a few dozen to a couple hundred — marched along downtown San Diego sidewalks, calling for gay rights.
The next year, the group grew to 400.
In the decades that followed, as the LGBTQ+ community confronted the tragedy of AIDS and celebrated the legalization of same-sex marriage, crowds at San Diego Pride continued to grow. And grow and grow and grow. Organizers have said about a quarter-million people attend what has become the city’s biggest annual event.
On Saturday, 50 years since that sidewalk march, tens of thousands of revelers danced, hugged and celebrated as the San Diego Pride Parade filled the streets from Hillcrest to downtown.
People — buzzing, gleeful and energized by music, laughter and cheers — wrapped themselves in rainbows, and even pet dogs boasted technicolor coats. Marchers and floats now come from factions unfathomable 50 years ago — police, politicians, even the military.
This year’s San Diego Pride theme is Making History Now. The idea is to look back, look at now and look forward, said Jen LaBarbera, interim co-executive director of San Diego Pride, who uses they/them pronouns.
The organization wants to acknowledge all the community has accomplished, and then build on it.
“We are all still making history as we go,” they said.
Election-year political rhetoric “makes it so much more important” to both gather “for our joy” and to use the festival “as a jumping off point to keep fighting for our liberation,” they said.
Over the last several years, states have advanced a record number of bills that impact LGBTQ+ rights, especially those of transgender youths. The ACLU is currently tracking nearly 530 bills across the country that the organization says “cause harm for LGBTQ people.”
“What I love about Pride is that it gets to be both — the protests and really raucous celebration of joy,” LaBarbera said.
San Diego Pride covers a few days, including a rally to note the spirit of Stonewall and a festival with entertainment, and of course the very popular parade.
Some of Saturday’s floats were multi-level, extravagant affairs, topped with dancing drag queens and DJs blasting dance music. Others were plastered with the faces of some of the LGBTQ+ community’s most revered advocates, such as Marsha P. Johnson and Harvey Milk.
Organizations across the city participated, including the San Diego Police Department. Some officers marched in uniform, while others wore Pride-themed shirts and waved from a department boat towed as a float.
“For some, the uniform and the badge can bring back memories of bad experiences,” San Diego Police Chief Scott Wahl said of the more casual clothing. “We understand that. …This is about trying to listen to what people’s concerns are and really show the human side of our organization.”
Saturday’s parade participants included Mayor Todd Gloria — the city’s first openly gay mayor — who said he attended his first Pride parade about 30 years ago.
“When I was first here, I was a bit timid. It was like dipping my toes into the water,” Gloria recalled. “I’ve evolved with this parade, and that’s why it’s so special to me.”
Gloria noted that San Diego is home to the second-oldest and third-largest LGBTQ+ community centers in the nation. This month, the city is expected to vote for an LGBTQ+ Cultural District in Hillcrest to preserve the historic monuments and memorials San Diegans marched through all Saturday.
“What I think is the common denominator across all of our (Pride parades) is a celebration of what we’ve accomplished and a recommitment to what more we must do,” Gloria said. “That’s what this weekend is about. We want to celebrate, but we also want to mobilize and recommit.”
Despite advances, struggles remain. According to statistics released in March, reported hate crimes in San Diego jumped from 38 in 2022 to 66 in 2023. Although most incidents were racially motivated, 21 incidents, or about 30 percent, stemmed from bias against someone’s sexual orientation.
That’s a fivefold increase when compared to the four incidents that were motivated by sexual orientation in 2022.
This year’s Community Grand Marshal was “LGBTQIA+ & Allied Educators and Library Workers.” LaBarbera said that is to recognize that one of the current fights “is on the freedom of access to information, freedom to be your whole self at school.”
“These librarians and library workers are holding this really important public page where LGBTQ folks of all ages can go and find information about ourselves,” they said.
For attendees DeShawn Barrett and Brian Wiemhoff, Pride celebrations are more than tradition — they’re a family affair. Decades ago, the pair’s uncle, Henry Wiemhoff, famously helped start Chicago’s first Pride march. He would later die during the AIDS epidemic, and celebrating Pride helps keep his legacy alive, the couple said. It also builds on the work he and fellow activists started.
“There are a lot of folks that don’t have what we have, who aren’t able to celebrate or be as visible as we are,” Barrett said. “So we have to speak up for them.”
And with all that revelry, it takes a lot to be a standout at a crowded, colorful and joyous Pride parade. The lead-off group included a legion of motorcycles with a rather magical steel steed: an electric scooter designed to look like a unicorn, replete with a long, rainbow-colored mane and glittering rainbow horn.
They call it Big Booty Judy.
Owner Tanya Trujillo has been riding the scooter in Pride parades for nearly a decade. “I just love being able to see over the years how out community has grown,” she said. “I love how this community comes together.”
Staff writer Lyndsay Winkley contributed to this report.
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