Meet Patti Rice, interim president of PFLAG Pittsburgh, the local chapter of the largest national nonprofit dedicated to supporting, educating and advocating for LGBTQ+ people and those who love them. This is the third PFLAG chapter she’s been a part of, and she first found PFLAG in Birmingham, Alabama.
Joining a pro-LGBTQ group in Alabama sounds rough. But Patti, originally from the Johnstown, Pa., area, points out that Birmingham is progressive, “and getting even more so,” she says. “Which makes me proud.”
When her son Gavin came out at 16, Patti was more than supportive. “I was ecstatic. It made his whole life make sense,” she says. Her only concern was his safety.
“I was fearful, because although we lived in a progressive city, that doesn’t mean that everybody, even in our neighborhood, was. He had a Big Gulp thrown at him and a friend while they were walking.” Her son is white, his friend is Black, and the bigots assumed that they were a couple, yelling vile racist and homophobic slurs at the kids right in their own neighborhood.
But mostly, her son was safe and thrived in his environment. He came out to his sister first, which brought them closer. Over time, their house became known as “the Safe Gavin” — a play on “safe haven.” His queer friends and allies knew they were always welcome, whether for a meal, to hang out, or to spend the night.
When Gavin headed to college in Cleveland, Patti joined her second PFLAG chapter in his new city. “It was wonderful for me, as a mom, sending my child from Birmingham to Cleveland, knowing that there was a PFLAG family there,” she says. “Like if he got sick and needed some chicken soup, or any support that he needed.”
Pittsburgh’s PFLAG Family
Patti’s been in Pittsburgh for five years now and recently took on the interim president role. PFLAG Pittsburgh runs support meetings twice a month. One is in person and one is on Zoom, because, as Patti notes, not everyone can drive an hour each way for a two-hour meeting and turn around and do it again. When the turnout calls for it, they break into smaller groups. Parents in one room, grandparents in another. The grandparents have been a particular bright spot for her.
PFLAG Pittsburgh runs on three pillars: support, education, and advocacy. Most people know them for their support meetings, but education is woven through everything they do, whether it’s tabling at Pride, speaking engagements, or showing up at a queer hockey night. They also show up at the Warhol Prom — a queer prom held during Pride season — tabling right alongside Hugh Lane Wellness Foundation, which handles youth programming.
Once, a lesbian couple walked up to the PFLAG table, and one of them pointed at the materials and said to the other, “Your mom needs this.”
“We can’t be all things to all people,” Patti says, although they sure come close. And if they can’t help, they point people toward those who can, whether PFLAG National’s online resources or local organizations.
One of PFLAG Pittsburgh’s goals this year is to deepen its connections with organizations fighting for queer rights, especially on protecting our trans and nonbinary communities, who are under constant attack on almost every level. “We don’t need to reinvent the wheel when there are people that are better at advocacy than we are,” Patti says. PFLAG’s job is to make sure its members know where to show up.
Outgoing PFLAG President of six years, Dave West, knows that feeling firsthand. When Dave’s son came out as transgender, he and his wife didn’t know what to do. Someone at the hospital pointed them to PFLAG. “I looked up and realized I was not walking alone,” he said on The QBurgh Podcast. “And immediately I knew that this was going to be OK.” He went on to become one of Pittsburgh’s most visible trans allies, writing a fiery op-ed defending then-Pennsylvania Secretary of Health Dr. Rachel Levine when she faced public mockery and threats. “As the father of a son who is, among many other things, transgender, I am furious,” he wrote. “It must stop.”
Meeting People Where They Are
People often find PFLAG when they’re in a dark place. A child just came out and they don’t understand it. Or they grew up evangelical and can’t believe a loving God would harm their child, and need to be around others who agree. They sometimes show up to that first meeting barely able to talk, and when they do talk, they cry. PFLAG always has tissues. “That’s how we meet people where they are,” Patti says. “Coming to PFLAG is the first right step.”
Dave saw it happen over and over during his six years leading the chapter as well. “You can see it on parents’ faces,” he said on The QBurgh Podcast, “the relief coming over them. They realize it’s a resource they have to utilize to be supportive.”
Another PFLAG Pittsburgh program Patti wants everyone to know about is its rainbow fund for community requests and the Dr. George G. West, II Memorial Scholarship — named for Dave’s family — for anyone pursuing education after high school, “whether it’s a two-year or four-year college, trade school, or certificate program.”
Patti urges everyone who is part of the queer community or cares about someone who is to join, even if they never come to a meeting. Membership helps PFLAG reach more people, show up in more places, and ultimately save more lives. “Become a member, because you never know when someone in your circle of love is going to come out,” she says.