My friends and I created the Pride you celebrate today back in 1970. When those of us who are still here gather and talk about that first march, we all agree on one thing: what Pride has become surpasses anything we could possibly have imagined on the morning of that first Pride.
Today, historians often describe it simply as a protest. It was far more than that. It was a declaration, a confrontation, and the beginning of a revolution. The meaning of what we did and how it changed the world have too often been lost.
One year earlier, at Stonewall, many of us fought back against the police for the first time. I often say, “For years, the police incarcerated us. That night, for the first time in history, we incarcerated them.”
Until Stonewall, the police ruled Christopher Street. They harassed us nightly in our own neighborhood. Their message was simple: You people are not allowed to gather. You are not allowed to be visible. You are not allowed to exist together.
At Stonewall, we answered them. We told them we were taking back our street.
The battle between the police and the newly formed Gay Liberation Front continued throughout that year. We leafleted on the streets night after night. When police attempted to stop us, we refused to move. We came prepared. We had lawyers. We knew our rights.
I still remember telling police officers, “I have a First Amendment right. If you want to arrest me, I’m ready.”
Others would suddenly appear beside us, and together we would shout, “Out of the closets and into the streets!”
Sometimes the police walked away. Sometimes they drove away. But little by little, something extraordinary happened. By the end of that year, Christopher Street belonged to the community that lived there. We had stood up to the police, and for the first time, they backed down.
Now it was time to make that statement to all of New York City.
We decided to march.
We wanted the city to see us — not hidden in bars, not meeting in secret, but walking openly across town, chanting, singing and proclaiming that we were here, that we were proud, and that we would no longer disappear.
Those of us serving as marshals even took self-defense classes. because we had no idea what awaited us. The city initially refused to give us a permit. We answered that we would march with or without one.
We did not know how many people would join us.
We did not know whether crowds would attack us.
We did not know whether the police would stop us.
We did not know if we would succeed.
What we did not realize at the time was that we were brave.
And we were changing the world.
Today Pride is celebrated in more than 100 countries around the globe. Tens of millions of people march, celebrate, protest and affirm who they are. Entire cities are transformed by rainbow flags. Families march together. Governments recognize Pride. Young people can see themselves reflected in the world around them.
Not one of us on that first march could have imagined any of it.
If you think back to the first Pride you attended — the excitement, the emotion, the realization that you were not alone — you may come close to understanding how we felt.
We began with a few hundred and within a few blocks, we were thousands of people walking down 6th Avenue, uncertain whether the world would accept us.
Today, millions walk beside us.
What began as an act of courage became a movement. What began as resistance became celebration. What began on Christopher Street became a worldwide declaration that LGBTQ+ people belong.
Thank you for making our dream a reality.
Originally published by our partners at the Philadelphia Gay News on June 23, 2026.