Tag: queer visibility

Participants march in the 53rd annual Chicago Pride Parade on June 30, 2024, in Chicago, Illinois. (Photo by KAMIL KRZACZYNSKI / AFP) (Photo by KAMIL KRZACZYNSKI/AFP via Getty Images)

The Chicago Pride Parade has undergone a dramatic transformation since its early days, shifting from a jubilant, sexually expressive act of defiance into a carefully curated and often sanitized celebration. What was once a radical protest against heteronormativity and state control has become, in many ways, a corporatized festival designed for comfort rather than confrontation. I witnessed this difference firsthand. In 1996, I marched in the Chicago Pride Parade representing Northern Illinois University’s LGBTQ student group. We carried signs demanding queer liberation, chanted with raised fists, and celebrated our bodies and desires publicly, unapologetically. That experience was one of joy, solidarity, and sexual freedom—a moment when Pride was still very much about disrupting societal norms, not being absorbed into them.

Back then, Pride was deeply rooted in the spirit of the Stonewall Riots, which were themselves an uprising against police brutality and sexual repression. The early parades were messy, loud, and intentionally provocative. The presence of leather dykes, drag queens, trans sex workers, and bare-chested men wasn’t seen as a liability to be managed but as a central part of the protest. The parade was a place where queer people could publicly celebrate their sexualities, assert their right to pleasure, and reject the shame imposed by religious institutions, the state, and the medical establishment. As Gayle Rubin (1984) argues in Thinking Sex, sexuality is a frequent site of oppression, and its liberation is integral to broader social justice.

In recent decades, however, the increasing influence of corporate sponsorship and political interests has dulled the parade’s revolutionary edge. Corporate logos now dominate floats where once activists had marched. Politicians use the parade for photo opportunities rather than advocacy. In 2017, members of Black Lives Matter were briefly detained for disrupting the Chicago parade to protest police presence—an incident that underscores how the parade now often serves authority rather than challenges it (Bridges, 2017). These developments reflect a broader trend in which the politics of Pride have been defanged in order to be palatable to mainstream audiences.

As corporate sponsors and city officials pushed to make Pride “family-friendly,” explicit expressions of sexuality became increasingly discouraged. Kink communities, once a visible part of the parade, have been pressured to tone down their presence. Nude or partially clothed participants are often now treated as potential public relations liabilities rather than as rightful members of the LGBTQ spectrum. This retreat from sexual expression is not benign. It represents a fundamental misunderstanding of what queerness means and why visibility matters. As Sarah Schulman (2012) notes in The Gentrification of the Mind, the loss of sexual politics from queer spaces is not accidental but a consequence of neoliberal attempts to assimilate LGBTQ people into systems that continue to marginalize them.

Moreover, this sanitization undermines the very people whose liberation Pride was supposed to champion. Trans people, sex workers, people living with HIV, and those engaged in non-normative sexual practices have seen their visibility diminish just as the broader LGBTQ movement claims “inclusion.” According to Ritchie and Mogul (2007), this erasure aligns with a carceral and assimilationist approach to queer politics—one that values respectability over radicalism and marginalizes those who don’t conform. What was once a space to celebrate and politicize sex has been repackaged into a space where sexuality must be discreet, marketable, and inoffensive.

The shift is especially devastating for younger queer people, who now encounter a version of Pride that often leaves out the sexual energy that was once central to our movement. In Gay Shame, Halperin and Traub (2009) explore how the repression of queer sexuality under the guise of “progress” leads not to freedom, but to a new form of policing—this time from within the community. When Pride becomes merely a parade of sanitized slogans and rainbow logos, we lose not only our history but our future.

The LGBTQ movement was born from sexual deviance, rebellion, and refusal to conform. Sanitizing that history does not protect us—it disarms us. If we allow Pride to become sexually lifeless, we are not making it more inclusive; we are making it less honest. Pride must be reclaimed as a space where queer and trans people can express their desires and bodies with the same unapologetic defiance that launched the movement. Otherwise, it risks becoming a museum piece: brightly colored, well-funded, and utterly devoid of power.

References

Bridges, T. (2017, June 25). Activists protesting police presence at Chicago Pride Parade briefly detained. Chicago Tribune.

Halperin, D. M., & Traub, V. (Eds.). (2009). Gay shame. University of Chicago Press.

Ritchie, A. J., & Mogul, J. L. (2007). In Queer communities, police presence isn’t about safety. ColorLines. https://www.colorlines.com

Rubin, G. (1984). Thinking sex: Notes for a radical theory of the politics of sexuality. In C. Vance (Ed.), Pleasure and danger: Exploring female sexuality (pp. 267–319). Routledge.

Schulman, S. (2012). The gentrification of the mind: Witness to a lost imagination. University of California Press.

What I Believe About Relationships

By Katherine Walter

On June 28, 2025

In relationships

Image: ChatGPT

Relationships are among the most intimate and transformative parts of life—but for me, they don’t follow the traditional script. I’ve spent a long time unlearning what the world tells us relationships are “supposed” to be and discovering what they can be instead. I want to share what I believe about love, connection, sex, and partnership—not because I have all the answers, but because my truth might help others feel less alone in their own journey.

I am aromantic. I don’t experience romantic attraction the way most people do. I don’t crave romantic courtship, fairy-tale declarations, or being someone’s “everything.” That’s never been how my heart moves. For a long time, I felt out of sync with a world that insists on romance as the highest form of human connection. But in time, I came to understand that my way of relating isn’t less—it’s just different. I still love. I still build deep, meaningful connections. I still crave touch, intimacy, laughter, and mutual growth. But I don’t desire romance, and I don’t build my life around it.

I also identify as polyamorous. I believe that love, affection, and connection are abundant and not meant to be confined to one person at a time. I reject the idea that exclusivity is the only—or the highest—form of commitment. I find beauty in the ways people can show up for each other in different capacities. Each relationship is its own living thing, with its own needs, rhythms, and dynamics. I don’t want to own or be owned. I want connection that is chosen, not claimed.

My sexual orientation is best described as heteroflexible. I tend to be drawn to masculine energy, but attraction is fluid and often defies tidy labels. What matters most to me is authenticity—how someone exists in their body and their spirit, how they treat others, how they engage with joy, and how they handle complexity. Gender and sexuality, for me, are far more expansive than the categories we’re taught to stay within.

As a transgender woman, I bring my full self into every relationship. My womanhood is not conditional, and I refuse to enter into any dynamic where I am expected to explain or defend my identity. My transness has shaped me. It has taught me resilience, self-determination, and the sacred power of transformation. I offer all of that—openly and vulnerably—to the people I care about.

I also embrace a fully sex-positive philosophy. I believe sex is sacred, playful, healing, and liberating. I do not see sexuality as something to be ashamed of or hidden away. Whether I’m expressing desire through kink, physical intimacy, fantasy, or open conversation, I treat it as something that should be approached with joy, creativity, and care. Being aromantic doesn’t mean being asexual—though both identities are valid. For me, it means I can enjoy sexual and emotional intimacy without it needing to be filtered through a romantic lens.

What I want from relationships is truth. I want honesty without cruelty, intimacy without entitlement, and care without pretense. I don’t need people to fit into categories like “partner,” “lover,” or “friend.” I need them to show up as their full selves, and to let me do the same. I want to build chosen family. I want conversations that last for hours, shared silence that feels like home, mutual support in the chaos, and connection that expands rather than restricts.

I believe that love is not a single, fixed thing. It’s a spectrum, a mosaic, a process. It doesn’t always follow a script. It doesn’t have to end in a wedding or a shared mortgage to be real. It doesn’t have to be romantic to be profound. And it certainly doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s version of love.

Being aromantic means that I love differently. Not less. Not worse. Just differently. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we need more room in this world for different ways of loving. I want people to know that there are many valid ways to connect—and that living outside the traditional narrative can be not just fulfilling, but joyful, liberating, and deeply human.

So this is me, being honest about what I believe: in love without possession, sex without shame, intimacy without obligation, and relationships that are defined not by convention, but by care. If you’ve ever felt like the world’s idea of love doesn’t fit you—know that you are not broken. You are simply someone who deserves to love, and be loved, on your own terms.

The National Park Service’s Erasure of Transgender History at Stonewall

By Katherine Walter

On February 18, 2025

In LGBTQ+ rights

The Stonewall National Monument sign is seen as people protest outside the Stonewall Inn in New York, the scene of riots against police raids on the gay bar in 1969, on February 14, 2025, after the word transgender was erased from the National Park Service’s webpage about the riots. (Photo by Kena betancur / AFP) (Photo by KENA BETANCUR/AFP via Getty Images)

In a move that has sparked widespread controversy, the National Park Service (NPS) has removed references to “transgender” individuals and the “T” from the LGBTQ+ acronym on its Stonewall National Monument webpage. This action is widely viewed as an attempt to erase the significant contributions of transgender individuals to LGBTQ+ history, particularly their pivotal role in the 1969 Stonewall Riots.

Established in 2016 by President Barack Obama, the Stonewall National Monument commemorates the 1969 uprising at the Stonewall Inn in New York City, a key event that catalyzed the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement. The monument serves as a historical reminder of the struggle for equality and the continued fight against discrimination (National Park Service, n.d.).

On February 13, 2025, the NPS updated the Stonewall National Monument webpage, removing the term “transgender” and altering the acronym from “LGBTQ+” to “LGB.” This change is aligned with previous federal policies that have sought to define gender strictly as male or female, excluding recognition of transgender identities (The Guardian, 2025). Critics argue that such historical revisionism distorts the reality of past events and undermines the contributions of transgender activists who played a crucial role in the Stonewall Riots (Reuters, 2025).

The decision has been met with widespread backlash from LGBTQ+ advocacy groups, historians, and public officials. Stacy Lentz, co-owner of the Stonewall Inn and an outspoken LGBTQ+ rights advocate, condemned the move, stating that it dishonors the trans community’s role in the struggle for equality (Reuters, 2025). New York Governor Kathy Hochul also criticized the change, calling it “cruel and petty” and emphasizing that New York would not allow transgender individuals’ contributions to be erased (The Guardian, 2025).

Protests have erupted at the Stonewall National Monument, with activists demanding the restoration of the original language that included transgender individuals (CBS News, 2025). Advocates argue that the removal of transgender references is part of a broader effort to marginalize the trans community and erase its historical presence in the fight for LGBTQ+ rights (NBC News, 2025).

Transgender individuals played a significant role in the Stonewall Riots. Marsha P. Johnson, a Black transgender woman, and Sylvia Rivera, a Latina transgender woman, were among the most prominent figures in the uprising. Both later co-founded the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR), an organization dedicated to providing shelter and resources for homeless transgender youth (Asbury Park Press, 2025).

Eyewitness accounts and historical records confirm that transgender individuals were at the forefront of the resistance against police oppression during the raid on the Stonewall Inn in June 1969. Their defiance and activism ignited a movement that has since fought for LGBTQ+ rights across the nation (The New York Times, 2025).

The erasure of transgender history from the Stonewall National Monument is not just a symbolic act—it has real consequences. Historical revisionism that excludes transgender individuals contributes to their continued marginalization and reinforces narratives that deny their existence and struggles. Recognizing the full scope of LGBTQ+ history, including the vital role of transgender people, is essential in ensuring a future where all identities are acknowledged and respected.

LGBTQ+ advocates and historians have called for the National Park Service to restore the original language that included transgender individuals. Preserving the integrity of history is not just about honoring those who fought in the past; it is about ensuring that future generations understand the full truth of the LGBTQ+ rights movement.

References

ABC News. (2025, February 13). Transgender references removed from Stonewall National Monument website. https://abcnews.go.com/US/transgender-references-removed-stonewall-national-monument-website/story?id=118804553

Asbury Park Press. (2025, February 18). Black transgender NJ woman led the Stonewall Uprising. Now her family fights for her. https://www.app.com/story/news/2025/02/18/black-trans-nj-woman-marsha-p-johnson-led-stonewall-uprising/78964198007

CBS News. (2025, February 14). Protests at Stonewall National Monument after “LGBTQ” changed to “LGB” on website. https://www.cbsnews.com/news/stonewall-national-monument-protest-trans-queer-references-removed

NBC News. (2025, February 14). References to transgender and queer removed from Stonewall National Monument’s web page. https://www.nbcnews.com/feature/nbc-out/references-transgender-queer-removed-stonewall-national-monuments-web-page-n1234567

National Park Service. (n.d.). Stonewall National Monument. https://www.nps.gov/ston/index.htm

The Guardian. (2025, February 13). US park service erases references to trans people from Stonewall monument website. https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/feb/13/stonewall-website-transgender

The New York Times. (2025, February 13). U.S. Park Service strikes transgender references from Stonewall website. https://www.nytimes.com/2025/02/13/us/stonewall-national-monument-transgender.html

The Washington Post. (2025, February 14). National Park Service removes transgender references from Stonewall monument website. https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/stonewall-monument-transgender-references-removed/2025/02/14/abc123def456

Reuters. (2025, February 14). Trump erasure of transgender references extends to Stonewall monument website. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/trump-erasure-transgender-references-extends-stonewall-monument-website-2025-02-14/

Embracing My Identity as a Sex-Positive Transfeminist

By Katherine Walter

On December 14, 2024

In feminism

As a transgender woman, my journey of self-discovery and affirmation has been deeply intertwined with my understanding of sexuality, identity, and autonomy. I identify as a sex-positive transfeminist, which means I believe in celebrating the full range of human experience, embracing sexual expression, and challenging the societal norms that seek to limit or shame it.

Being sex-positive is about more than just being open to diverse sexual orientations and practices. It’s about rejecting the stigma that surrounds certain aspects of sexuality and embracing a philosophy of consent, respect, and autonomy. As a transgender woman, I’ve had to navigate not only societal expectations of femininity and gender but also the layers of shame and misconceptions about my body, my desires, and my identity. Transgender women, in particular, are often stigmatized as either hypersexual or as objects of fetish, but being a sex-positive transfeminist means rejecting these harmful stereotypes and celebrating my sexuality as a multifaceted and natural part of who I am.

Kink-Friendly and Embracing Diverse Sexual Expression

As part of my sex-positive approach, I am also kink-friendly. I believe that kink and BDSM practices, when based on mutual consent, communication, and respect, are just as valid and fulfilling as any other form of sexual expression. In fact, the kink community has provided me with a space to embrace my desires, challenge social taboos, and engage in deep, meaningful exploration of power dynamics and intimacy. Being kink-friendly means acknowledging that people have diverse desires and fantasies, and those desires are valid as long as they are consensual and respectful of everyone involved.

For me, this means fully accepting and celebrating all aspects of my sexuality without shame or guilt. There is no one-size-fits-all approach to sexual expression, and I firmly believe that everyone deserves the freedom to explore their desires in ways that are both safe and affirming.

Writing Erotica: An Outlet for Creative and Sexual Expression

Another important aspect of my life is my work as an erotica writer, which I pursue under a pen name. Through my writing, I’ve been able to explore the complexities of desire, identity, and power dynamics in a way that aligns with my own experiences and fantasies. My work is known within certain communities on the internet, where it has garnered attention for its raw, unapologetic exploration of sex and intimacy. Writing under a pen name allows me to separate my public persona from my private creative expression, but it also gives me the freedom to engage with readers and communities who appreciate erotic literature that pushes boundaries, explores kink, and challenges societal views on sexuality.

The act of writing erotica is, for me, a form of empowerment. It allows me to reclaim my sexuality in a way that is both creative and personal, while also providing an opportunity to engage with others who share similar interests. It’s a space where I can express myself freely, without judgment, and where I can challenge the taboos that often surround topics of sex and desire.

Pro-Sex Worker and Advocacy for Decriminalization

As part of my broader belief in sex-positivity and autonomy, I am also pro-sex worker and firmly believe that prostitution should be decriminalized. Sex work, when practiced consensually and safely, is a valid and legitimate form of labor, and the criminalization of sex work only serves to harm those who engage in it. By decriminalizing prostitution, we can ensure that sex workers have access to legal protections, safety, and healthcare, and can live their lives without the constant fear of legal repercussions or stigmatization.

Transgender people, particularly trans women, are disproportionately affected by the criminalization of sex work. Many transgender individuals face discrimination and marginalization in the job market, leaving sex work as one of the few viable options for survival. By decriminalizing prostitution, we would not only be improving the lives of sex workers, but also dismantling the social stigma and criminalization that disproportionately harms marginalized communities.

Sex workers, like all individuals, deserve to be treated with dignity and respect, free from criminal penalties. It’s time for society to recognize sex work as work, and to protect those who choose this path with the same legal rights and protections afforded to any other worker.

Challenging Stigma and Celebrating Autonomy

As a sex-positive transfeminist, my goal is to create a world where people of all genders, orientations, and identities can embrace their sexualities without fear of judgment or discrimination. I advocate for spaces that are inclusive, respectful, and open to all forms of consensual expression, whether that means engaging in kink, embracing non-traditional relationships, or simply living authentically as one’s true self.

Sexuality is a deeply personal and often transformative aspect of human life. For transgender individuals, it can be an especially challenging terrain to navigate. But by embracing a sex-positive mindset and fostering a transfeminist perspective, I believe we can create more inclusive, affirming spaces for people to explore their identities and desires. It’s not just about personal liberation—it’s about contributing to a broader cultural shift where all people, regardless of gender or background, can live authentically and celebrate their sexuality without shame.

In embracing sex-positivity, kink, erotic writing, and advocacy for sex workers’ rights, I’ve found a sense of freedom and empowerment that has transformed my journey. And I’m proud to share this part of my identity with others, hoping to encourage a more inclusive, respectful, and open-minded world.