Kitsap Pride Basks in Gloriously Colorful Community

Rockin’ the plague doctor fan in front of the Kitsap Pride banner.

Jordan Ballard-Gennrich

The first pride was a riot, really more of a rebellion. So you can imagine my internal preparation as I braced for another corporatized Pride to leave a bad taste in my mouth. Luckily I had nothing to fear at the Kitsap Pride Festival. 

Nestled away from the busy road and across from a monster truck rally (jokingly referred to as “straight pride”), we followed the trail of colorful individuals making their way into the event after parking. 

As we approached, roadside pastors preaching our end struggled to shame us over a well-placed speaker and volunteers directing us towards the festival and not to engage. 

Entering Gordan Fields brought us to banners and an information booth, followed by rows of vendor booths leading to a performance stage and hooking to the right towards the food vendors and growing serenity. The first booth caught the eye: an entire trailer staged with a curated mini bookstore inside. Walking down the row of booths revealed a rebuttal to my pre-loaded complaint. Instead of corporations luring you onto email lists and pre-approved credit cards (D.C. Pride cough), we saw local craftmakers and LGBTQIA+ business owners, non-brick and mortar booksellers, and local government agencies like the public library, Kitsap Public Health, and the Sheriff's Department. There were also several non-profits and community groups seeking volunteers, like Meals on Wheels, or spreading awareness such as the Council for Human Rights. 

Local politicians running for office had booths showing support and engaging with the community to include West Sound Democratic Socialists, our local DSA chapter. There were also multiple churches with booths providing welcoming communal worship opportunities for those interested. 

These booths highlighted systems and organizations within our existing societal structure fighting for accessibility and striving to improve conditions for marginalized communities. 

Festival attendance occasionally results in an efficient running of one’s pockets, so I was pleased the merchant booths weren’t inaccessibly expensive (as a recent victim of layoffs). There were also many free groups sharing their passions. A quiltmaker who spent years attending various festivals and community events to gather signatures had a booth showcasing the finished community quilt. At a booth of beautifully displayed wood carvings, we tried to admire from a distance before being beckoned forward with a kind “We’re not selling anything.” The wood pieces were intricate and delicate marvels. “We’re just advertising our free woodcarving lessons,” the attendant said. Love and passion for the craft inspired free education from them as well as local hiking or birding groups and resources for gardeners. And of course free mom hugs!

Kitsap Pride booth

Jordan Ballard-Gennrich

Kitsap Pride got it so right. To the soundtrack of catchy tunes and drag performances on the stage, the festival highlighted the community. Free water, a teen section, and a separate booze garden supported the attendees in discovering the many Queer-led, owned, or friendly community groups, clubs, organizations, and churches going out of their way to be welcoming and engage with the communities under attack by our current administration. 

As I stood, eating shaved ice with my partners in a green field under a blue, partially cloudy sky, I looked around at the friends, lovers, individuals, and families enjoying being out and in community. I was reminded that people were still working to build the future. All was not lost and caving to pressures that would see us—i.e. anyone different, anyone other, anyone not willing to go along to get along—silenced or dead, was not the way forward. 

What a time to live, where the shadows of fear give way to bright color year after year.

Maybe we were individually helpless in the face of global powers and politics, but only if we neglect the very real work and support to be done and found in our local communities. 

Kitsap Pride (the group) was established in 1997. I think of all the struggles and wins the organization has seen since then. What the community has survived and built since the Stonewall Riots in 1969.

We cannot wait for the government to protect us or legitimize our position as humans. We already exist. We must fight for ourselves and those who cannot. That fight starts small and local. Because the future is colorful. The future is diverse. And those that would shame us into fear, silence, and out of existence have nothing in the face of our Pride and love.