Performing at Pride

I have been asked to perform at pride. The person who asked me is a wonderful person, and I have nothing against them. My reservations are based solely on the event itself and those who organize it.

I have lived and performed in Pittsburgh for quite a number of years and have never been invited to participate in the event before. I won’t even speculate as to why because all of the blame and finger pointing is childish and accomplishes nothing.

Pride this year has been quite the clusterfuck, and I hope all the screaming for change doesn’t die down and get swept under the rug again until next year because then you’ve accomplished nothing but screaming tantrums to get your way.

You can accomplish more from within the organization than you can from screaming at it from the outside, so get your hands dirty if you want things to be different next year. Go there, incorporate yourself into the machine.

I realize I went off on a strange tangent for a moment, but that is how my brain works–or doesn’t work.

I’m working through my own shit right now, and Pride is 2 days away, so I probably won’t be performing. I’m tired of bullshit being half-assed just to get through the night. But deeper than that, (get ready for a terrible pun) my pride is wounded.

Pride is meant to be a celebration of all of us and how far we’ve come: a time for us to band together. But it doesn’t feel like that because the same people run the same things every year. Pittsburgh’s gay community is very stagnant, and a lot of that is because the same people are making the same decisions again and again. And here is the formula:

Popstar + Beer Garden + Pageant Queens + Cookie Cutter Gay Boys + Gay Good Ole Boys Club + Money = Pittsburgh Pride

Oops another tangent–back to the main point. I probably won’t be participating because I’m bitter. Or disappointed? Or disgusted? I dunno what I feel at the moment, but I do know I’m not offended. There’s too much of that going around nowadays.


Cherri Baum



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