They young reveler looked at me and shouted over the music, “It’s great seeing you here!” He offered a fist bump and guided me through the secret handshake that followed the bump. We laughed.
At first I was puzzled. I didn’t know him at all yet he was genuinely delighted to see me. And then it occurred to me. In his eyes I am old. My beard is gray. He was happily surprised to find an old guy dancing in the raucous sweaty crowd at Chicago PRIDE.
Kerri leaned forward and told him – well, shouted over the throbbing thunderous music – that the performer on the stage was our son. The young reveler looked like she just slapped him. “WHAT?!” he exclaimed. He turned and told his friends. They looked at us as if hell had just frozen over – a remarkable metaphor since it was 105 degrees at 7:30 pm. Parents at PRIDE! Parents celebrating and supporting their son! Impossible! Unimaginable! Fist bumps, high-fives! The young reveler shook my hand enthusiastically saying, “No Way!! No Way!!”
Their dancing resumed, more enthusiastic, more joyful, in a world made new with wondrous possibility. The word spread. Proud parents were at PRIDE, dancing! Hunky boys fanned Kerri to keep her cool. She stood on the curb so she could take pictures of the stage above the festive crowd. “You’re Craig’s Mom!” I heard declared again and again. More hugs and introductions.
Later, exhausted, on the train ride home, Kerri said, “I think it was really important that we showed up.” I knew what she meant. We unintentionally showed up for more than Craig’s performance.
I thought of something the MC said to crowd after Craig’s set, “Are you going to take care of your trans brothers and sisters? Are you going to take care of each other?” he asked. The crowd cheered and he added, “Remember, if one of us is marginalized, all of us are marginalized.” Words of caution made more relevant – and poignant – by the manufactured hatred of our times. The demonization of “the other” marginalizes all of us.
Now, more than ever, it matters that we show up for each other. I was heartened by the No Kings protests. I am heartened each time a community shines a light on masked ICE agents and shames them away from brutalizing yet another human being. Our presence – our witness – in this moment matters more than we will ever understand.
CONNECTED on the album RELEASED FROM THE HEART © 1995 Kerri Sherwood
Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora
read Kerri’s blogpost about PRIDE
likesharesupport…thankyou.
Filed under: Family, Identity, KS Friday | Tagged: artistry, Chicago Pride, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, ice, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, marginalization, No Kings, parents, presence, story, studio melange, support, the melange, witness |
The Direction of Intention 
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