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The New York Pride continues, outraged by the Supreme Court’s ruling on abortion

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NEW YORK – 39-year-old Daria Walcott did not want to spend the Friday night before Pride weekend – sweaty and tortured, crowded side by side with thousands of other roaring protesters. Initially, she would stay at home in Haarlem, resting before “dancing,” as she put it, at the joyous annual march of pride in the city center. But now, here she is, hastily carrying a handwritten poster on a board: “They won’t stop at Rowe.”

“It felt important,” Walcott said of his decision to attend Friday’s impromptu protest. The Supreme Court “seems to think everything is on the table,” said Walcott, who is bisexual as protesters around her shouted obscene words checking the names of Judges Amy Connie Barrett and Brett M. Cavanaugh.. “Gay rights, interracial marriage, same-sex marriage: All of these things now seem to be on the table.”

Here in the city in the center of the largest LGBTQ population in the country, the court’s decision on Friday morning to overturn Rowe vs. Wade they had come just as many were preparing for what had turned into an ecstatic, one-month celebration of community and identity for five decades, culminating in a jubilant weekend. Suddenly, less than 48 hours before one of the largest annual pride marches in the world, if not on the largest, they dealt not only with the cessation of access to abortion in parts of the country, but also with Judge Clarence Thomas, who suggested that same-sex relationships, same-sex marriage, and even access to contraception might be next. This was the right hook that many feared was coming. The holiday turned into a fight.

And yet the holiday has always been a battle.

“Pride is always political,” said Jenny Romain, 59, who carried a sign reading “Access to Abortion in Dyke Zombie 4. Be Gay – Eat the Law!” and she was draped beautifully in pink tulle, with pink nails and a fake eye popping out of her face for Dyke’s Saturday march. She had thought of everything as soon as the decision was made. “The countries are working fast,” she said.

Shifting gears in protest of the “brutal act of political violence” that is over deershe said, “It’s natural. Pride for Romaine is a celebration with rituals designed to honor the work of “ancestors” who in 1969 rebelled against police raids on the Stonewall Inn and then took to the streets to demonstrate numerical strength.

Across town, Pride’s weekend didn’t look as different as it had in the past few decades: rainbow flags, fairy wings, weird cheerleading squads, naked breasts, revealing boys, partygoers laughing at troubles with body glow. while queuing for baths in West Village bars, a topless dancer named Mary Magdalene in a leather devil costume waving a sign reading “Sex Work” and black drag queens synchronizing their lips after midnight for toasts and we are not worthy to we worship in a church on Christopher Street.

But the tenor felt different. The Pride rally, which overlapped with Friday’s abortion rights protest, was so infrequently attended that when the few people who showed up moved their chairs to the shadows, the area in front of the stage remained empty.

At Saturday’s Dyke March, Ioannis Martinez, 32, said she cried when the decision was made. As someone who is weird, “I may not have an unplanned pregnancy with a partner,” but it all comes down to a lack of bodily autonomy, she said.

She also wants to get married and cry every time she thinks about the possibility of being deprived of that right. “I am a first generation Mexican American. My parents fought so hard to get here, and I said to myself, “I want to leave somehow, boys! I think you made the wrong choice! ”

Nicole Patterson, 26, of Mississippi, said the lack of access to abortion there “could be a death sentence for black women.” Patterson, who is bisexual and has rainbow braids in her hair, suffered a panic attack on Friday, thinking of losing the birth control pills she has and her teenage sisters in Mississippi. “What if they make a mistake and want to get on with their lives, but instead stay to be a teenage mother?”

New York Gov. Katie Hochul (D) stopped at Saturday’s Harlem Pride to give hope and hugs – her Democratic primary is Tuesday – and told The Washington Post she noticed the crowds are less “happy and plentiful” this year. “There is a dark cloud. “People are trying to break through, but the difference is palpable,” she said.

New York women and even visitors from Texas fell into her arms and cried, she said. She had changed her schedule to spend the whole night at Union Square’s abortion rights rally. “I can’t keep guns out of the hands of the people here,” she said. “The Supreme Court tells me that as governor I have to let the hidden wear happen, but they will also force people not to have an abortion and to have to be pregnant. The world is chaos. My job is to restore confidence that people will recover. We will go through this. ”

On Saturday night at Henrietta Hudson, one of the other lesbian bars in New York, the man who ran the long queue at the door wore a Bans Off Our Bodies T-shirt. On the dance floor, amid a sea of ​​necklaces with neon glow sticks and couples kissing in rainbow-matching bandanas, the DJ urged the patrons to “rub each other with respect.” But on Monday, she added, “we’re going to work as hell.”

While many of those present at Pride expressed embarrassment and devastation, few sounded shocked. The Supreme Court’s biggest rulings have always come out the week before Pride, around the time the court usually goes on vacation, said 34-year-old Jody Crane, organizer of Dyke March. There has always been something to protest or, in this case Obergefel v. Hodges, which codified same-sex marriage in 2015, something to celebrate. And she knew from past statements that Thomas would come after Obergefel.

“It’s something I used to prepare for every summer as a gay woman,” Crane said. “What’s new that’s going to happen?” And it’s a really sad and frustrating reality, but it’s the experience of every strange person in the United States. There is no bottom. There doesn’t seem to be a bottom. “

As a black bisexual woman, 45-year-old Kamini Wright said she felt particularly shocked. Wright, who wore braids in pink, purple and blue (the “bisexual flag”), has been protesting all week: fighting money taken from public school programs, fighting gun violence after a girl was shot dead in her neighborhood in the Bronx. She had been raised by her grandmother and had heard stories of separate drinking fountains and doors, of black women dead in the streets trying to end an unwanted pregnancy.

“A lot of my grandmother’s friends couldn’t have children after failed abortions,” Wright said. Now trans women have been found dead in the streets. She fears that the rights of black and brown people will be next. What right did the government have to tell its 14-year-old daughter what to do with her body? “They’re not trying to tell men what to do with their bodies,” Wright said. “Well, all those men who don’t pay child support. Why don’t they make them do a vasectomy or something? “

Pride organizers have always been careful to use the word “march” instead of “parade,” said Sue Duster, co-chair of the NYC Pride, which has helped organize the Pride in New York for 30 years. And, Duster said, the feeling that gay rights and transgender autonomy are at stake is growing every year since the election of former President Donald Trump. Sandra Perez, CEO of NYC Pride, reiterated this feeling: “We have always been very clear that this is more than just a holiday, because we are still not sure about our human rights.

But Pride’s fun, even in the midst of it all, is still important. This is what motivated Mel Baker to take her husband Andrew and her three children – Sophie, 14; Laila, 9; and Jackson, 5 – in their coordinating Pride T-shirts and smash them from West Orange, New Jersey, to Central Park on Saturday for Youth Pride, a lively festival aimed at children and teens. Cheerleaders in rainbow uniforms and flowing pompoms greeted the families at the entrance; a pair of high school students ran around with a flag of pride held between them, narrowly avoiding bowling over the others present; and the dancers parted all over the stage.

For Baker, the Supreme Court ruling on Friday was “just less than a day away,” she said. “Having two girls, the suggestion that what they do with their body is no longer their decision is really problematic.

“That’s why we came today,” Baker added. “We wanted to come and immerse ourselves in love, happiness and joy in a beautiful day. I think that was our way of getting out of it. “

Anisa, 13 (and Cancer, she volunteered), who came out as a bisexual late last year, travels from Atlanta to attend her first youth pride. In the queue for Saturday’s event, with her aunt and grandmother next to her, Anisa, who spoke on condition that only her name was used to avoid unwanted attention, said she regretted not dyeing her hair for the event. “Pink to match my outfit,” she said.

Anisa hardly remembers America, where same-sex couples could not marry. Friday’s decision and especially its significance for Obergefel, left her in “a little mistrust,” she said. “I just don’t know how they could do that.”

On Sunday, the city’s annual pride march continued as usual, with a huge and palpable mood for abortion rights. At the corner of Fifth Avenue and 26th Street, an organized horde was holding a purple …