Every June, corporations roll out their rainbow logos, release limited-edition Pride merchandise, and fill social media feeds with messages about inclusion. Meanwhile, many of those same companies donate to politicians attacking LGBTQIA+ rights, exploit workers, profit from war, or remain silent when our communities are under attack.
This is rainbow capitalism. It is the practice of turning LGBTQIA+ liberation into a marketing strategy while stripping it of its politics, its history, and its demands for justice. Pride did not begin as a branding opportunity. It was not founded by corporations, politicians, or institutions seeking positive publicity.
In June 1969, patrons of the Stonewall Inn in New York City fought back against yet another police raid. The uprising unfolded over several nights of escalating confrontation with police. They were not asking politely for acceptance. They were resisting state violence and demanding the right to live openly and safely.
The movement we celebrate today was built by people living at the margins of society, by trans people, drag queens, sex workers, unhoused youth, Black and Brown LGBTQIA+ people, and countless others who faced police violence, criminalization, poverty, stigma, and social exclusion.
That resistance at Stonewall became a turning point in LGBTQIA+ organizing. One year later, activists in New York held the Christopher Street Liberation Day March, widely recognized as the first Pride march. Our community marched despite the risk of losing their livelihoods, facing violence, or being publicly outed.
LGBTQIA+ people continue to face attacks on healthcare, bodily autonomy, education, housing, and public life. Trans people are increasingly targeted by lawmakers. Queer youth continue to experience homelessness at disproportionately high rates. Sex workers remain criminalized and stigmatized. Black and Brown LGBTQIA+ communities continue to face intersecting forms of discrimination and violence.
Now, Pride celebrations have become dominated by the very institutions (and even community) that Pride originally challenged.
Police departments march at events commemorating resistance to police violence. Weapons manufacturers sponsor celebrations of our struggles against oppression. Corporations profit from Pride branding while funding politicians and policies that undermine our rights. The message becomes one of some estranged inclusion into existing exploitative systems rather than the transformation of those systems.
As a queer person myself, I do not believe that is honoring the radical spirit and experiences of our Stonewall and movement ancestors. That’s why I have been part of the People’s Pride Coalition through my work with the Justice Advocacy Network since its inception. The coalition emerged from a simple belief: Pride should belong to the community, not corporations and cops.
We were tired of watching the spirit of Pride get packaged, sponsored, and sold back to us. We were tired of seeing institutions connected to violence and oppression presented as champions of liberation. We were tired of seeing those with the most money take center stage while many LGBTQIA+ businesses are closing, artists are struggling, and people are struggling to access basic resources, housing, healthcare, job security, or safety.
So we have been building something different.
Through grassroots organizing and fundraising efforts, the People’s Pride Coalition offers an annual free Pride celebration. We have worked to create a free space centered on community care, mutual aid, education, local artists, grassroots organizations, and the people who make our movements possible. No cops. No weapons manufacturers. No corporations.
For me, this is about honoring the legacy of those who came before us by carrying forward the values that shaped the movement in the first place. Pride history reminds us that meaningful change rarely comes from those in power deciding to do the right thing. It comes from ordinary people organizing together, supporting one another, and refusing to accept injustice as inevitable.
The people who threw the first bricks, resisted the raids, cared for one another during the AIDS crisis, created mutual aid networks, and built liberation movements did not know what victories would come. They acted because they believed our communities deserved better, because we deserve to exist and thrive. We owe them and the LGBTQIA2S+ youth of today our commitment to continue the work.
Pride was a protest. For many of us, it still is.
Amy Goodman has spent decades doing some of the most consistent and fearless independent journalism in the country. As the co-founder and host of