“No Kinks at Pride” Discourse Reflects Disengagement from Pressing Equity Issues
Arguers on both sides fail to address the persisting barriers towards LGBTQ+ equity in society at large.
What seems to have become a now-annual tradition is an ongoing conversation within the LGBTQ+ community which is never resolved: “Kinks vs. No Kinks at Pride.” This dialogue, which is almost exclusively contained within the Twitterverse but has more recently popped up on platforms like TikTok, centers around whether attendees at Pride events should be able to showcase their kinks.
On the “Kinks at Pride” side, the argument stands that kinks should be allowed at Pride because they are a form of resistance against hetero- and cis-normativity, and that folks who are against kinks at Pride are promoting the anti-LGBTQ+ idea that displays of “sexually-deviant” behavior of any kind are immoral.
For the “No Kinks at Pride” side, the arguments tend to fall into two camps: that kinks at Pride make the events unsafe for children, or that kinks at Pride infringe on one’s ability to consent to seeing explicitly sexual behavior.
This is a very nuanced discussion, in that the more questions you ask, the more questions are revealed: What is considered a kink? What is and is not a public display of sexuality? Do those under 18 have a right to attend Pride? Should participants care whether or not their actions make others uncomfortable?
And while there is a lot of grey area with these questions — especially given that the history of LGBTQ+ oppression is rooted in similar talking points as those used to dismiss kinks at Pride — what is more pressing is the fact that this never-ending dialogue takes place with such fervor and passion in the first place.
Search up “Kinks at Pride” or “No Kinks at Pride” on Twitter, and you could easily spend the entire 4 hours it takes for the Chicago Pride Parade to complete its route reading different viewpoints and still have more tweets to scroll through.
Members of the LGBTQ+ community care a lot about this issue, so much so that in the last two weeks of May through the end of June the discussion is the dominating issue of the community.
Or so it may seem.
While there are certainly folks from all walks of life participating in the “Kinks vs. No Kinks at Pride” discussion, those with the loudest voices and who take up the most space in the conversation on both sides of the aisle tend to be those who are white, male, and cisgender.
The LGBTQ+ community has never been a monolith, a point which was made explicitly clear in the mid-2010s. By 2013, 50 percent of all Americans supported same-sex marriage for the first time ever, something which was codified two years later following the Supreme Court’s ruling in Obergefell v. Hodges.
This progress in the realm of marriage equality specifically has led to a general sense of complacency in fighting for LGBTQ+ equity by those whose only identity marginalization is being gay. As Vox writer Xorje Olivares noted in 2016, a number of organizations both focusing specifically on marriage equality, as well as LGBTQ+ issues at large, ceased operations following Obergefell, despite a number of issues, including a rise in hate crimes, anti-trans bathroom bills, and a continued lack of LGBTQ+ protection under the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Fair Housing Act of 1968 still remaining unresolved.
These issues are not proportionally distributed — in more socially liberal parts of the country, like California, New York, and Illinois, a lot of these issues have been addressed at the state level. These regions also tend to be those with larger LGBTQ+ populations than in other parts of the country, which can lead to those in these regions feeling disconnected from the equity issues which remain at the federal level.
This all matters in the context of the “Kinks vs. No Kinks at Pride” conversation because many of those who engage with this discourse — specifically those who are white, male, and cisgender — claim to be marginalized for their kinks or lack thereof without regard for those in the LGBTQ+ community who still face tangible barriers to equity in society at large.
Yes, no matter where you live in the United States, if you are gay you are marginalized in American society specifically for existing. But you cannot claim marginalization beyond your sexual orientation without acknowledging your own individual privilege in a society of unequal marginalization.
Being kink-shamed on Twitter, for instance, is infinitely insignificant in comparison to trans-folks in Tennessee who face a Class B Misdemeanor and sex offense charge for using the bathroom of their gender identity, or folks in the LGBTQ+ community who can be fired from their jobs simply for their sexual orientation or gender identity in the 17 states which lack any sort of employment protections.
Moreover, when you actively participate in systems of oppression, you are doing more harm than you ever could do good by engaging in discourse surrounding the display of kinks at your local Pride event. Especially within the gay community, racism, transphobia, biphobia, misogyny, ableism, and discrimination against those who are undocumented are much more rampant than anyone who prioritizes the kinks discourse would like to admit, so much so that the phrase “No Fats, No Femmes, No Asians” — a reference to the racist description seen on many gay dating profiles — has become a joke within the gay community rather than an impetus to counter engrained bigotry.
None of this is to say that the “Kinks vs. No Kinks at Pride” discourse cannot take place at all. Again, there are valid concerns on both sides of the aisle rooted in the safety and validity of the LGBTQ+ community (as a note, my personal view is that since Pride is a month-long, there are plenty of opportunities for Pride events to offer a variety of festivities ranging from the consensual and family-friendly to the more explicit and sexually-liberating).
Rather, all of this is to say that it's important to take a moment and pause before hitting “post” on your 280 character hot take defending why you deserve to not face judgement while walking down Christopher St. in West Hollywood wearing assless chaps, muzzled, and on a leash with your partner, and take the time to do some self reflection on what issues you should be prioritizing.
When was the last time you picked up a book discussing how to be anti-racist? Have you made any donations to one of the countless organizations still fighting for LGBTQ+ rights beyond those already afforded to the “G?” Are you registered to vote, and did your down-ballot decisions last election center around personal economic gain or the rights to exist for those in the LGBTQ+ community?
These are the types of conversations worth having — not those which focus on the personal comfort of the privileged few, but rather those which work to elevate the many members of the LGBTQ+ community who still face tangible barriers to equity on a daily basis.