Written by: Ted Kuster
The Pride Parade has been a part of my life since I moved to San Francisco. This will be my first time marching in it, but I’ve been a spectator more times than I can remember. When my kids were little and had to go where we took them, we used to take them to Pride every year. We wanted them to see for themselves what a wide and wonderful spectrum of humans we are blessed to share this world with.
When my older daughter was five she got to march in the parade herself, with her mom, as part of the nurses’ union contingent. I’m afraid I did not behave well. I ran alongside the parade, pushing through the crowd on the sidewalk, pointing and yelling to random strangers, “That’s my kid! That’s my kid!” I annoyed a lot of people that day and I didn’t care.
As a banjo player, I annoy a lot of people every day, and I still don’t care. I’m proud to be a banjo player. The banjo is untameable, infinitely complex, impossibly beautiful, and sometimes hard to take. Just like humans.
When we celebrate Pride we exalt that untamed spirit, our shared need to be who we really are, out in the open. Like a good banjo player, we don’t worry about who might be annoyed, or shocked, or embarrassed. We just let it roll, in all its tuneful glory. Welcome to Bluegrass Pride, our little community’s first step into the rainbow.