As we celebrate San Diego’s 35th annual GLBT Pride, it’s easy to get caught up in the outrageous floats of the parade, the party beads, the boas, the glistening tanned chests of the dancers, the circuit parties, the beer gardens, electrical tape on the nipples of the Dykes on Bikes and all the revelry this week offers. But stop to think about all the festivities in context and you’ll be even prouder.

There’s a pivotal moment in the Tony-award-winning musical, Hairspray, directed by San Diego’s own openly gay Old Globe icon Jack O’Brien, in which Miss Maybelle says, “There’s a dream / In the future / There’s a struggle / That we have yet to win / And there’s pride / In my heart / ’Cause I know / Where I’m going / And I know where I’ve been.”

Some in our community frown on displays at Pride. But not those who were there 35 years ago for the first march. Not those who were there, marching with bags over their heads to hide their faces for fear of reprisal for their participation. It was a time when police raided bars and physically beat GLBT individuals simply because they danced with members of the same sex.

Even something so seemingly simple as the city granting permission to block off the parade route – that “Rainbow Mile” as we now call it – and use public land for the event is huge, when taken into context of those first few years when dedicated activists fought police and city officials for the rights to assemble peacefully and express their unity.

Today, Pride is San Diego ’s largest civic event, and the second largest revenue event for our city. Public officials no longer have to be harangued to sign permits, worried about backlash from their constituents, because they’re busy waving from their cars, courting votes among the tens of thousands of folks gathered along the parade route. Many of these elected officials are members of the GLBT community, and even more are not.

This year’s grand marshal, Cleve Jones, is a living treasure of the GLBT community. Jones, best known as the father of the AIDS quilt, worked alongside Harvey Milk as they fought the 1978 Proposition 6, otherwise known as The Briggs Initiative. The initiative, which ultimately failed, would have banned openly GLBT persons from becoming teachers in California. Think of it as the educational “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” of its time.

Thirty years after the defeat of Proposition 6, there are schools across this nation dedicated to serving the GLBTQ+ population, and more and more schools are embracing Gay-Straight Alliances. And if you want to know when the Gay, Lesbian, Straight Education Network is marching in the parade, just listen for some of the loudest cheers. All of us can probably remember that teacher who created a safe space for us, who said no to bullying and reminded everyone that being different is what makes everyone special.

Today, as the country looks to revisit the military’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, we would be well served to take a page from Jones’ playbook. As we set ourselves to fight for marriage equality, we could have no greater beacon, no finer example, of what it is to fight the good fight and win than our grand marshal.

So, we salute you Cleve Jones, and we pay tribute to where you’ve been, and where we know you’ll continue to take us.

Already you’ve called for a March on Washington for October, because it is indeed time again for our nation to be reminded of where we’ve been and where we’re going. And we know that we will once again bring our collective forces together for progress.

For 21 of the last 35 years, the Gay & Lesbian Times has been proud to serve as a voice for the GLBT community of America’s Finest City – San Diego, the ninth largest city in the nation.

With that right comes awesome responsibility, and we know that we have your support. This week as you participate in all that our city has to offer for Pride, take a moment and reflect on where we’ve been. And take a moment to think about where we need to go. If there is one lesson we’ve learned from those who have come before us to give us the rights to this celebration, it’s that we’ll get there.

We must participate by unifying and showing our support in numbers at events such as Pride and the upcoming March on Washington, so those who follow us not only realize where we are going but where we’ve been.

Happy 35 years of Pride San Diego!