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As MLB's Pride Nights launch in earnest, a call to action from LGBTQ fans: 'Leave us alone'

WASHINGTON – From their perch in the largely liberal national capital area, attendees at Tuesday night’s Nationals Night Out recognized their relative privilege within the LGBTQ community.

Billed as the longest-running Pride event in Major League Baseball, fans took pains to note there was nothing particularly subversive about gathering with friends over cold drinks and a Nationals-Arizona Diamondbacks game within a supportive community largely unbothered by sexual orientation or gender identity.

But zoom out a bit from D.C., and this 18th Night Out, and add the context of discriminatory laws passed in other states, and politicians chasing clout at the expense of the marginalized, and a thrum of culture warriordom aiming to sweep away rights fought for over decades, and the tenor can change.

Loud and proud? Certainly. Yet “leave us alone” also fits these times.

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Former House of Representative Speaker Nancy Pelosi throws out the ceremonial first pitch before the game between the Nationals and the Diamondbacks.
Former House of Representative Speaker Nancy Pelosi throws out the ceremonial first pitch before the game between the Nationals and the Diamondbacks.

“Being a part of multiple marginalized communities, it can feel a little overwhelming sometimes,” says Kenneth Bradford-Roy, 35, a Black Nationals fan from D.C. “But being here helps versus being in other parts of the country where it’s much more of an issue. It’s not something I take lightly.

“There’s an interesting victimization that’s going on by the right. I don’t think people being proud of who they are is necessarily a challenge to what the right is saying. I think the majority of what people are asking for is to be left alone. Be able to go home and go to bed, and pay their bills, and do nothing. And the rest of it is caught up in conversation that isn’t productive if it’s not coming from a place allowing people to do that.”

There were few such concerns Tuesday, the first of 25 celebrations across Major League Baseball this month; 29 teams - the Texas Rangers are the lone holdout - will have Pride Nights this season.

The Nationals distributed a bobblehead of Screech, their eagle mascot, draped in a Pride flag. Former House speaker Nancy Pelosi threw out the first pitch, a noble heave from the 83-year-old to Screech himself. The Nationals honored Pelosi for her “long-standing commitment to fighting for the rights and dignities of the LGBTQ+ community, dating from her first congressional speech in 1987 on the AIDS crisis, up through leading recent legislation guaranteeing civil rights protections on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity.”

In a sense, it could have been a lifetime achievement recognition. But the LGBTQ community is suddenly faced with a fight to maintain their gains. And even Pelosi’s contemporaries from nearly a half-century ago face erasure.

Last month, a California school board banned a textbook with a brief mention of pioneering San Francisco councilman Harvey Milk, who was murdered in 1978, one year after he took office. Tuesday, the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights announced they purchased ads on Los Angeles Dodgers radio broadcasts to call for a boycott of the club’s June 16 Pride Night.

The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, revered in San Francisco for their decades of service to the LGBTQ community, have drawn the ire of (and significant free publicity from) right-wing groups and personalities since their inclusion in the Dodgers’ Pride Night.

Pelosi, who has represented San Francisco in Congress for 35 years, realizes her shot-put first pitch was hardly a spiking of the ball.

“This year, some of the challenges to the transgender community have made it even more (important) for us to take that pride,” she said as Tuesday’s game began. “People always say to me, ‘Oh, it's so easy for you because San Francisco is so tolerant.’ And I say that tolerant is almost condescending. We're not tolerant, we respect and we take pride.

“And so I think this at this time, the challenge that we face is one that insists that we take pride very vocally.”

Other fans might view the circumstances more direly.

“The gay community is under attack,” says Bob, a 60-year-old baseball fan from Reston, Virginia, who asked that his last name not be used. “I believe that. From this alleged anti-woke crowd. It’s just (expletive).

“To me, it’s always about, leave me alone. Leave other people alone. Whether it’s a woman wanting anything to do with healthcare, or a man – please stay away from my body. I’m a good citizen. I work hard. I pay my taxes. Leave me alone.”

Bob moved to Washington in 1989 and recalls that the first Pride parade he attended was a quaint affair, the participants meeting up in a parking lot before marching. In 2022, thousands poured through a 1 ½-mile route, the exuberance matched only by corporations hoping to goose their credibility with a float.

Now, he sees a landscape where a “Don’t Say Gay” law can closet youth in Florida and Texas Gov. Greg Abbott orders investigations into gender-affirming care for children. It’s enough to keep Bob from visiting a close friend in Florida, lest they get his tax dollars.

“In some areas – not around here – it’s gone backward,” says Bob, a Pennsylvania native who still has a Thurman Munson bat from his childhood. “The people of Florida need to step forward and handle that. I won’t go there. I don’t want to give that state any money. I thought I’d retire there. There ain’t no way I’m moving down there."

While this generation might be slower to boycott and perhaps enjoying the relative spoils thanks to those who paved the way, they’re also more confident, more secure, less likely to cede ground. On this night, Bradford-Roy’s quartet of friends was ready to move on, order another round and enjoy the game among 25,000 fans; the subject matter was a bit heavy for a night of fun.

Still, the modern battlefield for LGBTQ rights never really goes away. Joseph Waters, a D.C.-based pediatrician who works with gender diverse youth, knows the discrimination is nothing new – but the reaction will be.

“To attack a minoritized group based on differences is no different than it has been in history,” says Waters. “What’s different in 2023 versus 1963 versus any time before that is the silent majority is a lot less silent. People are speaking up and speaking out for people that are vulnerable in the population. Whether you’re Republican or Democrat, ideology aside, people are more willing to speak out for what they believe is right.

“The reason why we’re not going to move back to 20, 50 years is the charge to prevent that is a lot more robust than it was in the past.”

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: MLB Pride Night: LGBTQ fans want to be left alone