Midwestern Pride

Some thoughts while attending the Pride Parade in the home city of (uh-oh!) Bud Light

Kirk Swearingen
6 min readJul 4, 2023
St. Louis Pride marchers on Market Street, 2023. (Photo by author.)

Our younger daughter invited me to accompany her to the Pride Parade this past Sunday, saying it was especially important to show support now. My wife prevailed upon me to drop my general stodgy khaki-ness and wear the colorful pair of shorts she had gotten as a gift to upgrade my sartorial game. To top off my modestly bright ensemble, I wore my new blue St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap (a Father’s Day gift from the aforementioned daughter).

I wanted to be a good ally but not stand out too much. (I needn’t have worried.)

We were going to not just any Midwestern Pride Parade, but the one in downtown St. Louis, home of Anheuser-Busch, brewer of the once-loved now excoriated-by-the-right (let’s-shoot-‘em-up!) Bud Light. It seemed especially important to be a part of it this year, given the relentless attacks by the radical right on LGBTQ+ rights, especially those of young people dealing with very personal questions about their gender identity, which has led to increased incidents of bullying and violence against people.

With all the Trumpist-led hate out there and a heatwave sullenly moving up from Texas, I wondered how small the St. Louis PrideFest might be. I was happy to see parking wasn’t easy to find. We joined a massive crowd of people stretching for blocks and blocks along Market Street. Reportedly, more than 300,000 attendees showed up for the PrideFest weekend in the sweltering weather. Across the red state of Missouri, the PrideFest in Kansas City saw similar enthusiasm and purpose in the face of legislative attacks by the Republican-led state legislature and in other states across the country.

Standing with my daughter watching the colorful, joyous marchers in the parade being cheered on by a sea of St. Louisian humanity, I couldn’t help but wonder at the mentality of those who would be unhappy with this scene. I grew up listening to The Beatles and absorbing their peace-and-love worldview. Must there always be joy-crushing Blue Meanies (or, in real life, grifty Allen Kleins)?

But it’s no surprise, I thought, to see this kind of attendance; a vast majority of Americans — including Republicans and church-going people — support LGBTQ rights, often overwhelmingly, despite extreme-right politicians and evangelical leaders doing all they can to dehumanize people with different sexual and gender orientations.

A vast majority of Americans — including Republicans and church-going people — support LGBTQ rights, often overwhelmingly.

Great police presence today, and the men and women in uniform I encounter balance keeping a sharp eye out for trouble and presenting a genial tone of friendliness. Later, as I am leaving, I see one of St. Louis’s finest handing out colorful beads to some kids. (And, yeah, I know what the fear-mongering extremists on the right would say about that.)

Speaking of kids, it looks like a fair number of families are here today, along with all the younger people. To the un-Christian right, this amounts to “grooming” (an unfounded appeal to fear with a lengthy history), but to the rest of us, it is an example of teaching our children to love and accept others.

Close up of father, son, and daughter together at Pride parade in St. Louis. The young girl holds up a handmade colorful sign saying “If you like boys or girls your [sic] still the same person.”

As for the corporations sponsoring and participating in the event, their thinking seems straightforward and logical: people in the LGBTQ+ community are our customers, our employees, and something else besides…oh, yes: citizens.

Backed by the awesome Gateway Arch and moving out Market Street toward the end of the route just short of historic Union Station came wave after wave of marchers and floats by the stalwarts of the St. Louis corporate and healthcare community: Edward Jones (handing out colorful beverage koozies emblazoned “Love Fully, Live Fully”), Bayer, Purina (with an impressive float), Enterprise, U.S. Bank, BJC Healthcare and — hey, A.B., not standing down a bit, with a Bud Light Seltzer float and about 30 employees marching along. (I missed it, but when my daughter told me I thought, “Good on them.” She said the crowd loved it.)

Reportedly, there was an organized counter-protest at the St. Louis event, but it was limited to a certain area. I didn’t hear any booing or negative comments when the corporate floats and employees or politicians (including Mayor Tishaura Jones and Rep. Cori Bush) were passing by.

Colorful photo of the writer with his younger daughter at Pride parade with American flag flying, between extended ladders of two fire trucks, in a blue sky behind them. Photo credit is to “a fellow citizen.”
A writer with his younger daughter. (Photo by a fellow citizen.)

Interviewed by William Brangham on the PBS Newshour, Bob Witeck, who has consulted with companies for decades on LGBTQ+ marketing, said that the backlash against corporations has largely been manufactured: “We are in a moment, but the backlash we are witnessing is hardly spontaneous or authentic or organic. It’s primarily instigated backlash. The feigned indignation, for example, against one beer was a calculated tactic, and it was used by anti-woke provocateurs, frankly, who had political agendas.” He went on to say that American Airlines faced this kind of backlash about 30 years ago when right-wing groups attacked them for supporting gay rights. But the company stood its ground. “They wanted to shame and frighten American Airlines out of the market, and they failed.”

And, indeed, it is a coordinated, instigated backlash.

Those Buds may be light, but they’ve become weighted with meaning. A few days after I attended the parade, Anheuser-Busch U.S. CEO Brendan Whitworth, interviewed on CBS Mornings, reiterated the company’s longstanding support for the LGBTQ community but when asked if the campaign with the transgender influencer was a mistake, he refused to take the bait and merely spoke with great deliberation about the need to also support employees and distributors and others involved in the supply chain who have faced boycotts and even threats. (It was interesting to learn that Whitworth served both in the Marines and the CIA.)

The Southern Poverty Law Center provides a brief history of anti-LGTBQ efforts by fundamentalists and others on the right, “History of the Anti-Gay Movement Since 1977.” It’s worth reading, if only to understand that the Christian right is anything but Christian, or right.

My daughter met up with some friends, and it was time for the oldster to go. I wandered off, as I tend to do at various rallies, to see more of the crowd and take photos. Passing by the recently refurbished Soldiers Memorial, I read words by President Franklin D. Roosevelt engraved on a low wall, and they resonated with what was happening on Market Street that day:

The Essence of Our Struggle Is Men Shall Be Free.

Am I going too far in connecting those who died in service to their country with the struggle of the LGBTQ community? Well, no. Gay men have served in the military since time immemorial. Their experience in what was generally known then as the Great War would not only produce some of its most famous poetry (such as “The Soldier,” by Rupert Brooke, or “Absolution,” by Siegfried Sassoon) but also their demand for equal rights at home. The fight against the Nazi regime in the Second World War was also a blow, albeit unwitting, against state-sponsored hatred and murder of gays, lesbians, and transgendered people. The right for everyone to pursue their version of happiness, free of religious or political persecution, is what I think most Americans agree defines this country — and all countries that wish to be considered civilized.

Republican politicians may talk the day through about “freedom,” but their words are as meaningless to many citizens as the American flag pin they cynically sport on the lapel of their bespoke suits.

Low wall by St. Louis Soldiers Memorial enscribed “The Essence of Our Struggle Is That Men Shall Be Free — Franklin Delano Roosevelt.”

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Kirk Swearingen

Half a lifetime ago, Kirk Swearingen graduated from the University of Missouri’s School of Journalism. His work has most recently appeared in Salon.