Defiant joy looks like: …wide, open faces stretched into glowing smiles, lit by determination. …a vibrant spectrum of people, from very young to long-seasoned adult, cheering and shouting with every passing banner. …arcs of colorful balloons, streets strewn with leis and flag fragments. …a quarter-mile of humanity all along the road to show their support for the belief that every individual deserves to live authentically and openly.
That is what I saw at the Long Island Pride Parade.
For the second year in a row, I had the honor of marching, representing TBE. This year, it felt essential to “show up” – perhaps even more than last year – particularly in light of the positions taken by our current President, his administration, and several U.S. states. Plus, as a member of the clergy, I felt it was especially important to be visible.
At a Pride Flag-raising ceremony the day before the parade, one of the event’s founders announced the theme for this year: Defiant Joy. The small crowd outside the Heckscher Museum roared in approval – and so did I, internally. I understood “defiance.” But “joy”? That felt harder to grasp.
Not much these days fuels joy. The images of cruel immigration enforcement turn my stomach. The war raging now between Israel and Iran sets me further on edge. Antisemitism – too often cloaked as anti-Zionism – keeps many of us in the Jewish community feeling vigilant and uneasy. And the tragic, high-profile deaths of a Minnesota state representative and her husband have left me grieving a vision of our country and world that currently feels so far out of reach. Joy? Not exactly.
But then…we turned the corner onto Main Street in Huntington.
And as our TBE delegation stepped onto the main parade route, I saw it. I heard it. I felt it. Defiant Joy. Lining both sides of the road was a sea of humanity – strong, warm, and powerfully supportive. The air was filled with palpable energy along with laughter, cheers, and applause. Two of our own young people, Julia and Lauren Kellerman, led the way, rallying the crowd with their loud voices and spirit. Rainbow colors swirled everywhere – on shirts, on hats, on faces. Signs declared pride, resilience, and the unwavering commitment to be fully, openly oneself – gay, lesbian, transgender, queer, bisexual, and beyond.
I am deeply grateful to the 28 members of Temple Beth El who joined our marching group. The passion of LGBTQ+ individuals and allies who made a point to stand up and be counted inspires me. Your presence gives me hope.
The prophet Micah famously said, “Every person shall sit beneath their vine and fig tree, and none shall make them afraid.” We continue to pray for that day to come. Until then – we march. And we do so with defiant joy.