According to the NY State Liquor Authority, one known homosexual at a licensed premises made it “disorderly,” and drag queens were in violation of a bizarre 1845 statute that made it a crime to masquerade in NY State. The few gay bars were the center of queer social life, but were constantly raided by the NYPD. Given this hostile environment, gays were driven to meet in illicit places, like restrooms, parks, and piers (seen as further evidence of their depravity). Offenders’ names and home addresses were often printed in newspapers, leading to public humiliation and loss of livelihood. They were pursued and arrested by the NYPD (often via entrapment), and charged with solicitation, “lewd and immoral behavior,” or simply loitering. Gays were blackmailed and bashed by other men.
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While NYC had a sizable gay population, it was no safe haven. Many gays and lesbians fled to NYC, longing for community and safety. They were frequently institutionalized and subjected to shock treatment, sterilization, and even lobotomies. Gays were reviled, considered “sexual psychopaths” and insidious threats to the status quo. The first Gay Pride March was held in NYC in 1970: a time and place that were hostile to gays and lesbians. But in researching the Pride March, my thinking has shifted. I didn’t feel part of that community, or believe I would be welcomed at their party. I believed it was less about pride than pageant – swaggering leather queens, in-your-face drag queens, and, of course, the exhibitionist A-gays, bumping and grinding for the adoration of fellow Adonises. In three decades in NYC, I’ve never marched and seldom gone to watch. I’ve long been ambivalent about the Gay Pride March.