“We didn’t come here just to advocate for one group,” Baum said. “These days, you can’t.” Organizers with Boston Pride For The People said the theme of this year’s Pride parade and festival was “Here to Stay,” a message “of resilience and defiance in the face of increased political attacks on LGBTQIA+ Communities and People.” The political nature of this year’s Pride parade and festival aligned with the demonstrations against the Trump White House, as the Pride celebration and “No Kings” protest effectively melded into one large event, which was peaceful. Boston police reported no incidents or arrests related to the celebration and protest as of about 5 p.m. Saturday. Since returning to the White House in January, Trump has signed off on executive orders that banned transgender people from serving in the military and transgender women from competing in women’s sports . In April, the National Park Service scrubbed information related to the LGBTQ+ history of Boston from its website, including articles on LGBTQ activism at Faneuil Hall and a self-guided historical tour of the city. “He’s trying to wipe out our society — gay, lesbian, trans,” said Stacey Orlando, 66, one of the attendees of Boston’s Pride dressed in a tie-dye rainbow dress with a cap and tie to match. “This is like one big huge party that happens once a year,” Orlando said. “I think it’s great that we finally get the freedom we’ve been looking for all this time and finally it’s time to celebrate.” Another attendee, May Hilaire, said, “It’s all about love and glitter.” She grinned at her partner, Jill Sylvester. “We can kiss in public without people glaring at us,” she said. The massive crowd filled the street as they marched from Copley Square to Boston Common under rainbow flags flapping in the breeze as the Pride parade began amid a light rainfall on a cloudy, overcast morning in the city. The march looped down toward the South End before making its way back to Boylston Street and then onto the Common, where the party continued with live performances, food trucks, and vendors. On the Common, the rainbow-clad crowds grew despite rain drizzling on multicolored umbrellas as a bass-heavy electronic dance beat thrummed from a stage. Many held signs that leaned toward protest. “Rise up and resist,” one read. “Hate will not make us great,” and “uphold the constitution,” said others. Pride attendees and protesters at the “No Kings” rally said the events symbolized two sides of the same coin: LGBTQ individuals and their allies rallying for a more pluralistic, liberal society, which went hand in hand with protests of the Trump administration’s actions. In many instances at the demonstration and parade Saturday, pride and protest existed in the same person. Such was the case with Neil Lasky, a gay man from Boston who walked down the middle of the street between two parade units holding a “Queens Not Kings” sign. He’d been a little unsure about combining the parade and the protest, but he’d made peace with it, said Lasky, who declined to give an age other than “older than time.” It’s not his first Pride parade. “This is all about freedom — for gay people, for trans people, for immigrants,” he said. “The United States is about freedom, but this administration is just taking it away.” Meanwhile, people kept stopping Mike Zarin to take a picture of his sign, which read “Big Beautiful Bill is my drag name.” On the other side, it said “My trans daughter is a geologist, and she rocks.” “I was really glad that I could protest both” for his kids who identify as queer and against Trump, said Zarin, 54, of Natick. These causes are linked, he said, because the current Trump administration is “exhibiting so much cruelty,” both over LGBT issues and in terms of cutting funding for those in need. Still, the parade and ensuing festival had all the hallmarks of a typical Pride celebration: rainbow flags, people in heavy makeup and sparkles, ever-enterprising vendors hawking little flags and other multicolored doodads. White tents containing booths for advocacy organizations, media companies, and artisans lined many of the common’s paths. Cat Ladd, 23, and Lenox Bragg, 22, stood in a circle of friends, barely able to stand still as they grinned ear to ear. “The vibes were immaculate,” Ladd said. It was her first Pride event, and she’d painted little rainbow flags on her cheeks. “People never stopped cheering,” she said. “People were going full out.” As the afternoon wore on, a protest contingent coalesced at the Parkman Bandstand, just far enough from the center of the Pride festivities for their chant of “Hey hey ho ho Donald Trump has got to go” to be heard over booming bass. Kelsey Grunstra, deputy director of the Massachusetts Transgender Political Coalition, spent the afternoon fielding questions from transgender and cisgender Pride attendees who came up to her table on the Common. “For so many queer and trans people, it can be really scary to go out into the world,” said Grunstra. Grunstra pointed to the Trump administration’s federal funding cuts to gender-affirming hospital care and research, as well as its restrictions on changing gender markers on federal documents, as examples of harm to trans people. “For many of us as trans folks in this work, it’s just more urgent than ever,” she said. In addition to the parade and festival, the celebration featured a block party at City Hall Plaza for attendees over the age of 21. More than 500 people gathered to dance and enjoy local food vendors. A large rainbow stage featured go-go dancers and DJs. Grace Murphy, 27, and Jack Rischitelli, 26, attended the block party and hoped to soak in the joy of the local queer community. “It just brings people from all different communities in Boston to kind of celebrate and have some queer joy in this kind of depressing, dark time for our administration,” Murphy said. At the edge of the Pride carnival on the Common, Melissa Casella and her partner, Scott Wilson, were running the “Validation Station,” a small canopy under which they offered “mom and dad hugs.” They weren’t with any organization, Casella said, but they have kids who identify as queer, and “we’ve seen what unconditional love can do.” As she spoke, someone came up and embraced Wilson. “Kids collapse on your shoulder,” said Casella, 54, of Melrose. “A lot of these kids don’t get this at home, and everyone needs it.” Madison Roberts, a 20-year-old from Revere who identifies as gay, said she regularly attends the Boston Pride parade and festival. Having this year’s celebration come alongside the protests against the Trump administration simply made sense, she said. “Whether we’re here for Pride or protests, we all want the same thing,” she said. Globe correspondents Nathan Metcalf and Maria Probert contributed to this report. Material from the Associated Press was also used.
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