I felt it immediately. The ‘scarlet letter’, Chris Parks called it. When I first traded my yellow v-neck on Tuesday for a pink ‘How Will You Be a Bridge’ shirt, it was as if I had traded in my privilege as a heterosexual-enough-looking male for my new assumed identity as ‘one of them’.
As a bisexual, biracial individual, I’ve had a lifetime of experience trying to find intersections between two camps and negotiating my identity in that space. Some perceive my ability to identify with multiple contexts a privilege; to myself though, it has always felt like a curse that affected my capacity to feel as if I truly belonged anywhere.
Wearing pink, then, was just another experiment in ‘switching camps’.
“I’m praying for you,” said a middle-aged gentleman, in a ‘I’m praying for your soul’ kind of way, not an ‘I’m sending good energy towards you’ kind of way. Only the day before, he had smiled at me in a we’re-so-happy-to-have-different-skin-colored-people-that-can-speak-English-and-act-white way.
More hurtful than the occasional glares or careless remarks directed towards the pink, though, is the silence. Read more ›


