Thanks For The Hashtag: Thoughts on Pride Month
So you uploaded a rainbow version of your logo for pride month? Thanks! But what about some real, tangible allyship too?
When I was growing up, I’d have killed for a rainbow.
A little flag in a window, a pin badge on a lapel, a sticker in a shopfront. Just something, anything, that said "you are seen, and you are welcome here". I was a queer kid in a world where the word “gay” was still thrown around as an insult in the school corridor. Where teachers stayed silent, if not complicit. Where Section 28 still ruled with an iron fist and an even more iron lady.
So when I say that visibility matters, I mean it. Pride flags matter. Language matters. Representation matters. But here’s the thing: doing it right matters more.
Because in 2025, rainbow visibility isn’t rare anymore. It’s monetised. It’s templated. It’s popped on a T-shirt or a sandwich box and rolled out with the same hashtags as last year. And increasingly, it rings hollow.
Not always. But too often.
Performative allyship is easy to spot, if you know what you’re looking for.
It’s the bank that changes its logo in June, but funds anti-LGBTQ+ politicians year-round. It’s the company that runs a “Meet Our LGBTQ+ Employees” campaign without actually protecting and championing those employees' rights. It’s the school that lets kids paint rainbows for display, then disciplines them for tyring to pee in the right toilet for them.
It’s safe, corporate, empty allyship, and queer people see right through it.
Because real allyship? That’s messy. It’s hard. And it costs you something.
It looks like:
- Listening when someone tells you your words hurt — and changing them.
- Hiring queer people and paying them fairly, especially trans people and people of colour.
- Interrupting homophobic jokes, even when they’re “just banter.”
- Sharing the stage. Ceding space. Admitting you got it wrong, and learning out loud.
Allyship is a verb, not a brand value.
That means showing up even when it’s inconvenient, uncomfortable, or not particularly aesthetic.
Look. I don’t want to close the door on people trying. It's important that effort is being made. I remember the first rainbow I saw in public. I remember the first friend who told me they’d have my back no matter what. I remember the power of feeling invited in when so much of the world had shut me out.
That matters. That still matters.
So yes, wave the progress flag. Hang the bunting. Share the post.
But then, do more.
Raise your voice when someone’s rights are under threat. Sign the petition. Challenge the policy. Educate yourself. Ask how you can help, and be prepared to actually put the effort in once you know the answer.
Pride isn’t a marketing campaign, it’s a protest. And a celebration. And an act of sacred defiance.
It’s built, every year, by a community who are still here, still fighting, still dancing, still loving.
If you want to be an ally, a real one, then join us. Dance with us. March alongside us. Not just in June. But every time it counts.
Because in this world? We all need each other.
