The Philadelphia Dyke March exists as one of the most esteemed gatherings of LGBTQ members and allies in the state of Pennsylvania. This event morphs the city’s expression of being one of “brotherly love” into the opposite gender. Despite the event’s warm invitation to any and all queers and supporters, it exists primarily to give the lesbians of Philadelphia a voice.
Now, I am not a Dyke March virgin. This year has acted as round two of my initiation into the Philadelphia Dyke March community. Being a Dyke March veteran, it’s more than safe to say I felt welcomed to return with open arms.
After being rallied into Kahn Park on 11th Street, entertained by lesbian musicians, exotic dancers and lovely lady MCs all while chowing down on free water ice, I began to realize the beautiful atmosphere I had inserted myself into. Looking over the sea of boi haircuts, I had never felt more safe and secure in my personal identity. Acceptance resembled clouds on a sunny day in this moment: It hung in the air without much call for attention until you look up. Then you begin to notice the rays of light shining through and illuminating a part of you that laid dormant, right under your nose. It was a beautiful moment.
Even more beautiful was the initiation of the march. Event workers and staff joined together on stage. With solemn yet nostalgic expressions on their faces, they began to mourn the loss of their beloved friend and co-creator of the Philadelphia Dyke March, Gloria Casarez. They discussed Gloria’s role in society as well as her role in creating the Philadelphia Dyke March. Most importantly, they discussed her role as friend of the community. They played audio clips in commemoration of Gloria and proceeded to observe a moment of silence in her honor. This brief but meaningful silence was abruptly ended, however, with the commencement of the march. Everyone was told by the ushers to pick up a drum, a sign or just themselves and take to the streets.
We began to chant collectively powerful cheers such as “The dykes united will never be divided!” And “Two, four, six, eight, how do you know your kid is straight?” As we marched, the faces of gawking bystanders smiled and cheered us.
Eventually, we stormed past City Hall, all the while being cheered on. Upon returning to Kahn Park after a long hike through the marvelous city of Philadelphia, a feeling of fulfillment had washed over me. As I stood there with my closest cronies, sweat pouring down my back and adrenaline rushing through my veins, I was content. I was glad that this event gave me, among many other dykes, the opportunity to showcase homosexuality in a safe and successful way. Having been blessed with this opportunity, I can safely say that there is no doubt that I will be returning to the annual Philadelphia Dyke March for many years to come.
Rachel Levin is a Philadelphia native and a junior at Abington High School.