Placer Pride became a joyful antidote to the rise in local and national homophobia | Opinion

On a recent, warm spring day, at Roseville’s Royer Park, several groups of parents escorted shy kids decked out in rainbow tutus and glitter to meet drag performers Valshapero, Shadybee and Adriana Diamond. The queens -- their faces full of make-up and dressed for the occasion from head to toe - - smiled and waved.

“It’s nice for them to see that queer people aren’t scary,” said Valshapero, while wearing white, knee-high boots and a handmade purple and blue romper. “We’re just people.”

I was genuinely nervous to attend Placer’s second-ever Pride event. Given the tense political climate, both locally and nationally, compounded with the very real presence of Proud Boys and other extremist groups at local school board meetings as well as threats of violence made against LGBTQ+ folks and their supporters, I was fearful that the event would be targeted.

I was grateful to be wrong.

Opinion

The mood at Placer Pride was festive and joyful, and there seemed to be a collective sigh of relief that the event went smoothly. A rectangle of tables and booths was set up in the park, with a stage and chairs at the forefront. Hundreds of people decked out in rainbow attire, including dozens of children, talked, laughed, took pictures and ate shaved ice until their tongues turned green. Even leashed dogs wore colorful collars and Pride-themed bandanas for the occasion.

To kick off the May 20 event, Roseville City Councilman Scott Alvord and Mayor Bruce Houdesheldt welcomed the crowd.

“Congratulations on your second annual Placer Pride event,” Houdesheldt said. “Our city has prioritized making our community a welcoming place for all, … (and) welcoming you here today is part of that emphasis.”

Near the park stage, Roseville High School students Atlas Morales, Rory Vasquez and Danny Buckmaster excitedly welcomed visitors who stopped by their table. The teens were sharing information about their school’s Gay-Straight Alliance, of which they are all members. Mariah Carey’s “Hero” played at full blast on the stage speakers as the three talked about feeling both accepted and rejected by the greater Placer community.

“The community is really accepting, except in Old Roseville, where I live,” said Vasquez, who is transgender. “There, a lot of people have Critical Race Theory yard posts, and ... people have full-on Trump flags.”

“We have our safe places,” he said. “But it’s a struggle.”

Community fears

To understand what Placer Pride means for the county’s LGBTQ+ residents, you have to understand what the community has been through over the past two months.

In early March, a drag show that was set to take place at Roseville High School was canceled when local conservative and religious groups pressured the Roseville Joint Union High School District (RJUHSD) to halt the event. After receiving hateful and threatening messages, event organizers at The Landing Spot, Placer County’s only peer support group for LGBTQ+ people, decided not to reschedule the event.

“I was outraged,” said Vasquez, who is also president of Roseville High School’s GSA. “We were all distraught about it.”

At the March 9 RJUHSD school board meeting, dozens of parents and community members spoke about the drag show during public comment. Some speakers, like local parent Michelle Derby, likened drag to “pedophilia,” which is a blatantly false accusation.

Others, like Auburn’s Sierra Foothills Unitarian Universalist Rev. Alex da Silva Souto, spoke at the meeting in support of the drag show.

“My church and I are extremely worried that religious fanaticism and neo-fascism seem to be making their way in our county by eroding the democratic and pluralistic fabric of our communities,” da Silva Souto said. “Many (LGBTQ+) students are terrorized on a daily basis simply because they are truthful and honest about who they are.”

Some students have said that they feel unsafe at their Placer County school.

“I’m prepared to be hate-crimed every day,” Morales, 16, said.

“I’ve been called the f-slur before,” Vasquez said. “And I know a lot of the kids in our group have as well.”

Project Veritas

In late March, Landing Spot’s founder, Loomis UCC Pastor Casey Tinnin, was the victim of an elaborate scheme perpetrated by Project Veritas, a far-right activist group known for taking secret recordings and deceptively editing them to push their conservative agenda.

In a heavily edited video that has received 1.8 million views on Twitter, the pastor talks with two individuals who he had been led to believe were the parents of a transgender teen. Tinnin, who is openly gay, was recorded without consent by the two, who are associated with Project Veritas.

In the video, Tinnin says he has called Placer County’s Child Protective Services in instances where parents refuse to use a transgender child’s preferred name or pronouns, and says that the Landing Spot’s partnership with RJUHSD schools is used to refer LGBTQ+ students to his organization’s meetings, sometimes without parental knowledge or consent.

Project Veritas labeled Tinnin a “groomer,” and local school districts in the county, including RJUHSD, subsequently cut ties with The Landing Spot after the video went online, despite the critical community group providing some of the only safe spaces available to Placer’s LGBTQ+ youth. Tinnin said he received numerous death threats; a member of the Proud Boys, a white supremacist hate group, showed up outside his home; and his church, Loomis UCC, received a bomb threat.

“He’s a very sweet man,” said Vasquez, who has worked alongside Tinnin in the past. “He’s worked really hard to make sure that we all feel safe and comfortable.”

The actions taken by local school officials to distance themselves from and even cancel LGBTQ-friendly events and organizations coincides with the recent rise of homophobic and transphobic rhetoric and anti-LGBTQ legislation across the nation. The current 2023 legislative session alone has seen 491 anti-LGBTQ bills, according to the American Civil Liberties Union.

Bigotry

While California remains a bastion of inclusivity and a champion for LGBTQ+ rights, in conservative pockets of the state, like Placer County, bigotry remains prevalent on school campuses, in public meetings, in religious institutions and among elected leaders.

Da Silva Souto said his church’s Pride flag has been vandalized numerous times, and he admitted that he had been nervous to attend Placer’s Pride celebration.

“When there’s a concentration of us in one place, the target and threat of violence are greater,” the reverend said. “There are people out there with plans to harm and hurt, and that’s always in the back of our minds. But we’re not going to live in fear 24/7.”

Glimmer of hope

The success of Placer Pride is an antidote to homophobia and transphobia in our political culture

Under the shade of one of Royer Park’s large trees, a poster board was filled with messages of hope from Pride attendees: “Keep true to you”; “Love yourself”; “You are loved”; “Keep on slaying”; “This mama loves you all. You rock.”

Auburn’s Bethlehem Lutheran Church Pastor Ron Valadez, who grew up in Vacaville, said the community is getting better when it comes to inclusion of the LGBTQ+ community, but “there’s frustration that it’s not happening fast enough.”

Despite this, Valadez said, “we’re going to keep fighting the good fight.”