Khafre Abif; Atlanta, Ga.
I was a part of a group of LGBTQ Black college students who decided to go to Washington, D.C., for the Memorial Holiday weekend back in 1989. Then it was a few small gatherings of the "children," and we carried on for filth. At that time I was still so closeted but felt safe with a group of men I called my friends from Florida A&M University. I had no idea nor did we plan for what that holiday would turn out to be years later.
I watched my first Pride parade in New York City. I watched in amazement as thousands of people marched and rode on floats for miles down the middle of Manhattan. This was in 1996; I was already diagnosed with HIV but still in a mental space of bondage. I was married, and my son was almost 3 years old. ... I stood there watching float after float and group after group thinking, "How brave these people are."
It wasn't until 2009 that I marched in a Pride parade. I found my freedom and led the first group to follow the Grand Marshal in Pittsburgh Pride. In 2011 I lent my voice to the Augusta, Georgia PSA. Yes, I am late to the party, but I am here now!
AdvertisementRead Khafre's full story of his "late arrival" to the Pride party.