We left for Northampton’s Pride March with the typical hubbub of mama’s-taking-too-long-at-the-last-minute-and-papa’s-understandably-annoyed . Good to have family traditions, huh? We stepped out with a close family friend, and three of our kids (five, nine and twelve weeks; our twelve year-old had to forgo Pride for ballet rehearsal). The weather, although overcast and cool, didn’t put a damper on us.

Walking up our street, I asked the five year-old—who remembered fetching tossed handfuls of candy and eating Purple Pride ice cream best—why we march. He wasn’t sure. I explained, “It’s about families with two moms, a mom and a dad, two dads, one dad, one mom, all being great for kids.” He topped me, of course. “Or 99 dads!” he exclaimed.

In our town, Pride—commencing with Dykes on Bikes and sporting floats and people waving from pick-up truck beds—acts much like other towns’ Fourth of July celebrations do, the rainbow banner our flag of choice, friendly, cheering crowds lining Main Street, wafting street fair scents (grilled meat, fried food). Sure, attendance swells with sunny weather and falls off a bit when it’s gray. But the event—by year 27—has solidity; its heft is comprised of tradition and shared sense of purpose. It’s almost impossible to recall the early days, when menacing protesters practically outnumbered marchers. I was in college, then, and I remember feeling afraid and feeling brave simply for showing up. Courage seems less at the forefront now because the mood is so celebratory. And I still notice something different each year. This year for example, the prevalence of faith groups from nearly every denomination was notable, in such sharp contrast to those religious protesters from so many years ago. And schools: long ago, college students participated in Pride. Over time, some high schools joined in. These days, even elementary schools and middle schools are represented. Sure, queer parents have marched for years, but not always with their kids’ schools. A snippet from a longer chant behind us voiced by the Amherst High School Gay Straight Alliance: “2 4 6 8, don’t assume your kids are straight!” Comfort and acceptance offers room for more ease, simple as that.

My kids, familiar with Pride, scampered after brightly colored necklaces and bite-sized pieces of equally bright-hued candies. They waved at friends, regarded the drag queens, and marched along until we reached the rally site and lunchtime. They liked the music, loved the Pad Thai, and enjoyed playing with friends. In short, Pride equals good fun, regardless of any underlying rationale for attending.

Earlier in the week I’d heard about an experiment in Alabama where two men sat on a bench and kissed to see what would happen. Beyond stares, one woman called 9-1-1, because two men kissing—to her mind—represented an emergent situation, and even more disturbing a crime that could, well more so, should , be stopped. I thought of that factoid while I marched. Where can you find comfort and acceptance? Not on an Alabama bench, that’s for sure. Closer to home, there’s so much distance to travel: on the one hand, I thought of friends facing heartbreakingly difficult and legally tenuous custody situations; on the other hand, I recalled the incredible sense of joy that permeated my friends’ wedding a few summers ago. Not only was the sheer beauty of their longstanding love honored, further, there was palpable relief from their extended family constellation with the realization that it was okay—in the state of Massachusetts, but really in a much grander sense—to affirm this romance. Truly, there wasn’t a dry eye to be found. 

I hope my kids always know that 99 dads—while a lot of dads—can be terrific. Families are not all the same. In each, we can find ways someone falls just outside the “norm” (nothing sacred about the “norm”). Over time, that message of we’re not all exactly the same seems so basic as to want to ignore it. But we can’t. Not while our ability to honor and protect every family isn’t nearly secure. And that’s why I love our town’s emblematic rainbow flag and more so its rainbow spirit, which affirms these equations: love is love, and love makes families.