To mark the 48th annual LA Pride, Steven Martin and Jennicet Gutiérrez sit down at the Black Cat in Silver Lake—the site of the 1967 LGBTQ protests against police mistreatment—to discuss how far the movement has come. Martin is a 28-year-old health-care advocate for the Los Angeles LGBT Center and Health Access California. Gutiérrez, 31, an undocumented immigrant and member of the Familia: Trans Queer Liberation Movement, notably interrupted President Obama to call for an end to the detainment of LGBTQ immigrants. This is Martin and Gutiérrez’s conversation.
Jennicet Gutiérrez: It’s important to note where this conversation is taking place. It was where our community was coming together to be themselves.
Steven Martin: To celebrate. To kiss each other.
JG: To find a safe space. The police were harassing us until the community said, “We have to do something about this abuse.”
SM: I just got arrested in Congress. It was the tax fight, which undermines the entire Affordable Care Act. This was the biggest affront to my ability to access health care—and for future generations. They weren’t gonna tell my story, so I was taken away in handcuffs.
JG: That echoes back to Pride. Disruption and acts of civil disobedience have been part of the movement. People put their bodies on the line. During the AIDS crisis, storming Congress…
SM: Storming the 10 freeway.
JG: Acting up, throwing fake blood—disruption and civil disobedience have always been key to progress. I think L.A. and California in general always send a message to the rest of the nation. But there’s still this disconnect. There’s groups of people working on different issues; it’s very difficult for us to really come together.
SM: I think subtle, silent apathy led to us all being slow to react, and then we got slapped in the face with Trump. We start having to scream out our issues, because the issues are so broad and vast.
JG: I always remind myself I am leading a legacy of resistance for trans women of color. Even with the national backlash of being called rude and disrespectful [for interrupting Obama], I will not let you discourage me from fighting for a better world.
SM: My first Pride, I was a senior in high school. I had come out of the closet the summer before. At first it was like, Oh my god, there are so many gay people. I look at Pride now as this connective experience of being able to be visible and to talk about issues, to give a new narrative to yourself.
JG: Pride, to me, is an act of resistance. [At my first Pride] I felt comfortable, liberated. We need to be in control; we need to be loud. Part of the resistance has to be joyful, too. Steven, you bring a very key element—that intergenerational view is critical. How do we transfer the information to the youth? Pride is a revolutionary act that we’re sending…
SM: And dictating the narrative.
JG: Pride shows that another world is possible—that, even in these circumstances, we can still get together and find a way to celebrate ourselves. But we can’t forget that the original Pride was a radical act of rebellion against the abuses of police. What happened here at the Black Cat—historical moments have been a reminder to the larger movement that there are still people being incarcerated.
SM: I was 26 when I was diagnosed with leukemia. My activism is a legacy that’s going to live a lot longer than me. We got [the drug-pricing transparency law] passed last year. I was part of fighting for that.
JG: I think that’s so powerful that you’re aware of the impact you’re having on future generations, the legacy that has to continue.
SM: When you’re 18, you don’t necessarily know the backstory of the whole LGBT experience. But if you tap into your history, no matter your background, accessing that sense of rage and rebellion against a system that is oppressive is necessary for our representation and the survival and continuation of our people.
Photograph: Rozette Rago
LA Pride takes place June 9, 10 in West Hollywood Park.