The San Francisco LGBT Community Center contracted an executive producer for this year's Pink Saturday street party, but the way the center – and producer Eliote Durham – responded to our questions was unprofessional and shows a lack of respect for the LGBT community.
First is the issue of how Durham identifies. We ask this question of almost everyone we interview, from politicians to activists, from parents to kids, from cops to lawyers. "How do you identify?" It's a pretty straightforward question and we ask it so that our readers will know if someone is out and proud or a straight ally. Coming out is central to our identity as LGBT people. Harvey Milk spoke to the power of coming out so we need not be ashamed and know that we are not alone but in fact are everywhere in society. As an LGBT media outlet, we cover the community with this principle in mind. It doesn't do any good to dance around the issue – and we don't. As long as there are people in the world who want to discriminate against, outlaw, or kill us, it's relevant to come out and identify ourselves publicly. Another question we ask regularly is someone's age. That's just standard journalistic practice.
Apparently, Durham couldn't be bothered with answering such basic questions, and community center Executive Director Rebecca Rolfe gave her a pass, telling us that Durham's age and sexual orientation "are not relevant to her ability to produce the event."
We disagree because it provides relevant background information that our readers want to know. While age may not be quite as important, her sexual orientation is part of the story as the producer of a gay party in the gay Castro district on the eve of Pride weekend. Pink Saturday is an LGBT event, period. It's welcoming of everyone – gay or straight – and has a long-standing relationship with the Dyke March, which ends in the Castro right around the time the party starts. But at its core it's a celebration of LGBT Pride on the eve of one of the largest Pride parades in the world.
That doesn't necessarily mean a straight woman can't produce Pink Saturday or whatever name it will be called (the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, which owns the rights to the name, haven't decided whether the center can use it). But it doesn't mean that the information is irrelevant. Instead of her non-answer, Durham should have been upfront with us and said, "Look, I'm not gay but I'm a straight ally. I've been to Pink Saturday before. I've produced other large outdoor events. I'm planning to employ a lot of folks from the LGBT community and this will be a gay event." Fine, no problem.
At least one person who will be assisting with Pink Saturday is gay, Billy Picture, who said that Durham brought him on the production team. He also has experience producing the Castro Street Fair, another large outdoor event. Fine, no problem.
As for the community center: it touts its economic development programs as one of its strengths, unfortunately it could not find an LGBT producer. We realize event producers need a specific skill set, but count us surprised that the center couldn't find someone with whom it already works or is from the community.
There are also unanswered questions about the cost for this year's event, which Rolfe said will be more than the $80,000 the Sisters spent last year. The city is footing at least part of the bill, but the total amount is not yet known. The center also needs sponsorships to help underwrite the cost (presumably different ones than are sponsoring Pride). We're wondering why the city couldn't just have provided funding to the Sisters in the first place, since they've been producing and paying for Pink Saturday all along. They were at a point where city support might have made a difference in overcoming the recent challenges.
It's clear that there must be some sort of organized street party on the Saturday night before Pride. With the likelihood of a U.S. Supreme Court decision on same-sex marriage, organizers are anticipating a larger-than-normal turnout in the Castro. And we can't blame the Sisters for deciding not to produce the event this year. Alone, they've done a great job on a shoestring budget for nearly two decades, but the last few years have been marred by violence, including one of their own getting beat up in 2014.
While other cities have large outdoor events for the LGBT community, it's baffling that San Francisco, which shut down Halloween several years ago, struggles to keep such events safe and fun.
Durham and Rolfe said that they'll be meeting with stakeholders, including residents and merchants from the Castro, as well as those who have "deep experience" with Pink Saturday and similar large events. And we want to give them the benefit of the doubt. But it's hard to do that when Durham can't be open about who she is, and Rolfe says, oh, that information is irrelevant.
There are less than 100 days until Pride weekend. We hope Durham will indeed listen to those who have experience with Pink Saturday, and find a way to keep the crowd entertained.