I attended the first ever gay pride parade in Lithuania on Saturday. I attended because I believe that everyone should have the right to love who they want openly and without fear. Paraphrasing the presenters, love is a basic human right and it should be treated as such.

We didn’t take the bus to the event and as we walked toward the Forum Palace, people kept making comments to us as they passed, one of which was loosely translated for me as “I am going to strangle you.”

It is pretty easy to brush off comments made as you walk quickly by another person, but once we got near the Forum Palace, I began to feel seriously terrified. As a person who has been done violence by skinheads in Lithuania, walking through such a large group of them and people that obviously support them was nearly enough to make me turn away.

We made it through to the gates without incident, although there was a small detour when a friend and I panicked. We hadn’t registered for the parade (stupid, I know, but the instructions for how to participate, and even if the event was going to take place, were really confusing), so we were making plans to go home when we met up with a group of women from Sweden who were here on an art field trip and had planned on attending the parade.

They gave us their passes, because they felt that we should attend because we live in Vilnius. In the chaos we didn’t get their email or other contact information, so, ladies, if you are reading: thank you. Thank you so much for giving us the opportunity to participate.

Once we got in, the presence of more than a few police in full riot gear was a little disconcerting, but the party was clearly in full swing. It is difficult to put into words how great it feels to move through a wall of hatred and anger, and then to be let loose into a group of people singing and dancing, waving flags and smiling at each other. I was tasked with holding the rainbow flag, and I stood next to a Spanish woman here on an exchange program, a Lithuanian woman, and a few of my friends who study with me at Vilnius University.

It took a while for the parade to start, but the mood was generally festive, and there was certainly a lot to see. One of the things that surprised me was the large and visible anarchist group that was there, waving their flags around. As an aging punk rocker with some time spent in an anarchist collective back home, just knowing that they are here somewhere makes me feel like I belong just a little more in Vilnius.

Once the parade got started, my view was a bit limited. I could see a crowd in front of us and behind, and hear lots of whistles blowing and music being played all around me. I couldn’t believe the number of photographers that attended the event. It seemed like there were as many photographers as police, at least from where we were.

I couldn’t see the hundreds of police or thousands of onlookers, supporters, and protesters that were lining the hills and streets surrounding the parade; the only thing that was really clear across the river was the giant cross being supported by one or two lonely-looking people.

The only really tense moment was when there was smoke at the end of the parade route and the mounted police took off toward it like something big was happening. It cleared, and the parade continued to the stage, where we were told, simply, “don’t go near the river, there’s nothing interesting over there”, which was the only crowd control that I heard all day, apart from being told to kneel down so that we could do the wave. Once on the grass we danced our flag through the crowd, and settled near the stage to hear speeches.

Of the speeches, I can say that everyone was overwhelmingly positive about the event. They thanked the mayor of Vilnius, the higher courts for overturning the ban, and especially the police for making sure that the event would be safe for everyone that was involved. People spoke of love, tolerance, and healing.  All of the organizers, diplomats, delegates, and helpers seemed genuinely glad to be there and to support the growth of tolerance in Lithuania and worldwide.

After we had been bussed to the hotel and given the all clear to go home, we went to get a coffee and discuss the event. Along the way, we were getting snippets of the news, and this was the first real exposure we got to what was happening outside the walls of the event.

“An MP was arrested for climbing over the wall”, “there was a group at the Cathedral praying for the marchers, and the priest called homosexuals retards”, and “20 people arrested, some of them with bombs.”

It wasn’t an exhaustive list of the things that had happened, but it was enough to show that things were not so nice outside of the walls as they were inside.

Like many people, I spent the evening looking at news sites, and getting a more complete picture of what it was like for the people watching from outside. I couldn’t believe the anger, the aggression of the protesters, and the courage of the people that were standing next to them, committed to showing their support.

I heard that some of them picked flowers to wear in order to show that they were not among the people there to protest, and I think that is a beautiful symbol and a brave one. I am not so sure that I would have been able to stay in such a hostile crowd.

Speaking about Baltic Pride, I can’t help but remember my first gay pride event, in Idaho, 2001. It required extra security from the police, and those that were against the event were kept at bay by a fence. There were maybe 200 people there, many from outside of the area, to give support to the small LGBT community in my town.

There were protests, there were lies told about homosexuality, congregations were warned not to attend, and there was a large group of people protesting. I went to support the community, and was surprised a little when I also had a great deal of fun. I think that the people in town saw that the event was about celebrating love and diversity and that it doesn’t pose any kind of threat because each year after that the event has grown, and the uproar over it has lessened, even from the very conservative Christian majority of the town.

I hope that Baltic Pride will see the same kind of change, and that one day the gay community of Vilnius will be able to have a pride event without the need for barriers and hundreds of policemen.

Charissa Brammer is an American student that has been studying at Vilnius University since the fall. Read more of her writing here.

Disclaimer:

Views expressed in the opinion section are never those of the Baltic Reports company or the website’s editorial team as a whole, but merely those of the individual writer.