I remember books stacked on shelves, on the floor, on the sill of the window looking out across the Birmingham Bridge I paged through those books and felt like I was flying. Pittsburgh’s first women’s bookstore, Birmingham Booksellers, opened on a Carson Street second floor in the South Side. Luckily, as I was coming out, the feminist movement combined with the lesbian publishing boom of the ‘70s. I also credit LGBTQIA+ writers for giving me the inspiration and entertainment I needed. I know the Pittsburgh lesbian community has kept me alive and optimistic. I still keep a wary eye I’m used to protecting myself. It’s been some years, with more acceptance, some legal protections, and the ability to marry all won through great struggle. I realized at that moment how much we could lose - our jobs, our families, our homes - and how exposed we were to danger. As we passed Mellon Institute, local news aimed their cameras at us, and some of the marchers covered their heads with brown paper bags. My first Gay Pride march (as we called it then) was sometime in the late 70s, down Fifth Ave. To understand how much Pride Month means to me, here’s a bit of background.
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