Welcome back, dear Prism readers, to the Allyship Corner, where we'll start off with our usual disclaimer. As much as I am a part of the LGBTQ+ community, I don't speak for the community as a whole. We all have our own views, thoughts, and feelings about different topics and we're all unique human beings. That said, let's get into our topic this month: being a good ally during Pride events.

As much as Pride is a celebration by LGBTQ+ people for the community, it can take its toll on many of us. Whether online or in real life, there are usually people speaking out against the LGBTQ+ community, sometimes at or during one of these events itself. While it's great for those affected to speak out and act, it's tiring dealing with the constant stream of nastiness. As we've stated before, it's important to make sure you're not drowning out queer voices. Where possible, help amplify existing statements made by people of the community. If you can't help fight the negative, try to be supportive of those in need.

Pride is accessible to anyone, but if you want to be a good ally, make sure you understand the meaning of it and aren't just there to party. You don't have to go day in, day out fighting bigotry, holding charity events, or any such thing, but at the very least make sure you're being a supporter of the community. Don't expect it all to be rainbows and sunshine, either. Pride is a lot more than just a celebration. Protests, marches, difficult conversations, an elaborate history of unpleasant events... It's all a part of Pride, too.

Lastly, as much as all these things are important, mistakes happen. Don't be scared off just because there's a lot more to being an ally at pride than what you thought. In the end, it's a happy event, for the most part. If you said the wrong thing, apologize, learn from it, and do better in the future.

When people think about the early fight for LGBTQ+ rights, most people think of the riots at the Stonewall Inn as being the first public pushback against discrimination and police harassment. However, there was another event three years prior in San Francisco, California, that is in fact one of the first recorded LGBTQ-related riots in United States history. This month, I'd like to tell you about Compton's Cafeteria Riot of 1966.

Compton's Cafeteria was part of a chain of cafeterias throughout San Francisco from the 1940s to the 1970s. One of those cafeterias was located in the Tenderloin district, which had nothing to do with food at all. 'Tenderloin' referred to a place in a city where the police force was mostly corrupt, and would turn the other way regarding some crimes in exchange for money or favors (so they're getting the 'tender' part of the dish). This cafeteria was also a well-known socializing place for the local gay and transgender community, particularly because this cafeteria was open all night and those involved in entertainment or street work could find a relatively safe place to go afterward.

However, that safety was never guaranteed. Employees of the cafeteria frequently called the police on their transgender patrons, and quite often, the police would come to the cafeteria without being called just to try to arrest people. At the time, it was still legal for people to be arrested for wearing the 'wrong' clothing, even having a shirt with buttons on the opposite side, and the trans people and drag queens who frequented the cafeteria faced near-constant police harassment. As a result, many of these folks joined the Vanguard organization, an LGBT gay youth liberation organization in San Francisco. Members of the Vanguard tended to not buy anything at the cafeteria, which angered the workers, who then kicked them out. The Vanguard staged a protest outside of the cafeteria in July of 1966, which many locals say lit the fuse that culminated in the riots.

A month later, in August of 1966, a Compton's employee called the police on the trans customers one night, claiming that they were being disruptive. When the police arrived, they grabbed and attempted to arrest a trans woman, who promptly threw a cup of hot coffee into an officer's face. The cafeteria erupted, with the patrons throwing everything they could - cups, sugar shakers, even tables - to make the officers retreat, smashing the windows of the cafeteria. Some were even chased off by being hit with high-heeled shoes and handbags. The fighting spilled into the streets, where some patrons were thrown into police vans, and others continued to drive the police off. The next day, the transgender patrons returned to picket the cafeteria as they were immediately denied entry. The demonstration ended with the windows being smashed again, having been replaced that morning.

As a result of Compton's Cafeteria riot, a support network of transgender activists, medical support services, and social and psychological resources was established in the Tenderloin district. This network eventually became the National Transsexual Counseling Unit (NTCU), which was the first peer-run advocacy and support group of its kind in the world. This historical event was nearly lost to history until 2005 when director Susan Stryker interviewed witnesses and participants from the riots for her documentary, Screaming Queens. Finally, in 2017, the City of San Francisco recognized the area where Compton's used to be as Compton's Transgender Cultural District, the world's first legally recognized transgender district.

So this month, I encourage each of you to go out and seek out stories like that of Compton's Cafeteria Riot. Remember that both resilience and resistance are part of who we are as a community, and when we are united, we can truly affect change.