Pride, Parenting, and the Community Our Children Inherit
Last weekend, I attended screenings of The Dads and Living in Pryde. By the end of the evening, I found myself thinking about something I wish more parents of LGBTQ+ youth could hear:
Our children are inheriting more than the challenges of this moment.
They are inheriting a community.
In my work with parents, I hear legitimate fears about the future. Parents rightfully worry about healthcare access, school policies, discrimination, and whether the world will make space for their child to be their full self. These concerns are real.
But today's LGBTQ+ youth are also inheriting something else: generations of people who have spent decades creating change, caring for one another, and showing up through uncertainty.
Pride Month often focuses on the present moment. The headlines. The legislation. The challenges facing LGBTQ+ people today.
These films reminded me to zoom out.
The Dads follows fathers of transgender and nonbinary children as they navigate what it means to support their kids in a rapidly changing political landscape. One of the most moving parts of the film wasn't simply watching fathers support their children. It was watching them support one another. Men who had been taught to stay guarded allowed themselves to be vulnerable. Fathers who once felt isolated found community. Again and again, the film showed what can happen when people choose curiosity over certainty and connection over fear.
As a clinician, I often see something similar in the families I work with. Parents frequently arrive worried that supporting their child means losing something. Over time, many discover that the opposite is true. When families embrace authenticity, they often gain deeper relationships, stronger communication, greater empathy, and a broader understanding of themselves and the world around them.
Living in Pryde tells a different story, but one that felt deeply connected. The film follows LGBTQ+ elders living in New England's first LGBTQ+-welcoming affordable senior housing community as they reflect on decades of life, love, loss, advocacy, and resilience.
Many came of age during periods when being openly LGBTQ+ carried significant risks. Some lived through the AIDS epidemic and watched friends, partners, and community members disappear. Others spent decades fighting for rights and recognition that many younger people now take for granted. Their stories are reminders not only of what LGBTQ+ communities have endured, but also of what they have built.
Together, these films tell a much larger story. They remind us that today's LGBTQ+ youth are part of something bigger than the current news cycle. They are part of a legacy shaped by parents who chose love, advocates who fought for rights many of us now take for granted, and generations of LGBTQ+ people who created belonging long before there were legal protections, affirming healthcare providers, or widespread public support.
The films didn't ignore the realities families are facing. The Dads ended with a statistic that stayed with me long after the credits rolled: an estimated 400,000 transgender people have relocated to another state since the 2024 election in response to anti-trans laws and policies.
As someone who works with parents of transgender youth, I know this reality is not abstract. I have spoken with families weighing questions they never imagined they would have to ask. Is our state still safe for our child? Will they have access to the healthcare they need? How will we know when it is time to leave?
And yet, what struck me was that neither film stopped there.
Both pointed toward something else: community.
For many LGBTQ+ elders and other marginalized communities, uncertainty about whether institutions will protect you is not new; it is something they have navigated before.
Many of the parents I work with are encountering this feeling for the first time. While some families have long experience navigating marginalization, many cisgender, heterosexual parents (particularly those who are white) have never had to seriously question whether the systems around them would protect their family. Then their child comes out as queer or trans, and suddenly they find themselves asking questions they never expected to ask.
Yet one of the gifts LGBTQ+ elders offer us is perspective. Many have navigated periods of profound uncertainty before. They have lived through government inaction during the AIDS crisis, fought for legal recognition of their relationships, built community in the absence of institutional support, and found ways to care for one another when no one else would.
These moments are not the same. But LGBTQ+ communities have faced uncertainty before and repeatedly found ways to care for one another through it. People shared information, created chosen families, built networks of care, and fought for one another - not because it was easy, but because it was necessary.
What endures across generations is the understanding that community has always been one of our greatest sources of resilience.
The lesson wasn't that everything turned out fine. The lesson was that community has always been one of our greatest sources of resilience.
I think there is something profoundly important for parents in that message.
When we are worried about our children, it is easy to feel as though their well-being rests entirely on our shoulders. We scan for risks, search for answers, and try to prepare for every possible outcome. While there is value in being informed and engaged, Pride reminds us that raising LGBTQ+ children has never been a solo endeavor.
Our children are inheriting elders whose stories remind us that community is something people build together, often in the very moments when they need it most. They are inheriting advocates, mentors, neighbors, teachers, friends, and families who have spent generations creating spaces where they can belong. They are inheriting stories of resilience, creativity, joy, and resistance.
That doesn't erase the challenges of the current moment. But it does offer an important reminder: our children are not facing those challenges alone.
Neither are we.
Perhaps that is one of the reasons Pride continues to matter. At its best, Pride creates opportunities for connection. It reminds us that LGBTQ+ people have always found one another, that our stories are interconnected, and that we are part of something larger than ourselves.
Watching these films during Pride Month reminded me that the LGBTQ+ community is not defined by any one generation. It is made up of young people discovering who they are, parents and caregivers learning alongside them, queer and trans adults, elders whose lives hold lessons many of us desperately need right now, and ancestors whose courage, advocacy, and sacrifices helped make this moment possible.
As parents, we do not need to have all the answers. We do not need to know exactly what the future holds. What we can do is what generations before us have done: show up, stay connected, keep learning, and continue building community.
One of my favorite quotes from the evening came from a Pryde resident, Eddie Witman:
"Care, comfort, and community are love in action, which will always conquer hate."
In a moment when so much feels heavy, I keep coming back to that idea.
After all, our children are inheriting more than the challenges of this moment. They are inheriting a community.
Building Community Starts at Home
One of the biggest lessons I took away from The Dads and Living in Pryde is that none of us are meant to navigate uncertainty alone. Community has always been one of our greatest sources of resilience.
If you're looking for support as you navigate your own parenting journey, parent coaching offers a space to ask questions, process challenges, and build the confidence to keep showing up for your child—even when you don't have all the answers.
Learn more about Parent Coaching →
Looking for Ways to Celebrate Pride as a Family?
If you're thinking about attending Pride with your child this month and aren't sure where to start, I put together a practical guide covering common questions from parents, including how to find family-friendly events, what to expect, and why these experiences can be so meaningful for LGBTQ+ youth.
