Every June, a familiar chorus rises from the comment sections of the internet: “Why does everything have to be about Pride Month?” It's a fascinating annual migration, rather like Canadian geese, except those honkers contribute something useful to the ecosystem.
To those who find June unbearably offensive because it includes Pride Month, I have wonderful news. Thanks to the wonderful end all and be all of information retrieval known as Google, I also discovered that June is: National Dairy Month; National Fresh Fruit and Vegetables Month; National Great Outdoors Month; National Candy Month; National Soul Food Month; National Rose Month; National Zoo and Aquarium Month; National Safety Month; National Camping Month; National Caribbean American Heritage Month; National Immigrant Heritage Month; Alzheimer's and Brain Awareness Month; Men's Health Month; PTSD Awareness Month; Audiobook Appreciation Month; Effective Communications Month; Fireworks Safety Month; Turkey Lovers Month and Accordion Awareness Month.
Remarkably, you've managed to survive all of those without launching a crusade. Nobody is forcing you to milk a cow because it's National Dairy Month, and I’m sure most of you aren't compelled to hug an accordion. Personally, I would like to see more accordions played in our society. I love the sound of a squeezebox, but I digress.
No government official is checking to make sure you've eaten enough cantaloupe, visited a zoo or properly appreciated an audiobook. Pride Month works exactly the same way.
If rainbow flags aren't your thing, here's an idea that has worked wonders throughout human history: mind your own business. You don't have to attend a parade. You don't have to buy rainbow socks. You don't have to change your Facebook profile picture to sport some trendy rainbow avatar. Heck, you don't even have to acknowledge it exists. That's the beauty of living in a free society.
In fact, many of the same people who insist they are exhausted by seeing a rainbow logo for 30 seconds somehow possess unlimited stamina for ignoring things that actually deserve their outrage.
Government officials accepting lavish gifts? Yawn. Public money disappearing into mysterious contracts? Must be fine. Ethics violations? Conflicts of interest? Lobbyists writing legislation? Political corruption so obvious it practically arrives wearing a name tag? “Well now, those are complicated issues.”
But a bakery displays a rainbow cupcake, and suddenly they're Paul Revere warning the colonies. It's an impressive allocation of emotional resources, so imagine, if you will, applying that same energy elsewhere.
Consider this query: “Excuse me, Mr. Congressman, before I complain about two men getting married, could we first discuss why my tax dollars paid three times the market price for that unnecessary highway project?”
Or perhaps this scenario: “I know that our library has a Pride display, but I'd like to begin by examining why every government agency somehow spent millions on consultants who appear to be the cousin of somebody's campaign donor.”
The remarkable thing about freedom is that it includes people making choices you wouldn't make yourself. That’s one of the wonderful things about this great nation of ours, and that rings true whether someone decorates for Pride Month, celebrates Caribbean American Heritage Month, spends June camping in the woods, or devotes an entire weekend to appreciating audiobooks while eating watermelon and cheese.
Freedom isn't just protecting the celebrations you personally enjoy. It's also about living with, and peacefully co-existing with the ones you don't.
So, if June fills you with existential dread because somewhere, someone you've never met is waving a rainbow flag, consider borrowing the strategy you've perfected for dealing with political corruption: shrug, yawn, scroll past it and carry on with your day. You've already demonstrated world-class talent at ignoring things, so why stop now?
Chris Edwards is editor of the Tyler County Booster, a sister newspaper in the Polk County Publishing Group. He can be reached at cedwards@polkcountypublishing.com.
