It’s Philly Pride once again, and I miss my friend
Tyrell Brown, head of Galaei and this year's organizer, talked to me about the plans to honor those we've lost. For me, it's my dear friend Anthony Henderson-Strong.
Anthony Henderson-Strong was one of my best friends. We worked together for more than a decade on the Sexy Singles project but also hung out for fun. We confided about our personal lives and kept each other abreast of things in our respective worlds, which for him included Philly Pride.
Anthony is the person who clued me into the drama that’s taken place in recent years behind the scenes of Philly Pride. COVID-19 totally shut it down in 2020; the next year, the organization behind the festivities for nearly 30 years dissolved and canceled all of the Philly Pride events amidst complaints about insensitivity and a lack of racial diversity.
Last year, the event was back, celebrating 50 years of Philly Pride. It was organized by the PHL Pride Collective, a community program of the nonprofit organization Galaei, which provides support to all queer communities and people of color.
This year, Galaei is officially shepherding the annual commemoration, under the collective banner of Pride 365. The main event takes place Sunday.
Thinking about all of this has me missing Anthony. I know if he were here, he’d be right in the thick of it all.
So I reached out to someone who is in the thick of it all — executive director of Galaei and former preschool teacher Tyrell Brown, 40. He and I spoke recently about his vision for the annual commemoration, as well as his hopes for its future.
“I think there’s so much opportunity going forward for us to really do something really big and really expansive,” he told me, noting that New York City has Pride events that take place in different boroughs. “I’m like, ‘We can do that, too.’”
This year’s celebration is a respite from all the nastiness going on lately. In just one instance, anti-LGBTQ activists have knocked over store displays and criticized Target for selling a tuck-friendly women’s swimsuit with “extra coverage” in the crotch, as well as other LGBTQ-friendly merchandise. Target officials’ decision to cave to critics and remove certain displays is telling.
And don’t get me started on Florida.
Pride is a rebuke to all of that.
“It’s dispiriting that a community, our community ... is being bullied by institutions and people in halls of power,” Brown told me. “One of the reasons that Pride is so important is that it’s the antithesis of that. It is love. It is a celebration of love. It’s a celebration of our community being together, uniting, and being a uniting force.”
Brown talked to me about all the ways Philly’s Pride festival is evolving, aiming to be more inclusive every year. One new element, he explained, is Legacy Lane, which will be located on Camac Street, between Locust and St. James.
Inspired by Brown’s dream of one day opening a local LGBTQ history museum, it will consist of a large installation to commemorate community leaders past and present, as well as grassroots folks who may never have gotten the credit they deserve. Attendees are invited to bring a photo to add to the display of someone who deserves recognition.
Brown told me the project was inspired by his friend Maso Mutt, who died late last year. “Maso didn’t make it to 2023 with us,” Brown said. “Maso’s picture will be there. He had a huge impact on a subset of the community that may not get lifted up usually.” Legacy Lane will be a place to honor “so many others that will be across the spectrum of community stewardship ... [and also] even just folks that we loved and we lost.”
Creating space to honor those we’ve lost in the LGBTQ community is so important.
My friend Anthony died in 2022 at age 45, leaving behind a husband and three children. His was a life well-lived, in which he developed a career as a fashion stylist for stars such as Sheryl Lee Ralph of Abbott Elementary, and became a prominent leader in Philly’s fashion scene. He taught me so much over the years, including the importance of family, community, and celebrating those you love. When he adopted a little girl and learned she had never had a birthday party, Anthony organized not just one party but three days of back-to-back events for his daughter — a pamper party at a beauty salon, then a kiddie party with a bounce house and cotton candy machine, and, on the last day, a catered brunch.
I’ve been trying to think of something I could do to help keep his incredible legacy alive — maybe planting an Italian cypress tree (which he loved) in his memory.
After I spoke with Brown, it occurred to me that he would be a great candidate for Legacy Lane. I emailed Brown a copy of his obituary. I’m crossing my fingers that he gets included.
If not, I may walk through on Sunday and pin Anthony’s photo up myself.