When a question
mark hung over
the future of
Brighton Pride
last year, director Trevor
Edwards received a
phone message
from a man in
Eastbourne.
He was
worried the
event wasn’t
going to go
ahead, so
depriving
him of the
only day
of the year when
he could be himself.
“That really brings it
all home to you,” says
Edwards, 43, who took up the
reins when the charity
that ran Pride
folded last
year. “That
phone call
reminded
me of just
how much
Pride
means to
people. It’s
so much a
part of every
LGBT person’s
coming-out story
and it’s so important
more widely too. We might
have certain rights and live in
a tolerant city but
other people
don’t.”
One
only needs
look to
Uganda,
one of
many
places
where
homosexuality
is
still a crime
but which defiantly
hosted its
first Pride event last
month. But there are countless
locations, even in the UK,
where “you only have to go
to a village where there’s no
bus service after six to find
a lonely, gay teenager”.
Edwards should know; he
was one of them.
Until the age of
18, he lived in
a small village
in Devon
where his
parents ran
the local
shop. “It
wasn’t that
it was hard
being gay,
it just wasn’t
acknowledged. I
didn’t do anything about
my sexuality, apart from hide
it, until I was 18 and went
away to uni. If
we can provide
people with a
great day out
where they
can see and
celebrate
thousands
of people
like them,
then we’ve
done our
job.”
Edwards first
went to London
Pride while at university
in the late 1980s. It was at
that time the only Pride event in
the UK (Brighton’s
wasn’t launched
until 1992)
and he recalls
travelling
to the
capital
by bus
to march
from central
London
to
Brockwell
Park. “Every
LGBT person
remembers
their first
Pride. It’s the
first time
you stand up and say, ‘This is
who I am and I’m proud.’”
He became a regular volunteer
and was still commuting
there to organise the parade
when he moved to Brighton
six years ago. The former Pride
committee then drafted him in
to do the
same for the
Brighton
event before,
by his own
admission,
he fell into
the director’s
role, which he
describes as
one of the
nicest jobs
in the city.
The new
Pride is a community interest
company; the former was a
charity. But Edwards says,
“To all intents and purposes
I’d still like people to view it
as a charity. We’re deliberately
running ourselves as a business
but it’s a business to make
money for the LGBT community.
There are some differences
in the way we treat VAT and
tax but we can’t take profits
and give them to directors or
anything like that – there are
no shareholders.
“In our constitution, it’s
mandated that we give money
to The Rainbow Fund, so
anything left over from the
costs of putting on Pride goes
there. That’s on top of our
guarantee that £1 from every
ticket sold goes to the charity.
If we’re successful this year,
we’ll hand over about £35,000
and our three-year aim is
to donate £100,000 to
local good causes.”
Edwards and
his team
only
had 24 weeks to organise this
year’s event [they would usually
have 52] and the priority
was making sure the parade
and party in the park went
ahead as usual – as he reiterates,
there was a real danger
it wouldn’t at one point. In
future years,
they hope to
add far more
community
events to Pride.
He would like
the organisation
to broaden its
scope and act
as a platform
to showcase
all the groups
doing good
work for the
LGBT community in the city.
“People notice Pride and
come here for Pride, but if
we can shine a light on other
organisations and groups,
that’s even better. We’re here
to serve the city.”
He insists they are listening
to everyone’s views too,
adding that Pride belongs to
the city. After the 2009 event, which prompted numerous
complaints about noise, litter
and general disorder, the former
Pride committee worked hard
to curb its reputation as
a public
freefor-
all
by ticketing and fencing the
party in Preston Park. “That
changed the dynamic a lot. I
think they did a good job in
taking it back to an inclusive
LGBT event and we’re very
keen to keep it that same
size and nature as we
go forward. The
whole city is of
course welcome
but it is, first
and foremost, a
gay Pride and
I think that got
forgotten in 2007
and 2008.”
While it
brought its
share of
problems, the
popularity
of Brighton Pride is testament
to the city’s famed reputation
for inclusivity, Edwards
believes. He thinks this is one
of our biggest strengths.
“We have very supportive
businesses and a very supportive
council, Everyone sees the
benefits Pride brings to the city
so from our point of view, it’s
very much pushing against an
open door, which is great. The
wider population in Brighton
and Hove respects Pride and
what it brings to the diversity
of the city. We’re very lucky.”
Edwards’s day will have
begun on the seafront at 6am,
dressed in a high-vis jacket
(colleagues are threatening to
buy him a pink one) to check
road closures and make sure
everything is going
according to
plan. It
won’t end until the small
hours, when all the volunteers
have clocked off and he can
finally have a drink and relax.
“It’s strange,” he muses, “I
craved anonymity as a child.
Because my parents owned
the local shop, everyone saw
me growing up from the age
of two. Then I moved to a big
city, got the anonymity I
craved and found out who
I was. Now I love living in
Brighton and knowing the
community – anonymity is the
last thing on my mind.
“I’m so proud to be part of
Pride. The mood’s lifted and
there’s a good buzz about this
year’s event. I can’t wait.”
 

*The Pride parade begins
today at 11am on Madeira
Drive and the event at Preston
Park opens at noon. For more
information or to buy tickets,
call 01273 257255 or visit
www.pridebrighton.org