Intersections of Pride

By Laura Reeder

In Cazenovia, we are surrounded by rolling farmland, deep waters, and a village that hosts everything from summer concerts to occasional protests for justice. Living in a small town can offer comfort and connection, but it can also make it harder to speak honestly about exclusion. When most people look alike or vote alike, it can be uncomfortable to acknowledge when someone doesn’t feel welcome or safe. But discomfort is necessary for growth. And this June, our growth depends on our willingness to talk about intersectionality, justice, and how we build peace together.
 
The term “intersectionality” was coined by scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw to describe how people who live with more than one marginalized identity—like being both Black and queer, or Indigenous and disabled—experience overlapping forms of discrimination. Intersectionality shows us that oppression is not one-size-fits-all. It teaches us that liberation for one group cannot be fully realized unless we address the layered injustices that affect people differently based on their identities. 

So what does intersectionality mean for Cazenovia? 

It means understanding that an LGBTQ+ teen of color in our town might face isolation on multiple fronts, not just for who they love or how they identify, but also for the color of their skin. It means that some people may be perceived for a visible identity while experiencing stigma or barriers due to an identity that others may not know. It means asking who is missing from our community events and who feels unseen in our classrooms or unwelcome in our shops. And it means committing not just to kindness, but to systemic equity, even when it challenges our assumptions or traditions. 

That challenge is real, especially in a small town where many pride themselves on civility and neighborliness. But civility without equity is not peace. It is silence. And silence has never protected the most vulnerable. 

We know we can do better, in fact we’ve already begun. A few years ago, both the Village and Town of Cazenovia adopted anti-racism statements, public commitments to mark a meaningful shift toward inclusion and justice. The Village of Cazenovia affirms: 

“We call upon our citizens to reject all forms of hatred and intolerance and we commit ourselves, as a village, to respect and promote diversity in our community and to be good neighbors to all.” 

Likewise, the Town of Cazenovia states: 

“The Town of Cazenovia is a welcoming and inclusive community... We therefore renounce hatred and intolerance, including but not limited to: racism, misogyny, xenophobia, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, homophobia and transphobia. We commit ourselves, as a town, to respect the diversity represented within our community and to be good neighbors to all.” 

These statements matter. They give us a shared language for values we care about. But the work is not over once the statements are written and displayed, we really need to live it. 

Now, we have a chance to live it publicly. Cazenovia Pride with the appropriate theme of “Now More Than Ever” is returning on Saturday, June 22, and this year’s celebration is especially meaningful…and complicated. Lorenzo State Historic Site is graciously hosting for a second year. This is a location that holds deep contradictions, and the Lorenzo staff demonstrate courage in their commitment to share the full and sometimes difficult history of this site. Lorenzo was once the home of an enslaver, and it sits on land between the Onondaga and Oneida Nations, a region still bearing the scars of displacement, colonization, and our continued silence. To gather here in celebration of LGBTQ+ visibility and liberation is to hold space for those contradictions — to celebrate with joy and with awareness. 

• At ARC-C, the Anti-Racism Coalition of Cazenovia, we are committed to that awareness. Our work is grounded in listening, learning, and action. We believe in using creativity as a tool for justice. That’s why we’re bringing our Peace Flags project to Pride — an invitation for everyone, especially those who have felt marginalized, to express their vision of peace. 

These flags are not just decorations. They are personal statements,crafted with hope, frustration, courage, grief, and dreams. They are how we show that peace is not passive—it’s active, imaginative, and radically inclusive. 
We hope you’ll join us: 

• ​Come to Caz Pride on June 22 and make a Peace Flag with us.
• Visit arc-c.org to learn more about our anti-racism and community care initiatives. 
• Talk to your neighbors about how intersectionality shows up in our town. 
• Support and amplify voices that have historically been silenced—especially Black, Indigenous, LGBTQ+, and disabled neighbors.
• Hold our institutions accountable to the inclusive values they’ve publicly committed to. Participate in public conversations, vote, ask our leaders to represent more inclusively! 

This Pride Month, we can believe that celebration and justice must go hand in hand. Our joy is deeper when we recognize whose freedom has been delayed. Our peace is stronger when we include all people in its making. 
Let’s meet the complexity of this place with honesty. Let’s meet our contradictions with action. Let’s make peace not just something we say — but something we do, together. 

We’ll see you at Pride, with possibility in your hands and your peace flags flying high.