What about when celebration doesn’t feel very…celebratory?
There’s a lot to celebrate in June. This month, we commemorate Pride, Juneteenth, Immigrant Heritage Month, and more — each rooted in the fight for human dignity, safety, and freedom. They remind us how far we’ve come and celebrate the countless changemakers who fought tirelessly in the face of myriad challenges. These special designations invite us to remember, reflect, and recommit.
I’ve been thinking back to one of the proudest moments in my career — when the City of Phoenix expanded protections so LGBTQ+ people could no longer be legally discriminated against in housing, employment, or public spaces. As I walked in the Pride parade that year, side by side with volunteers and members of the Phoenix City Council, the energy was joyful and electric. It felt like we were on a clear path forward. Like the long fight for rights was finally gaining momentum.
Ten years later, and things feel very different. While many of us still show up to celebrate — waving flags, attending festivals, sharing hashtags — we can’t ignore that the rights and identities we’re honoring are actively under attack. And it’s impacting our June celebrations.
Nearly 40% of companies say they’re scaling back their Pride engagement this year. Not a single one surveyed plans to do more. Major sponsors like Mastercard and Nissan have pulled out of New York City’s Pride parade. Local Pride events are seeing donations drop by 70 to 90%. DEI programs are being dismantled across the country. ICE raids are ramping up and negating due process. The same values we uplift this month — equity, freedom, belonging — are being legislated against in plain sight.
Amid that reality, what do our June celebrations – and commemorative days across the calendar year – count for?
A rainbow logo. A Juneteenth acknowledgment. A Black Lives Matter post shared once a year. These gestures might come from a good place — and they do matter — but they are not enough on their own.
I want to be clear: the point isn’t don’t celebrate. We absolutely should. Celebration, commemoration, and joy are essential — especially in times like these. Celebration is a way we remind ourselves of the changemakers who’ve come before us and all they’ve fought for; all they’ve achieved. It’s also how we remember that these ideals matter. That our communities, our identities, our histories are worthy of recognition.
Joy, in this context, is resistance. It is bold. It is necessary. But it can’t be where we stop.
The first Pride event was an uprising against oppression. Juneteenth marks the delayed arrival of freedom. These are not neutral holidays — they are charged with memory, resistance, and ongoing struggle. If we want to honor them, we can’t just clap from the sidelines.
Right now, funding for Pride events is disappearing. DEI programs are being stripped away. Anti-immigrant policies are being strengthened. We’re not in a moment of passive remembrance — we’re in a moment of active erosion. Black, Brown, LGBTQ+, and immigrant communities are being targeted in real time.
These commemorative days and months exist for a reason: to keep what matters from falling out of sight. They’re a public reminder that these communities, these histories, these rights — they’re valued. They matter. And while they aren’t the whole story, they are an important part of it.
The truth is: we cannot wait for corporations to lead on justice. They’ll follow when it’s profitable — and disappear when it’s not. Real, lasting change has always come from individuals and communities who act not because it’s expedient, but because it’s right.
So this month — and every month — let’s take our celebrations and turn them into action.
Start by looking to the people who never stopped showing up. Follow their lead. Support their work. Spend your time and your money in places that are rooted in justice and equity — not just marketing.
Last week, millions of people showed up at the No Kings protests in communities across the entire country — calling out injustice and demanding change when it mattered most.
Here are a few more ways to move from symbolism to solidarity:
Speak up — especially when it’s unpopular or uncomfortable.
Support LGBTQ+ and Black-led orgs — locally and nationally.
Educate beyond the basics — watch Disclosure, listen to the 1619 Project, read work by queer and Black creators.
Audit your workplace — who’s in the room when decisions are made? Who’s missing?
Celebration is action. It’s also a springboard into other intentions and initiatives that drive change.
So yes, celebrate. Celebrate with joy and pride and power. But let’s also ask: what comes next? What other action follows the celebration? Who are we standing with when the music stops?
Let’s gather, honor, and remember. But let’s also tell the truth. These commemorative days exist because people fought — and are still fighting — to be free, to be safe, and to be seen.