01:00 AM EDT on Sunday, June 22, 2008
By John Castellucci
Providence Journal Staff Writer

At Waterplace Park, in Providence, yesterday, the rainbow pride flag is under construction by volunteer knitters, with the Providence skyline in the background. Last night, thousands turned out for the annual gay-pride parade through downtown./ Ruben W. Perez
PROVIDIENCE –– If there was any doubt the gay-rights movement has entered the mainstream, it was dispelled by the scene in Burnside Park yesterday.
There, among the banners for MarriageEqualityRI>?, the Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project and the American Civil Liberties Union, were booths set out by Verizon, Rescom Exteriors and Citizens Bank.
It was a far cry from the situation 32 years ago, when the organizers of the first gay pride festival had to take the city to court to get a parade permit.
Visitors to yesterday’s R.I. Pridefest could not only rock to performances by Tiffany, Sister Funk and Danielle Andrews, they could open a checking account, order energy-efficient windows or sign up for fiber-optic TV.
However much it testified to the buying power of the gay community, the presence of mainstream businesses at the annual R.I. Pridefest didn’t mask the discrimination and bigotry that gay people still face. Nor did it hide such unresolved issues as the ban in most states on same-sex marriage, or the spread of HIV.
Gay people can legally wed in California and Massachusetts, “but it doesn’t make a difference in your federal rights,†Julie Davids said.
“It doesn’t make any difference here in Rhode Island,†she said.
Davids, executive director of the Community HIV AIDS Mobilization Project, was in Waterplace Park to help her partner, fashion designer and Rhode Island School of Design Prof. Liz Collins, oversee nine knitters making a gigantic gay pride flag.
The knitting machines were making a sound that was something between a shush and a rattle. The knitters –– Collins’ current and former students, her RISD colleagues and the artist and anti-sweatshop activist Cat Mazza –– were wearing earplugs to block the noise.
“You knit, you stitch. You knit, you stitch. You break,†they were told as the project got under way.
Among the handful of spectators was Collins’ mother, Marcia Collins. She had taken the redeye from Washington, D.C., to witness the performance art project.
Mrs. Collins, 71, a retired teacher who lives in Alexandria, Va., said she was encouraged by the California Supreme Court decision last month that struck down the state’s ban on same-sex marriage.
She predicted it would give the gay-rights movement the kind of momentum that propelled the civil-rights and women’s movements.
“I don’t believe it’s going to fail,†she said.
The gay-pride flag was designed by San Francisco artist Gilbert Baker in 1978, nine years after the Stonewall Riot helped to launch the gay-rights movement.
Creation of the flag was accompanied by a reading of the 500 or so responses people posted to the Internet poll that Collins had conducted –– responses to the question, “How do you feel about the rainbow flag as a symbol of gay pride?â€
The poll respondents differed about the flag’s present-day significance.
“The rainbow flag is a nice idea, and, like all symbols of liberation, has been systematically repackaged, commoditized and resold as part of the spectacle of consumer goods,†said a poll respondent identified as Paul.
Another respondent, identified as Stephanie, said, “I always feel safe when I see a rainbow flag hanging from a window or storefront, knowing ‘my people’ are nearby.â€
“I think we’re beyond hope and into the mainstream,†Liz Collins said in an interview.
“Gay people are very much part of the fabric of our culture, she said.
“But, that said, I think there are a lot of struggles,†she added. “I think there are plenty of people who suffer because of who they are.â€