“Stop institutional violence and the murders of trans people, and we need an anti-discrimination law now!” were the most repeated slogans at the 25th Pride March in Buenos Aires. The downpour didn't dampen the celebration. For nine hours, thousands of people marched and danced, in columns or individually, on floats and under umbrellas, to celebrate another year of visibility and rights. The chronicle and the voices. By Agencia Presentes. Photos: Ariel Gutraich. The gathering in Plaza de Mayo for the 25th Argentine Pride March was scheduled for noon. Half an hour before, the world came crashing down. A torrential downpour flooded the streets of Buenos Aires, but that didn't stop the plaza from filling up with the columns, the joy, and the demands of the various sexual diversity organizations, political parties, and thousands of self-organized individuals. After the initial encounter with the deluge, they seemed to have forgotten all about the rain. Some with umbrellas, others sheltering under the Cabildo or the giant rainbow erected next to it, most surrendering to the water and the enjoyment, began to warm up for a celebration that grew to the rhythm of the music from the different floats. Little by little, the scattered crowd transformed into a collective. The #PrideMarch2016 was the first under the government of Mauricio Macri. In recent months, members of the LGBTQ+ community have been denouncing setbacks on various fronts. The most urgent became the march's slogan: "Stop institutional violence and murders of trans people and an anti-discrimination law now." But also, the demands included the implementation of a trans employment quota throughout the country, the right to abortion, separation of church and state, legalization of home cultivation and consumption of marijuana, and the release of Milagro Sala, among other demands. There is much in common, and there are—or rather, were—strong differences in the slogans, the fine print, and how to achieve them, in addition to political clashes over the Macri administration's cuts to gender and diversity programs, and some explicit dissent within the LGBTQ+ movement . The columns began moving from Plaza de Mayo to Congress around 4:30 in the afternoon, under a sky that still offered no respite. It was a massive and emblematic march, where the movement revisited, at various points, the path traveled since that first demonstration, when some 200 people took to the streets to demand equality and respect, their faces covered with masks. This time, the masks had a satirical and festive effect, and everyone put on their own performance. The Church was one of the recurring themes. Lola and Rocío dressed as nuns, and Alan as a priest. Many asked to take photos with the holy trio. They explained that their attire wasn't a joke: it was a way of expressing a demand: that the Church accept the LGBTI community. Mónica León, a trans activist, wore a t-shirt that read "Not One Less" and a flower crown on her head. She carried a wooden cross. At the top, she had a piece of cardboard with the names handwritten on it: Diana Sacayán, Lohana Berkins, Nadia Echazú, Vanesa Ledesma, and Rafaela Onorio. "This cross represents the suffering of trans people, transvestites, and transgender people. I lived abroad for 11 years, a victim of police violence. And upon returning, I am very proud to see the achievements of the LGBTI movement in Argentina," said Mónica. The gay Catholic community marched ahead, behind the organizing committee—which led the way and included, among others, María Rachid (president of FALGTB) and María José Lubertino. They carried a banner that read: "God created us gay to make the world a better place." Among the ranks of leftist groups—some of the last columns to arrive at Congress—walked side by side two members of Libre Diversia, wearing masks of Pope Francis and Mauricio Macri and carrying a sign that read, “The Pope and Macri, enemies of our rights.” The trans and travesti column, led by activist Claudia Vasquez Haro—who denounced the resurgence of institutional violence against trans and travesti people before the UN —and with Sasha Sacayán (a member of MAL) playing the bass drum, marched behind a banner demanding justice for the murder of Diana Sacayán, the travesti leader killed last year in her apartment in Flores. Just two days after the Latin American Trava Rally to denounce the murders of trans people, the collective joined the demonstration, singing powerfully in support of the travesti fury ignited by activist Lohana Berkins, who died this year. “We are orphaned by Lohana and Diana, but we continue the fight,” they declared. This year, in addition to campaigning for a state reparations law for victims of police violence, the demands for a trans quota law and the denunciations of Mauricio Macri's government for social precarity and cuts to gender and sexual diversity programs in the state are also being voiced. “We are here to demand an end to institutional violence against trans women. And we are also part of the organization that provides free and confidential HIV testing in public places. I am also here to show that I am proud to be trans and to demand a job quota. There are still many battles to be fought,” Alejandra told Presentes. The caravan of the CHA (Argentine Homosexual Community), one of the most festive, moved nonstop to the rhythm of pop music from Plaza de Mayo to Congress. Rafael Leick danced alongside the truck. He lives in São Paulo and has a travel blog where he recounts his experiences as a gay globetrotter. “Here the march is much more political than in Brazil, with its demands and rights. And you can walk more peacefully because of the crowd,” he says. The Lesbian Visibility and La Fulana contingent was also a vibrant hub of dancing and infectious swaying, many of its members wearing the green scarf, a symbol of the fight for legal, safe, and free abortion, around their necks. Martín Canevaro, general secretary of 100% Diversity and Rights, has a long history with marches: “Despite the downpour, here we are, and there are so many of us, which shows that we are a solid movement and, far from being a passing phenomenon, we are a relevant political actor in Argentine society,” says Canevaro. This year, together with the CHA (Argentine Homosexual Community), they presented an anti-discrimination bill. One of its main focuses is eradicating discrimination through education, Canevaro emphasized. For Zelda—glitter on her cheekbones, a green sequined dress matching her emerald eyes, and a cap with a kitten's face—it was her first march in Argentina. A British woman, she's just passing through: she came to have facial feminization surgery. “This march seems more fascinating and much more political to me than the one in London, for example. But also, I see fewer police here,” he told Presentes. The street vendor wasn't complaining: the rainbow flag, at 80 pesos, sold for less than in other years. But this time, the weather was to blame. “People usually arrive around noon, and the march starts at four. Today, it was pouring rain at noon, and the market stalls were turning upside down. People arrived at four, and the march started at five,” explained the young man, also a member of one of the collectives. Mari Robles was marching in the front row of the ATTTA (Argentine Transvestite and Transsexual Association) column. She had arrived from Salta just a few hours earlier. For the past 10 years, she has been the ATTTA coordinator in her province. Mari fought hard for an ID card that respected her gender identity and was the first to receive one. Before the law was passed, she took her case to court, which ruled in her favor in 2011. “I am proud of who I am, just as I am; I don’t need implants,” she told Presentes. She marched to demand equal rights in general and a quota for transgender people in employment in particular. A group of women over 65 marched more slowly behind a banner that read: “Parents, family members, and friends of the LGBTQ+ community.” “We march out of love for our children, out of pride that they can express themselves as they are. More education is needed for these issues to move forward.” As evening fell, the rain had stopped, and on the stage in front of Congress, representatives of the Organizing Committee, which brings together 34 organizations , read a statement collectively and shared a video. They reviewed the last 25 years “of pain from the deaths, the beatings, the violence, of fury and indignation, but also of celebration and joy, and for the activism that led to legal equality.” They demanded an end to institutional violence and the murders of transgender people, who continue to have an average life expectancy of 40 years. “We cannot continue to accept these statistics,” they declared. They pointed out that this situation can be resolved with concrete public policies and the passage of an anti-discrimination law. “There is no LGBTI divide, there is unity here,” they emphatically proclaimed.

“We want to build a culture of diversity”

They demanded compliance with the trans employment quota law and “the separation of Church and State, which spends 22 billion pesos to support priests and bishops who teach our children to discriminate.” They also demanded that the State guarantee access to misoprostol and that the national protocol for legal abortions be followed. They denounced the National Government for cutting the budgets of the National Council for Women, INADI (National Institute Against Discrimination, Xenophobia and Racism), and the Secretariat of Human Rights, as well as medication for people with HIV. On this point, they called for the enactment of a new AIDS law and the protection of children born with the virus, in addition to generic medication that guarantees the sustainability of medical treatments. They demanded the release of Milagros Salas in Jujuy, and called for justice for Belén and for the drivers detained in Salta due to a labor dispute.  “We want to build a culture of diversity. We don't want to wait another 25 years for what's still needed. We achieve that by sharing our demands with other social movements.” After a long day of celebration, the main stage welcomed the bands. The eggs and stones thrown in that direction in the middle of the night prompted the organizers to end the show before the scheduled closing act by Bandana, a musical choice that had been heavily criticized by some organizations at the time. The party didn't continue as planned, but it went on nonetheless, as the thousands of people, now dry from the rain but drenched in sweat from dancing, dispersed amidst kisses and hugs. Onward to reinventing the pride of the night. Follow us on: Twitter @PresentesTLGBI Instagram: PresentesTLGBI Facebook: https://web.facebook.com/presentesTLGBI/]]>