Progressive — Is It Really Progress?
The Pride Flag: A Symbol of Hope or Division?
Reflecting on the evolution of a beloved symbol
The Pride flag has long been a beacon of hope, love, and unity for the LGBTQ+ community. When Gilbert Baker designed the original rainbow flag in 1978, its vibrant stripes stood for a simple, powerful message: we are one community, diverse yet united, fighting for acceptance and equality. For decades, those six colors—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple—have flown at marches, festivals, and safe spaces, radiating a universal promise of inclusion. As someone who cherishes the spirit of togetherness, I’ve always loved what the rainbow flag represents: a family bound by shared struggles and dreams, no matter who you are or how you identify.
But in recent years, the introduction of the Progressive Pride Flag has stirred a different conversation. Designed by Daniel Quasar in 2018 and later updated to include intersex representation, this flag adds black and brown stripes for people of color, light blue, pink, and white for trans individuals, and a yellow triangle with a purple circle for the intersex community. The intention is noble: to shine a spotlight on marginalized groups within the LGBTQ+ community who face unique challenges, like systemic racism or transphobia. It’s a call to acknowledge that not everyone’s experience under the rainbow is the same, and I respect the effort to amplify those voices.
Yet, as I reflect on the Progressive Pride Flag, I can’t shake the feeling that it strays from the original’s unifying spirit. The rainbow flag was a symbol that embraced everyone without needing to single anyone out—it was a bold, simple statement that said, “We’re all in this together.” By contrast, the Progressive Pride Flag, with its added stripes and shapes, feels like it’s carving out specific groups for recognition, which can unintentionally sow division. Instead of one family, it risks creating a hierarchy where some identities seem prioritized over others. What about those who don’t see their specific identity represented in the new design? Do they feel less included? The original flag’s strength was its ability to let everyone see themselves in its colors without needing to spell it out.
This shift has also fueled emotionally charged, divisive rhetoric. Online, especially in spaces like X or Reddit, discussions about the Progressive Pride Flag often spiral into heated debates. Some celebrate it as a step toward true inclusivity, pointing to stats like the 2021 Gallup poll showing 71% of U.S. LGBTQ+ adults are white, meaning people of color need explicit recognition. Others, though, see it as performative or even exclusionary, arguing it fragments the community by focusing on differences rather than shared humanity. I’ve seen comments calling the new flag “divisive” or “a political statement,” with some feeling it alienates those who cherished the original’s simplicity. This isn’t just disagreement—it’s a growing resentment that pits groups against each other, turning a symbol of hope into a lightning rod for conflict.
The original rainbow flag gave me hope because it didn’t need to overexplain itself. It was a hug in visual form, welcoming everyone under its colors. The Progressive Pride Flag, while well-meaning, feels like it’s trying to fix something that wasn’t broken, and in doing so, it’s sparked arguments that drown out the love it’s meant to represent. I worry that the more we tweak the flag to highlight specific groups, the more we risk losing the universal embrace that made it so powerful. Maybe the answer isn’t more stripes or shapes but returning to a symbol that unites us all—one that reminds us we’re stronger together, not apart.
What do you think? Does the Progressive Pride Flag deepen our sense of community, or does it pull us in different directions? Let’s keep the conversation open, respectful, and focused on the love that started it all.
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