For decades, June has arrived clad in rainbow banners and glittering parades marked by dozens of corporate logos promoting equality and inclusion. But, beneath the commercialized surface, the original spirit of Pride has always been resistance, survival, and revolution. In 2026, as LGBTQ+ communities face an unrelenting wave of legislative attacks on healthcare, major corporations who once publicly exclaimed “Pride is for Everyone” have begun to roll-back support for fear of political or legal repercussions from the Trump administration following a slew of executive actions targeting companies promoting diversity, equity, and inclusion. As funding opportunities for LGBTQ+ communities have shifted and corporate partners are stepping back, grassroots organizers are finding themselves at a crossroads. Yet, on the ground the story is not one of defeat. Backed by flexible funding from AIDS United’s We Are United Initiative, a project of the Conexiones Positivas Fund, two of our grantee partners are demonstrating that when corporations pull back, community networks step up. Through radical creativity and an unshakeable commitment to their communities, these organizations are proving that when times are tough, we save ourselves.
To understand the resilience of modern LGBTQ+ organizing, we must look to our history. Long before Pride became a month-long marketing campaign, it was forged in the fire by activists resisting state violence and pushing against exclusion. In May 1959, at Cooper Do-nuts in Los Angeles, trans women, drag performers, and street youth fought back against arbitrary police arrests. Seven years later, in August 1966, it was these same communities who fought back against police harassment at Compton’s Cafeteria in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district, marking first recorded collective acts of transgender resistance in US history.
When the Stonewall Riots erupted in Greenwich Village in June 1969, it was transgender women of color like Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson who stood on the front lines. They didn’t just fight for the right to exist in public spaces, they made every effort to meet the fundamental needs of our communities by founding Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR) to provide housing, food, and protection for unhoused trans and queer youth. This legacy of self-preservation deepened during the height of the HIV/AIDS in the 1980s and 1990s when the federal government and mainstream medical institutions ignored the pleas from hundreds of thousands in our communities for aid. Organizations like ACT UP revolutionized public health and pioneered treatment advocacy, established buyers’ clubs to distribute underground medications, and set up the nation’s first needle exchange programs. Our communities have always survived by building our own systems of care when the state and corporate structures failed us.
In 2026, this battle for self-determination remains ongoing. For Nikkie Alexander-Tumblin, the executive director of NOLA Black Pride in Louisiana, the corporate and state retreat has impacted their ability to deliver community programming. “It actually has impacted us significantly,” Nikkie shares. “We saw a big drop in our sponsorships. A lot of entities were doing it because it was a ‘have to’ under DEI, and now that they don’t have to, they completely stopped. We had some just totally ignore us, which is sad because they had been with us for a while.”
In addition to funding being cut, corporate sponsors are increasingly offering “closeted” support, demanding that their logos be kept off event flyers or requesting that trans-specific language be removed entirely to avoid political backlash. “It’s really just insane when you think about it,” Nikki says. “We need the support to push the mission forward. But where do you say, ‘Hey, if you aren’t able to stand with us and be proud about it, then we can’t take it’? It puts small, Black-led, trans-led organizations in an incredibly tough spot.”
When corporate partners asked them to exclude trans-focused programming to secure funding, NOLA Black Pride drew a hard line and Nikki, and her team chose integrity over compromise. “We’ve had entities ask us to not include anything that’s like trans-focused and stuff like that,” Nikkie shared. “So we just decided, yeah, that’s not going to work for us because all of our work includes everybody.” By standing firm and refusing to compromise, NOLA Black Pride turned toward the community it had always supported and asked partners to step up and ensure they were able to continue their important work. “This year, a lot of community organizations stepped up to help us push through,” Nikki reflects. “I have never allowed a corporation to tell me how we are going to celebrate. I have never walked away from a good amount of money saying, ‘No, this is not who we are.’ Pride is about community. It started as a riot, and in a way, we are rioting still–but in our own way. Even if we were just dancing in the middle of the street, our people would be happy because we are together. We never really needed corporate validation. We just needed each other.”
Like NOLA Black Pride, Michael Narain of Out My Closet has faced similar requests from corporate donors seeking tax write-offs while publicly distancing themselves from the communities they fund. “They want discretion–no logos, no public mentions,” Michael notes. This rising requirement of corporate anonymity sends a damaging message to LGBTQ+ communities who have spent decades fighting to step out of the closet. As the team has seen diminishing returns from long-time corporate supporters, they have called on local nightlife partners to help host community raffles and fundraising events to sustain their programming. For Michael, Pride cannot be bought or sold, it’s a practice of restoring dignity, instilling hope, affirming worth, and securing health and safety for LGBTQ+ people.
Through the We Are United Initiative, AIDS United remains committed to fueling the visions of our partners. We are honored to stand alongside NOLA Black Pride, Out My Closet, and the thousands of other LGBTQ+-led and serving organizations across the country who are reclaiming the true meaning of Pride: unconditional community care, resistance, and collective joy.