Among the many reasons my family marched in Saturday’s Boston Pride Parade is the following interaction with my son:

Copley Square, staging for parade (Boston Pride 2013) © Martha Nichols

“Are you ready to go to the parade?” I asked that morning.

He didn’t smile. He stared up at me from a nest of blankets on the floor. “I’m worried.”

“Why?”

“I’m worried there won’t be a Sunday.”

His voice trembled. My eleven-year-old kept looking at me, waiting for what I would say. And because we’d had a similar conversation the week before, I knew he wasn’t concerned about the opinions of other kids or parents—or anything that had to do with gay identity. He was scared there would be another bombing.
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