Photo illustration by Jordan Johnson
Houston resident Peggy Black, 38, still remembers the crowd that filled the backyard of the HELP Center for LGBTQ+ Health & Wellness during Arlington’s first Pride event.
Surrounded by a sea of color stretching across a dirt-covered lot and rainbow flags dangling from the fence, Black said the event felt like home.
After the initial event, Pride would continue to grow in Arlington, with the first event bringing in around 1,000 attendees, followed by around 5,200 the next year, 9,800 the following year, and capping out at around 15,600 in 2025, according to DeeJay Johannessen, CEO of the HELP Center for LGBT Health & Wellness.
“That third year, it became an institution,” Johannessen said.
Arlington resident Samantha Raynes, 55, still remembers the intensity she felt at Arlington’s first Pride event, as protestors lined up outside the HELP Center gate, their noise drowned out by blaring music from inside.
“To have Pride in my hometown, that’s something I never thought we would see,” Raynes said.
Now, after four years of celebration, the sea of rainbow, community and acceptance that overtook Levitt Pavilion didn’t materialize.
Johannessen said the decision to cancel the event was difficult, but in February, when the modified version of the city’s antidiscrimination chapter passed, Johannessen said he could not, in good conscience, invite guests to the city.
The new chapter relies on federal legislation for protection, citing several Civil Rights Acts, and prohibits city officials from investigating reports of discrimination. Instead, residents facing discrimination will be provided with resources or redirected to a state or federal agency.
“At that point, we had to think about safety, and that’s why the decision to cancel it was made,” he said.
Dallas resident Ashley Benton, 40, and one of the vendors for Arlington Pride, said that while the event’s cancellation was unfortunate, she understands why it happened.
“Our Pride event was about celebration, was about our community, the ability to be who we are, where we live and just live in our own truths,” Johannessen said. “There is a time for protest, and I’m not against that, but Arlington Pride was about celebration.”
While the event remains suspended, Johannessen said that he and the center will be involved in Pride events in Tarrant County. He said he hopes that the event will return to the city.
Although Arlington Pride is on pause, many traditions it created remain fresh in attendees’ memories.
In the event’s short tenure, 1851, the city’s only gay bar became a meeting space before and after the event.
“We always ended up at 1851,” Black said. “Ending Pride here is just almost like a natural thing.”
Club owner Dalton Haynes agreed.
“1851 is kind of a staple, a lot of people really know about it, and there are still so many out there that don’t, but for those that do know about it, it kind of goes without saying that we were just the place to be after pride,” Haynes said.
Arlington, for some, provided a collegiate education and later, a space to celebrate their identity.
“I’m really proud of my community when they’re celebrating Pride because it’s like I love Arlington because I went to college here,” Black said. “For me, it’s just… there’s so much support.
On the main stage at Levitt Pavilion at Arlington Pride last year stood Fort Worth resident and drag queen Anthony Glover, 40, who performed as Nia Courtland. Glover shared the spotlight with RuPaul’s Drag Race contestant Trixie Mattel. He said that although there were prolific drag queens at the event, the local queens were still treated with respect.
“Whenever drag queens are involved in Pride celebrations, from my personal experiences, I feel like we kind of get pushed to the back burner, and we were featured,” he said.
For some in the community, Pride wasn’t just a safe space but an event that accepted them with open arms.
UTA alumnus Elwim Sorto walked into Arlington Pride 2025, holding his boyfriend’s hand, traversing shouts from hecklers. Sorto said the experience was interesting because, on one side, there was a sea of hate, but inside the event’s gates, smiling faces welcomed him.
“There’s no such thing as weirdness when it comes to Pride,” Sorto said. “The androgyny is so welcomed, and it makes the little boy in me when I was little and trying to understand why I was and what I was feeling so validated, it makes me so pure and so fulfilled with life.”
Glover, who has been doing drag for 22 years, said he had never been a part of an event so massive but still felt intimate.
“Everyone was there for Pride,” he said. “It was like an energy that almost felt palpable.”
Draped in a fabric that featured the aquatic colors of the man-loving-man flag, Arlington resident Quinnivene Haith, 21, walked into the 2023 Arlington Pride feeling nervous, noting the number of people and size of the event seemed like something he’d seen on television from Los Angeles or New York Pride events.
Once inside, Haith said the nerves dissipated, replaced by candy, bracelets and kind words from strangers. People and vendors lined the lawn of Levitt Pavilion, watching the stage in anticipation, flags representing every individual in the LGBTQ + community waved wildly in the wind from the pavilion’s balcony.
“That was the first time that I had ever been around so many other queer people, and I felt seen and heard and people automatically just understood who I am,” he said.
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