It’s a question we often hear when people find out the annual Pride Run 5K is held at the Historic Congressional Cemetery each June during PrideMonth, and to be fair, it is a very good question. 

Beyond the Historic Congressional Cemetery being a beautiful and peaceful place to hold an event, it’s also rich with history.  Not only is it the burial site of members of Congress, Civil Rights leaders, Women’s Suffrage leaders, and notable members of the FBI, but the cemetery is also the final resting place of Leonard Matlovich, an American Vietnam War Veteran, recipient of the Purple Heart and Bronze Star Medal, and a gay rights and AIDS activist in the 1970s and 1980s.

Leonard’s is one of millions of lost voices from this time—a time when our government failed to act and we lost an entire generation of our community.  He passed away at only 44 years young to the AIDS epidemic, but he was able to inspire millions of people in his short life.

In his last public speech, standing in front of the California State Capitol in May 1988, he said:

... And I want you to look at the flag, our rainbow flag, and I want you to look at it with pride in your heart, because we too have a dream. And what is our dream? Ours is more than an American dream. It's a universal dream. Because in South Africa, we’re black and white, and in Northern Ireland, we’re Protestant and Catholic, and in Israel we’re Jew and Muslim. And our mission is to reach out and teach people to love, and not to hate. And you know the reality of the situation is that before we as an individual meet, the only thing we have in common is our sexuality. And in the AIDS crisis – and I have AIDS – and in the AIDS crisis, if there is any one word that describes our community’s reaction to AIDS, that word is love, love, love.

Love.

The epitaph on his tombstone reads, “When I was in the military, they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one.”  It hits a certain place in my heart when I read and re-read this statement.  Everything we do—for our jobs, our families, our country, the world—it can all be destroyed by being truthful about ourselves and coming out. We watch today as our trans community is enduring the same treatment that has plagued so many vulnerable minority groups in this country before.  They have become a common enemy in a war no one wants or needs. We celebrate our trans friends now and always, and we must support them more than ever. 

We honor the voices of those that came before us.  We read the atrocities they suffered through and the powerful words and brave actions they used to combat those who would deny them the basic human rights endowed to us by the U.S. Constitution: the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  We thank those activists who came before us, Harvey Milk, Billie Jean King, Larry Kramer, Audre Lorde, Marsha P. Johnson, and Sylvia Rivera, to name but a few.  We praise those who today stand up to keep fighting for equal rights under the law. We see members of Congress who look like us: we have representatives of diverse races, creeds, and colors, and those who identify as gay, lesbian, bi-sexual.  The Biden Administration has nominated a diverse slate of appointees that more closely aligns with the varied composition of the population of our country. We look to these leaders for change, and we yearn for a day when all races, all genders, all sexualities are treated with respect and equality.

When you come to the cemetery to run in our 5K, or to spectate, or to cheer, or if you just happen to wonder in because you see a million rainbows and hundreds of smiling, happy faces, stop at Leonard’s tombstone to read the powerful inscription for yourself and take a moment to remember a time before you were allowed to be your authentic self.  Thank him, and all those before and after him, for their sacrifices and vow to yourself to remember our history, for those who don’t are likely to repeat it.