I’ve never been able to take pride in the town that I lived in. Ever. I was born in Phoenix, Arizona, but it was so early on in my life I only remember small events. Moving to Coleman, Michigan, I grew up in a domestically violent household and an equally abusive school before moving yet again to another small town. It was in Lake Odessa, Michigan, I’d spend my teenage years up until I was 21 before I moved. Unfortunately, the domestic violence moved with me into another town where the neighbourhood kept it quiet and the school was just as problematic because they couldn’t handle an abused child who was bullied for being gay. How can you have pride in a place where you aren’t wanted? Moving to Australia, I was able to free myself of the domestic violence, but I was still confronted with the homophobia. At this point in my life, the idea of feeling pride in your own community was so foreign it was no longer a second thought. Until Covid hit and everyone was faced with an isolation that so many of the lgbt+ community has already dealt with. It changed people and it changed the way people approached me.

Being a part of Western Sydney Rainbow Connections changed my life. I was thrusted into a group of people who weren’t only interested in hearing what I had to say, they wanted me around. They welcomed me with open arms and through them I was able to see a part of the community that wanted me around. Whereas before, I truly believed if I stepped in front of a bus, the community wouldn’t even realise I was gone. I would not be missed. Through Western Sydney Rainbow Connections, I had the opportunity to sit down with Madame Mayor Tricia Hitchen who listened, cared and unbeknownst to me would set into motion even more changes that would thrust me into the community. Like a warm embrace, Kirsty Plumridge of Penrith City Library invited and almost insisted I be a part of their Pride Month Event and was able to host two wonderful writing workshops. Since then I’ve continued to work with a bunch of other community members being a part of a writer’s group, which has helped me to continue to leave the isolation I had lived in for 3 years prior to Covid.

For the first time in my life, I loved where I was living. It still has its problems and there are many things that still need to change, especially with the LGBT+ Community, but I could walk through the streets holding my husband’s hand and talk about the things we loved about the area. This was a new conversation. We had less conversations about what it would be like to live in an area that loved us and more about what we’d like to see and experience in the area.

That’s when we learnt about ICONIC Penrith. It advertised throughout Penrith Plaza Westfield’s for the 22nd of September through to the 25th. It boasted of live music, celebration through the shopping centre and down high street with a focus that seemed to be towards the community and what made Penrith so great (the people). I was actually excited about this event.

Let me repeat that to you and I really want you to feel the weight of those words. I grew up being shunned. I grew up only seeing communities hate me. I only dreamed of getting away and I…was actually excited about this event.

Due to mental health and homophobia, I found myself having a full-time teaching job to being on Centrelink. As my mental health continued to deteriorate (the horrific gay marriage debate didn’t help), I found myself being isolated more and more from the city around me. Trying to find a job wasn’t going well, I kept being told to remove my nail polish and eye make up because I’d find a job quicker. Continued homophobia wasn’t helping and I found it impossible to crawl out of depression when I was falling deeper into poverty. The more help I needed, the more I fell into the holes of the Medicare system.

My husband had their own journey with homophobia and mental health and when Covid hit, we both found ourselves out of work and out of luck. It was an eye opener. Crawling out of Covid, my husband was able to find steady work and we found ourselves crawling slowly out of pits of having no income. Still trying to do so. So, we saved up with my insistence for ICONIC Penrith. My excitement for this event wasn’t shared with my husband at first, but it was infectious and soon they looked forward to just spending the time with me in enjoying the event.

I’m not kidding when I tell you I programmed for this event. Our calendar was filled with events I wanted to take part in and I boasted to my husband that there were probably even more that would happen during these days. After all, this was a celebration of Penrith City. I started thinking about all the events I saw growing up but never felt like I was a part of. The streets of Coleman and Lake Odessa decorated. Music and food as far as the ears could hear and the eyes could see. Stalls of local businesses and people who had the pride of their city I was void of feeling. Parades and parties.

I really looked forward to being a part of ICONIC Penrith.

But, I also wanted to go for another reason. I had just gotten done celebrating Pride Month in Penrith. I wanted to continue feeling seen and speaking with other LGBT+ community members living in the area they didn’t feel seen. So, I picked the most rainbow outfits I owned and told my husband I’d like to go every single day of ICONIC and walk around Penrith. I’d use my social media platform to those I kept in touch with in the area. I’d tell them where I would be and they were more than welcome to come around with me to enjoy ICONIC and be seen. My husband liked the idea and joined in when they weren’t working. So, I had it all mapped out on my calendar and money set aside for the event and I was ready to see just how ICONIC Penrith was going to celebrate.

Visually, ICONIC Penrith didn’t end up being what I had built up in my head. High Street and Riley Street were not adorned with ICONIC decorations; although, there were decorations in front of certain restaurants with wonderful balloon motifs. The ICONIC map really showed just how limited these events were going to be and as I explored each of these places I realised I wouldn’t be able to attend all the events as the price tag for each place was quite high. I also noticed that the places I already loved about Penrith appeared to not being taking part in the ICONIC celebration and I really wanted to celebrate them. High Street Pies. Happy Inn. King of Kebabs. Mega Games. Brew Lab Cafe. These are just to name a few that I couldn’t wait to see how they were celebrating being in Penrith City and being able to spend my money to support them. Quite quickly the events made me feel fancy. I had to book at AG for their garden dinner experience. Same with Mr. Watkins and Chechos. Looking at the online menus, that’s as far as we were able to go with taking part in the ICONIC events. The price tag was high.

Walking through Penrith Westfields to take part in their events was limited as well. I was able to vote on the artwork despite technical difficulty. The people standing there to promote these artworks seemed awkward and sometimes seemed like those stalls usually around Bloom’s Chemist that are so overtly pushy and in your face that I do everything in my power to ensure they stay out of my personal space. ICONIC Penrith went from this huge celebration in my head of PRIDE for Penrith to a money making scheme for Penrith Westfields and certain dine-in experiences (some of them owned by the same person?). I’ve lived in the Penrith Area since fleeing to Australia. It’s my home and as I said, I’ve felt an unfamiliar sense of pride for this place. I didn’t get to explore that. Instead, my pride was replaced by advocacy. Lower economic households leading into some middle class households would struggle really enjoying ICONIC Penrith, especially with the cost of living at a level that make every day families struggle. There was a target audience for this event and I was only JUST on the cusp of being able to enjoy it.

Speaking with a handful of businesses leading up to and on the days of, a few didn’t even know what it was about nor were, to their knowledge, informed of these events. And as I said, I quickly ran out money. 3 dinners from three different places for two people cost us almost $400. An illusion to fine dining when I would have loved to buy a $6 High Street Pie and thank those wonderful people for working so hard for as long as I can remember. Head in to a lunch special at Happy Inn for $50 and eat delicious food. Or see the always smiling people at King of Kebabs. Sweet Surprises. Donna’s Flowers. High Street Depot. Cafe Fred. So many places I could list that can be affordable by visiting a plethora of them for less than the price of three of those places combined.

ICONIC Penrith was not an affordable event. It didn’t live up to my expectations. I would have preferred High Street closed to vehicles and stalls set up and down the street with each business hosting their own celebration and getting to know the people and thanking them for the spirit in which they bring to the city of Penrith. That’s what truly makes Penrith ICONIC.