Pride - when worlds collide

As another Pride season flashes before our eyes, like a glitter cannon you haven’t ordered yet somehow still goes off in your front room, I’m struck by how stuck we’ve become.

We’ve learned the lessons of rainbow‑washing. Brands were told to stop the performative gestures and to recognise that inclusion is a year‑round commitment. That was progress. But silence in this prominent month leaves us stuck too. And right now, you can feel the rollback — not just around Pride, but across broader DEI work and in wider social cohesion.

Look at how quietly Juneteenth passed across corporate social feeds last week. Notice how often we’re told that “politics doesn’t belong on LinkedIn”, while political upheaval and calls for rage play out in real time: by-elections, riots on our streets, rights being debated, identities questioned loudly and publicly. The contradiction is impossible to ignore.

For me, this past month has been a whirlwind of overlaps and intersections that volunteering, community, and work inevitably create if you stay engaged long enough.

Worlds that keep colliding

I’ve spent some volunteering time this month with the women who came together to say Not In Our Name. That work led me back to Parliament, where I was fortunate to help the group present data from our 12‑month campaign. The last time I was in Parliament was in 2011, for the launch of the Diversity Role Models, a charity we’ve supported over the last 15 years, and where I met two of the  amazing friends who drew me to NION women. At that launch event was Sue Sanders — founder of Schools Out and LGBT History Month. Sue was the very first person to walk into the MP event last week; this time presenting evidence in support of the Section 28 Justice Coalition petition, a movement jointly founded by Sarah Drummond, a long‑time digital design hero and friend, who has been working on the Don't Say Gay film connected to the same legacy. A poster for the film adorns our office quiet space. Last year, Sarah was invited to film at my daughter’s school, quite coincidentally.

These threads matter to me more than any single campaign. They’re reminders that progress is rarely linear, but it is cumulative.

There's nothing that brings that into sharper focus for me than our Camp Digital conference, which is starting to feel like a mini pilgrimage of tech hope each year. To have Rachel Coldicutt kick this year’s event off with Why the world needs hopeful technologists wasn’t just timely, I needed it:

 “All that power, and we’re moaning in the pub”.

Someone asked me recently what I personally get from Camp Digital. My answer surprised me with its simplicity - If you surround yourself with good people, some of it will hopefully rub off. That belief has been reinforced again and again by the people and places around me.

Stop banging on about inclusion...

Candi Williams, also a highlight at Camp Digital this year, posted a call to speak up that's stayed with me this month, about conversations we absolutely should be having in our professional networks. It echoed the raw and instructional work coming from Kanika Selvan, Sherelle Fairweather, Emma Grant and Clara Parada and others pushing necessary questions following the release of the “Where are all the Black women in tech?” report. These are the discussions we should be having right now, not parking for a safer moment.

Place matters too. I play in a samba drumming group, and recently we were invited to support a fundraiser for the inaugural New Mills Pride. Seeing the streets of our neighbouring town lit up with Progress flags was quietly, deeply moving. I dropped a little NION women love in the form of leaflets and stickers, and again was pleasantly surprised to learn the organisers were the same brilliant humans behind Safe Space High Peak, a campaign that intersects beautifully with NION women when it comes to calm, compassionate trans+ inclusion.

Next up, we will bang our drums again at Macc Pride, in the wonderful home town of Nexer Digital. That connection flowed into Macc Tech Nights, where last month we were able to boost visibility for their upcoming Pride events, and my friends Jacqui, Emma and I shared a talk about the NION women campaign. The event was kicked off with an excellent presentation from Kim Foale, founder of Geeks for Social Change, on the need for community and collaboration in tech. I've admired Kim's work since we collaborated at the Manchester Homeless Hack way back in 2017. Long threads, interwoven by simply trying to make stuff better for people. 

The day after our event, the Nexer Digital office bathrooms flooded – fortuitous but useful, as our Still Proud ERG was already looking at improved policy and signage around describing our facilities rather than their users, in response to the EHRC code of practice looming for offices and events. Because yes, despite all those decades of progress, in 2026 toilets are where inclusion goes to have a fight with itself.

This is what Pride looks like when it’s lived rather than branded. It’s toilets and accessibility. It’s who gets invited into rooms. It’s about inviting people to speak. It's about who feels safe turning up — and who doesn’t.

Still proud, but not passive

I’m conscious of my voice more than ever — when to step forward, when to tiptoe, when discomfort is a signal rather than a warning. Pride doesn’t always arrive as celebration. Sometimes it arrives as persistence.

We work at the intersection of policy, research, product design and citizen‑focused digital practice. From that vantage point, this all feels inseparable from that work. You can’t design better systems without understanding the people they affect. You can’t build inclusive products without respecting diverse lived experience. And you can’t do that work well if your networks are purely transactional.

Real networking isn’t about contacts. It’s about continuity. About shared history. About showing up again and again — even when the flags come down.

Pride can be action‑oriented. Networks can create joint power. The connections you make — in tech meetups, community halls, Parliament buildings, school assemblies, Pride marches — all matter.

So yes, I’m still proud.