On this day in queerstory: March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation

Across the last century, April 25th has served as a canvas for massive political theater, early grassroots rebellion, and the departure of icons who understood that “family” is often something we choose, not something we’re born into.

1993: The March that Shook the Mall

On April 25, 1993, the National Mall in Washington, D.C., was transformed into a sea of denim, leather, and rainbow silk. The March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation remains one of the largest demonstrations in American history, with attendance estimates soaring toward one million.

The air was thick with the urgency of the AIDS crisis and the sting of the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy. But the stage was pure, unadulterated queer joy. RuPaul, then at the height of “Supermodel” fame, worked the crowd; the legendary Eartha Kitt purred her support; and Martina Navratilova reminded the world that queer athletes were done playing in the shadows. It wasn’t just a protest; it was a global broadcast of a community that had outgrown its closets and was ready to occupy the lawn of the Leader of the Free World.

1965: The Dewey’s Sit-In—Philadelphia’s Pre-Stonewall Spark

Four years before a brick was thrown at the Stonewall Inn, the fight for space was already simmering in Philadelphia. On this day in 1965, roughly 150 people descended on Dewey’s Famous Famous, a local eatery that had begun refusing service to “homosexuals and gender non-conforming people.”

Led by the Janus Society, the protest was a radical act of visibility for its time. It wasn’t just about the right to a burger; it was a refusal to be invisible in public life. When the manager called the police, four people were arrested, including homophile leader Clark Polak. The Dewey’s sit-in is a vital reminder that our history didn’t start in New York in 1969—it was being built, diner by diner, by those who refused to leave their seats.

1988: The Death of Valerie Solanas—The Radical Shadow

April 25 marks the death of one of the most polarizing figures in the queer and feminist pantheon: Valerie Solanas. The author of the SCUM Manifesto (Society for Cutting Up Men) and the woman who famously shot Andy Warhol in 1968, Solanas died in obscurity in a San Francisco welfare hotel.

While her violence is indefensible, her manifesto remains a scorched-earth piece of queer-feminist literature—a satire (or was it?) that shredded the patriarchal fabric of the mid-century. She was an “open lesbian” in an era when that was a death sentence for a career, and her life serves as a grit-filled counterpoint to the more polished narratives of the movement.

2009: Goodnight, Dorothy—The Passing of Bea Arthur

On a softer, though no less legendary note, April 25, 2009, was the day the world lost Bea Arthur. As Dorothy Zbornak on The Golden Girls, Arthur became the de facto matriarch for generations of queer people who saw their own dry wit and “outsider” status reflected in her.

Arthur wasn’t just an icon on screen; she was a fierce ally in the trenches. In her will, she left $300,000 to the Ali Forney Center in New York, which eventually opened the Bea Arthur Residence for homeless LGBTQ youth. She understood that for many of us, the “Golden Girls” were more than just a sitcom—they were a blueprint for a chosen family that stays together until the very end.

1977: The Corporate Clown and the Closet

In one of the stranger footnotes of queer history, April 25, 1977, saw the McDonald’s Corporation seeking a legal injunction against Bob Brandon, a former actor who had played Ronald McDonald. His crime? Brandon had come out as gay, and the corporation was terrified that the “purity” of the corporate clown would be tainted by the reality of a queer man behind the greasepaint. It was a bizarre, litigious attempt to police the private life of a mascot—a reminder that the corporate world has always tried to consume our culture while distancing itself from our humanity.

From the million-strong voices on the National Mall to the quiet passing of a TV legend, April 25 is a day of profound presence. It reminds us that whether we are marching in the streets or simply sitting in a diner booth, our presence is the most powerful tool we possess.