Twin Cities Pride Parade draws thousands to downtown Minneapolis

Max Homstad stood beside his bike in a patch of shade on Hennepin Avenue, smiling as he scanned the colorfully dressed crowd Sunday.

There were drag queens and women’s sports fans, dogs donning rainbow bandanas and people sporting graphic T-shirts that paid tribute to Prince.

“It’s just fun seeing queer people happy,” Homstad said.

Homstad was one of thousands of people who descended on downtown Minneapolis on Sunday for the Twin Cities Pride Parade, an annual tradition that’s taken on increased significance this year as the Trump administration has pushed for several policies that take aim at LGBTQ rights.

But the dour political climate didn’t dampen the mood downtown, where the party spilled from bars onto Hennepin Avenue and onlookers whooped and clapped as floats made their way from 3rd Street to Spruce Place.

The roar of motorcycle engines marked the parade’s start, as the Minneapolis chapter of Dykes on Bikes set off through the crowd. Then came the huge flags, signifying myriad sexualities and gender expressions under the LGBTQ umbrella.

Cheers erupted when Gov. Tim Walz and his wife, Gwen, strode down Hennepin Avenue, waving. The couple wore shirts commemorating former Minnesota House Speaker Melissa Hortman, who was honored alongside her husband, Mark, at a joint funeral Saturday.

Mayor Jacob Frey, clad in a tank top as he campaigns for another term, was close behind. Current City Council members and other political hopefuls mingled with the crowd, some handing out flyers.

Kendra Eull woke up early to plant a lawn chair near the curb of Hennepin Avenue — a prime spot to watch a sea of runners complete the Rainbow Run 5K.

“We come early, sort of tailgate,” Eull said.

Eull, a regular at Twin Cities Pride, said a key difference distinguished this year’s events from festivals past: No Target.

Twin Cities Pride cut ties with the company, a longtime sponsor, after the Minneapolis-based retailer ended its diversity and inclusion initiatives, prompting small businesses and individuals to step up their contributions.

Those contributors quickly helped make up the $50,000 that Target was expected to donate. As of mid-June, the festival had raised about $1.3 million.

Eull cheered on Twin Cities Pride’s move.

“You don’t need to take money from corporations like that,” Eull said, adding that Target’s “no longer there to support their core community.”

Other companies were. Enterprise Mobility, the parent company of several car rental agencies, recruited a group of volunteers to work the festival, including Rachel Anderson.

“I think companies that are out here, it’s showing what we believe in,” Anderson said. “Now’s the time where you put action to words.”

The parade has grown tremendously since 1972, when a couple of dozen people marched down Nicollet Mall in a protest marking the third anniversary of New York City’s Stonewall riots.

Andi Otto, executive director of Twin Cities Pride, told the Minnesota Star Tribune earlier this month that organizers started setting up for the festival more than a week earlier than usual.

“We’ve grown so big,” he said, adding that 650 vendors fanned out across Loring Park this weekend.

Among this year’s attendees was Mark Graff, who said he’s attended about a dozen festivals and worked some years at a Twin Cities Leather booth in Loring Park.

“It’s very uplifting, very positive,” Graff said of the parade.

Graff said the positivity has persisted this year: “On the surface, everybody’s got smiles on,” he said.

But, he noted, there’s an “undercurrent” of unease as the Trump administration has attempted to erode the rights of vulnerable communities, including immigrants and LGBTQ people.

Indeed, Pride month has coincided with a string of political decisions that LGBTQ advocates have decried. On June 18, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a Tennessee ban on gender-affirming care for minors, possibly jeopardizing health care access in nearly 30 states and concerning advocates in Minnesota, which passed a “trans refuge" law in 2023.

A day before the Supreme Court ruling, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services announced it was shutting down a suicide prevention hotline for LGBTQ young people. And in Minnesota, a battle over the inclusion of trans girls in sports is playing out on suburban softball fields, after three young players sued the attorney general in an effort to remove a trans player from the league.

That tension was on Homstad’s mind when he set off on his bike to the parade, worried political developments might sour the mood. Taking in the ebullient crowd, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

“It’s just Pride,” he said. “I think we’re so lucky to live in a city where we can feel relatively safe. Our community is so huge, and the way that people celebrate is so huge.”