Opinion: Who doesn’t love rainbows? Destiny Church
Words by Jasmine Starr
A rainbow crossing adds joy and colour to what would otherwise be grey asphalt. But for Destiny Church, a rainbow crossing is something to be vandalised.
Adorning our streets for a little over six years, the Cuba Street rainbow crossing was the second in Aotearoa. It was painted in 2018 to commemorate drag performer and queer rights activist Carmen Rupe. Rupe faced down rampant bigotry and even incarceration — starting gay rights groups, instigating change through her publicity, and creating court precedents that significantly advanced queer rights.
Last weekend, I volunteered as a street marshal at Wellington Pride. The feeling in the air was that volunteers were on the lookout for protests to start. It wasn’t ‘if’ it was ‘when’. There was no element of surprise.
Looking at the news coverage the next day, I hoped to see stories about the pride parade itself. But instead, I was bombarded with news about the 30-40 men Destiny Church protest which only lasted five minutes. It was a small part of my evening, yet it was the biggest headline. The only headline.
A few weeks ago, Destiny Church pulled the same stunt at the Auckland Rainbow Parade. Just like Wellington, they held up the parade, performing a haka in protest. Drag performers and spectators drowned them out.
This comes as last month, a private group with close ties to Destiny Church and Vision NZ asked a court to review the Cuba Street crossing’s legal status. Destiny has a history of interfering with rainbow crossings, as they painted over the ones in Auckland and Gisborne last year.
When it comes to the Cuba Street crossing, the church is now claiming to be frightened by the speed of cars — not the speed of progress. Unfortunately, their new arguments do have basis in both logic and law.
The New Zealand Transport Authority (NZTA) initially opposed the rainbow crossing in 2018, on the basis of road safety. Their Roadway Art Handbook discourages any art that could be mistaken for road markings. This one-size-fits-all approach discourages horizontal stripes, as drivers could think it’s a zebra crossing.
The Wellington City Council introduced speed bumps and pedestrian signage to lower the likelihood and severity of a potential accident. Since its creation, there have been no accidents at the rainbow crossing and there is no perceived increase of risk.
Furthermore, despite the noncompliance, nobody cares anymore. Due to the speed cushions, the area is actually safer for pedestrians now — more than it ever was without the rainbow.
At its heart, Destiny Church’s case against the Cuba Street crossing is not about road safety. It’s about removing queer visibility. They don’t want safer streets. They want queer art out of the public eye, and queer people out in general. This goes for pride parades and all expressions of queer culture.
While news outlets highlighted Destiny Church’s mission in headlines a week ago, there was so much their stories missed.
Things that happened at the Pride parade that didn’t involve Destiny Church:
A procession of Dykes on Bikes (and Allys) rode in slow circles, many wearing leather, pride flags hanging from the back of their motorbikes.
Five-piece band Lazy Suzan performed American Idiot, and everyone screamed ‘Fuck America’. The lead singer changed the lyric ‘we’re not part of the redneck agenda’ to ‘we’re not part of the Seymour agenda’.
Around 25 Dutch people arrived in all orange, with signs reading ‘orange is part of the rainbow’.
Massey University’s UniQ walked around face painting the rainbow and being fabulous as always.
Gigantic bubbles floated, as a child sitting on their parent’s shoulders reached out and popped one in awe.
Many surrounded the main stage, those in love kissed while not letting go of their smile. An unspoken judgement free safe zone, creating an atmosphere of love and inclusion.
This is what filled my mind, not Destiny Church. Even though they dominated the media, the queer joy was much louder than anything they could rustle up.
The breadth of the pride parade signals a unified Aotearoa, one welcoming and inclusive of everyone. It celebrates our queer history, showing just how far we’ve come since Carmen Rupe’s time. And it’s a fierce cry for recognition.
As the last of the parade’s festivities finished, the crowd looked up and pointed — a rainbow arched across the sky. Destiny Church was nowhere to be found.