June 28, 1969. A hot summer night in Greenwich Village. A routine police raid. And a moment when everything changed.

What happened next is debated by historians, but witness accounts agree on this: the crowd erupted after police roughed up a woman in masculine attire who complained that her handcuffs were too tight. Many believe this was Stormé DeLarverie, a biracial lesbian activist and drag king.

The crowd began taunting the officers. "Pigs!" "Copper!" Pennies were thrown, then bottles. Someone slashed the tires of police vehicles.

Two transgender women of color—Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera—are often credited with throwing the first bottle or brick at police, though Johnson herself later clarified in a 1987 interview that she arrived after the uprising had already begun.

What is clear is this: the people who had been pushed down for so long decided, in that moment, that they would not be pushed anymore.

When the Village Voice published coverage referring to "the forces of faggotry," protesters swarmed the newspaper's offices. Some called for burning the building down. Rioting briefly resumed but ended by midnight.

The New York Daily News ran the headline: "Homo Nest Raided, Queen Bees Are Stinging Mad." The New York Times buried a short article on page 22.

The mainstream media didn't understand what was happening. But the people who were there did.

As the police van left with prisoners, the crowd grew more aggressive. Officers were forced to retreat into the Stonewall Inn itself and barricade the doors.

Rioters used a parking meter as a battering ram. Others threw bottles, trash, and improvised firebombs made with lighter fluid. The Tactical Patrol Force (TPF)—New York's riot police—arrived in formation, marching down Christopher Street in helmets.

But the protesters outsmarted them. They would run away, circle the short blocks of Greenwich Village, and come back up behind the officers.

By 4 a.m., the chaos subsided. Miraculously, no one died that first night, though several officers reported injuries.

Despite being torn apart by police, the Stonewall Inn reopened the next evening. More supporters gathered, chanting "Gay Power!" and "We Shall Overcome!"

Again, police were called. Again, the TPF beat and tear-gassed the crowd. Again, the community refused to back down.

Over the next several nights, LGBTQ+ activists continued to gather near the Stonewall. The mood was less confrontational but more purposeful. This was no longer just about one bar or one raid. It was about building something bigger.

When the Village Voice published coverage referring to "the forces of faggotry," protesters swarmed the newspaper's offices. Some called for burning the building down. Rioting briefly resumed but ended by midnight.

The New York Daily News ran the headline: "Homo Nest Raided, Queen Bees Are Stinging Mad." The New York Times buried a short article on page 22.

The mainstream media didn't understand what was happening. But the people who were there did.

Stonewall was not the first act of LGBTQ+ resistance. Organizations like the Mattachine Society had been advocating for gay rights since the 1950s. But Stonewall was different.

It was spontaneous. It was public. It was unapologetic.

For the first time, LGBTQ+ people fought back not quietly, not politely, but with the same fury that had been directed at them for decades. And in doing so, they discovered something powerful: they were not alone.

Within weeks, new organizations formed:

• The Gay Liberation Front (GLF) rejected the quiet, assimilationist approach of earlier groups

• The Gay Activists Alliance (GAA) focused on direct political action

• Activists began organizing, protesting, and demanding rights—not asking for them

On June 28, 1970—exactly one year after the raid—the first Gay Pride parade marched from the Stonewall Inn through New York City. Similar marches were held in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Chicago.

What started as a riot became a movement. What started as resistance became revolution.

A Black transgender woman and drag queen, Marsha was a beloved figure in the Greenwich Village community. Her name stood for "Pay It No Mind"—her response to questions about her gender. She co-founded Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR) with Sylvia Rivera to help homeless LGBTQ+ youth.

A Latina transgender activist, Sylvia spent her life fighting for the most marginalized members of the LGBTQ+ community. She was often critical of the mainstream gay rights movement for leaving behind transgender people and people of color.

A biracial lesbian and drag king, Stormé was a performer with the Jewel Box Revue. Many believe she was the woman whose resistance sparked the uprising. She spent the rest of her life as a volunteer street patrol worker, protecting lesbians in New York.

These were not politicians or celebrities. They were people who had been pushed to the margins—and they refused to stay there.

In 2016, President Obama designated the Stonewall National Monument—the first national monument dedicated to LGBTQ+ rights. The site includes the Stonewall Inn, Christopher Park, and the surrounding streets.

But Stonewall is more than a place. It's a reminder.

A reminder that rights are not given—they are fought for.

A reminder that the people who changed history were not the powerful or the privileged. They were drag queens, street kids, and people who had nothing left to lose.

A reminder that Pride was a riot.

Every June, millions of people around the world celebrate Pride. There are parades, parties, and rainbow flags everywhere. And that's beautiful.

But it's important to remember why Pride exists.

It exists because on a hot summer night in 1969, a group of people decided they had had enough. They threw bottles at police. They set fires. They fought back.

Pride is not just a celebration. It's a commemoration of resistance.

When you see a rainbow flag, remember: it represents not just love, but the courage to fight for that love to be recognized.

When you attend a Pride parade, remember: you're walking in the footsteps of people who risked everything.

And when you wear something that honors Stonewall, remember: you're carrying forward a legacy of defiance, dignity, and hope.

At Gender Riot, we believe that remembering is an act of resistance.

Our designs are inspired by the courage of those who stood at Stonewall and said, "No more." We create apparel for people who understand that Pride is not just about celebration—it's about honoring the fight that made celebration possible.

Every piece we create tells a story. The story of a movement that began with a brick, a bottle, and a refusal to stay silent.