“I think Pride, if I think about the history of Pride in Jamaica, was definitely a reclamation of our local identities,” shares Glenroy Murray, the Executive Director of Equality for All Foundation (EFAF) in Jamaica.
Despite having laws that still criminalise same-sex intimacy through colonial-era “buggery laws,” the country has seen gradual shifts in public attitudes and growing visibility for LGBTQI communities. Against this backdrop, organisations like EFAF work to advance human rights and dignity for all LGBTQI Jamaicans.
For Pride, EFAF’s Executive Director Glenroy Murray spoke with us about LGBTQI rights in the Caribbean, the unique significance of Pride celebrations in the region, and the importance of global solidarity within the queer community.
Could you tell us about the current context for LGBTQI rights in your region and how that shapes the experiences of LGBTQI people there?
Particularly in Jamaica, but also for other parts of the region, we are going through a period of positive shift to an extent. Back in 2022 to 2024, there was the wave of decriminalisation in the Caribbean that a lot of us celebrated. But unfortunately, we’ve suffered a few losses from a strategic litigation perspective, both with St. Vincent and Trinidad.
We’ve also seen a lot of positive representation of queer people in different parts of the region. We have a very vibrant community here in Jamaica. We just had a carnival season, which was amazing for a lot of us.
But notwithstanding all of that, there’s also this reality that violence and discrimination continues to be something that many of us face. Whilst in Jamaica we do have a thriving and more visible community, particularly in Kingston, in rural Jamaica and other parts of the Caribbean, the community is still very hidden.
We’re in this complicated mix where we have what I’d call “liminal visibility.” We’re visible and then we’re not visible at different points. In a space like this, yes, we can do LGBT rights work, engage stakeholders, show up and have Pride events. But it’s limited in how far you can go, how quickly.

With that context in mind, what does Pride mean both to you personally and also to the wider community in the region?
Pride, if I think about its history in Jamaica, was definitely a reclamation of our local identities. For many of us in the Global South, there’s this persistent narrative that to be queer is to be un-African, un-Jamaican. There’s a way in which our two identities are presented as incoherent and incapable of existing together.
When Pride started here in Jamaica in 2015, it was a way to say no. That’s why we still have Pride events from 1st August to 6th August, which is that period of emancipation and independence, celebrating Jamaican identity. But in doing that, claiming our Jamaican identity as queer people and celebrating our queer identities alongside our Jamaican identities.
“For us, Pride is political and it’s fun, but it has been political in saying, “yes, we too belong here.” It pushes back against two narratives: one, that Prides must all look a particular way, and two, that being visibly queer somehow takes away from who we are socially and culturally.“
This approach has influenced how other people organise their own Prides in different parts of the region. When the Bahamas or Bermuda were doing their Pride, there was a sense of “we have to shape it to our own context and realities.” I was fortunate enough to be in Trinidad when Pride was happening and it was just a month of activities that reflected their context with many organisations and many players.
For us, Pride is political and it’s fun, but it has been political in saying, “yes, we too belong here.” It pushes back against two narratives: one, that Prides must all look a particular way, and two, that being visibly queer somehow takes away from who we are socially and culturally. That’s what we’ve always tried to make our Pride represent.
Would you be able to talk a bit more about Pride celebrations? What are the events like in Jamaica?
It really depends on the year because it changes from year to year. It’s a week of activities – that’s the consistent thing.
Those activities can be anything from your usual parties to “breakfast parties,” which are a very Caribbean-specific thing where we all get together from about 6AM to 11AM, sometimes even 1PM. It’s breakfast food, alcohol, music, fun, vibes. We’ve had performances from dancehall artists.


I really enjoyed our trade show last year, where queer business owners came to sell Pride wares to other members of our community and network. We’ve had forums and conferences where people talk about issues affecting our community. We also have many art-based events like open mics and paint and sips.
In the last couple of years, largely because of COVID, we didn’t want to be the only ones hosting events. Now it’s about how we empower our community to claim Pride and ensure they’re involved in putting on events that reflect their diversity.
Last year we saw a nice mix of rural-based events, health fairs, and the year before there was a picnic at a beach. It’s claiming space in the way that the particular organiser feels comfortable, but as the main organiser, what we try to do is keep that diversity going so there’s something for everyone.
Why is it important for the LGBTQI community in the UK to understand the experiences of LGBTQI people in your region and around the world?
Our understandings of queerness tend to be dominated by images and narratives from certain parts of the world, and that has its drawbacks. When you think of Pride and the LGBT movement, you think of New York, San Francisco, London – these big cities – and that can limit your understanding of how queer people show up in this world. Once you begin to see how people Pride differently – to be fair to London, there’s UK Black Pride and then there’s Pride, and I think UK Black Pride is a little bit closer to what we do – it helps you have a more nuanced understanding.
It’s always interesting when I see online discussions about what “queer culture” is. Often, there’s that silent qualifier which is “white European or white American queer culture.” Once we begin to see how Pride happens elsewhere, we recognise it’s more than that. Queerness means more than that – it can encapsulate other ways of being and doing.
As a queer person, it really gives you insight into how you can be and show up, because there are people in other parts of the world who may Pride in ways completely distinct from your own. There’s a lot to learn in understanding that your version of queerness is not the only version.
I think that’s critical. But also, you can enjoy Pride elsewhere. I remember once I was at a party in Rwanda with the queer community there, and that was exciting. I love seeing the different flavours of how our community gathers. In my ideal world, everybody would get to experience fully the different flavours of queerness. The best way to do that is through Pride, because you’re going to have fun more often than not, but then you’re also going to learn. That’s a learning we can all grow from.
“I love seeing the different flavours of how our community gathers. In my ideal world, everybody would get to experience fully the different flavours of queerness.”
What are some ways that people in the UK can support LGBTQI communities in your region, during Pride Month and year-round?
There are two main ways. First, it’s educating ourselves. That’s always the first step. I’m not necessarily one who subscribes to “just Google it,” especially in a world where misinformation is rife. I’m a person that says, reach out.
There are organisations like GiveOut that are connected with groups all over the world. And there are other UK-based charities connected with organisations globally. You can get access to information if you want to learn more about what it’s like.
One thing I’ve really appreciated in recent years is that many people from the Jamaican diaspora in the UK are now able to come back to Jamaica as queer people and really understand what it’s like on the ground. This challenges the narratives they have about the livability of our queer lives here. There’s a healing that happens for people in our queer diaspora.

Learning actively about different cultures – whether you’re a queer Nigerian, Ghanaian, or Ugandan – and learning what they’re doing back home can be very healing in a diaspora community that can sometimes feel very lonely.
Then there are ways to provide support. Currently, we’re fundraising for our Pride activities in August. So if you have an extra pound, that’s something you can do. But even if that’s not possible, beginning to shift narratives and build solidarity through learning – changing how we talk about queerness as if it’s a thing that happens in only one specific way in specific places – allows us to build bigger communities.
With all the pushback that we as queer people have been getting globally, community is a refuge. We have to make sure communities are safe. The only way we can do that is by learning more from each other.
What message would you like to share with supporters here in the UK this Pride month?
I do keep up with what’s happening a little bit. I know there was a recent Supreme Court decision that didn’t pan out well for the trans communities especially. I know it’s a difficult time not just for us here in the Caribbean, but also for people in the UK.
As much as we would love for you to be here for us, we’re also here for you. So reach out, visit. You’d be surprised at what kind of experiences you can have here.
We are very welcoming people, especially in my part of the world, in the Caribbean. There’s something here for you, but beyond that, there’s so much we can learn from each other. So happy Pride and reach out.
To learn more about EFAF, visit their website here.
To support organisations such as EFAF this Pride, donate before July 1st to have your donation matched, doubling your impact. Learn more here.