A note on anniversaries and repetition

Photo by Alexa Mazzarello on StockSnap

We sat down this week to write something new for the Quarter Horse blog, because today is the midpoint between two significant anniversaries. This Friday will be the 55th anniversary of the raid and subsequent riot at the Stonewall Inn, which are widely seen as key to catalyzing the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement. Two days ago marked two years since the Supreme Court ruled on Dobbs v. Jackson, eliminating abortion access in many states and dealing a severe blow to reproductive rights and bodily autonomy nationwide.

On that day two years ago, as we cried and raged, Senior Staff Writer Lindsay Lee Wallace wrote about what these two events have in common: the government’s violation of the human right to self-determination, in the name of a regressive insistence on restricting autonomy and rejecting science. Explicitly addressing the connection between Stonewall and Dobbs was important to Quarter Horse. As a public relations and communications agency, we strive to avoid the obfuscation of corporate-speak. It meant something to us to parse these connections plainly, and to stand against them. In 1969, outrage at the state’s violation of self-sovereignty created resistance powerful enough to spark a sea change. Decades from now, we hope to say the same of the Dobbs v. Jackson decision of 2022. 

So we thought we should write something new this week—but there’s nothing new to say. 

We can think of no fresh way to restate what we and countless others with more credibility and bigger audiences have already been shouting on repeat: The current cultural and legislative landscape is not what dignity and autonomy look like. It is not what life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness look like. It is not what freedom looks like. As everyone in public relations and communications knows, no one wants to hear the same story over and over. Monotony is boring, and people want what’s fresh and new. And that’s the irony: Even as we see history repeat itself over and over again, we reject repeated warnings.

But the truth is repetition is valuable. Repetition is how we remember. Repetition is how change, sorely needed, goes from an idea to a reality. An anniversary itself is nothing but the acknowledgement of a repetition, marking how time advances—and with it, change. 

So we continue to have these conversations, and continue to write about what makes us angry and sad. We include organizations combating gender-based violence in our annual give-back bonus donations and we partnered proudly with Krista Bowman to raise $85,000 for the West Alabama Women's Center, which provides essential healthcare and support in one of the areas most cut off from reproductive care.

And we repeat ourselves. We repeat stories of how the New York queer community’s fierce resistance against police violence became a watershed moment for modern LGBTQ+ rights. We repeat stories of the brave networks of doctors and activists and everyday people who are fighting to preserve abortion access in the face of persecution. We remember those who were excluded from these narratives, in particular the Black and Latine women and queer people who have long been at the forefront of this activism, but denied the credit. We remind ourselves what we are capable of, and what we still must work towards. 

Repetition may be boring, but it’s how we learn. And as one of our dearest clients say and we often remind one another: Repetition never harmed a prayer.