Los Alamos County Library Youth Services Department Manager Melissa Mackey dressed in an ‘Encanto’ costume. Courtesy/FLAP
By KELLY DOLEJSI
FLAP
It’s time to celebrate LGBTQ+ pride! This year marks the sixth Los Alamos Pride Week, June 11-17, and the fourth in-person Pride Festival from 3-7 p.m. Friday June 16, on the lawn at Central Park Square (adjacent to Boese Bros and the Y Express). As Pride Week approaches, Friends of Los Alamos Pride would like to introduce its board members — the heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears behind all the county’s Pride festivities. Today, we would like you to meet Melissa Mackey.
Who are you?
I grew up in the Texas panhandle but moved to New Mexico in 1988 to work for the Presbyterian Church at Ghost Ranch. I eventually realized that all my life I’d been stumbling toward my calling: public librarianship. I’ve now worked for the Los Alamos County Library for 20 years and currently manage the Youth Services Department. I previously did events and management for the sadly departed bookstore R Books and I assisted or directed the Unitarian Children’s Choir for four years. I’m also on the board of the Los Alamos Arts Council.
Why did you join FLAP?
I joined FLAP because I want to be part of positive actions in the community I live in and love. That’s what I DO. But there are layers to that story.
I’m a straight, white, married, child-free woman in my late 50s. I’m one of the cuspers — born in 1964 at the tag end of the Boomers, but in reality, sharing a sensibility with Xers. I grew up solidly Christian and middle-class. My parents taught all three of their children that the highest form of Christian love was to love our neighbors. They didn’t qualify that by saying only love those I approved of, or those I understood, or those who were just like me, or those who could advance my career, or anything like that.
Love is not just a word in the Mackey family. Love is an action, a service we enact and inhabit every day. Volunteering is part of that. I was raised by two of the kindest, most giving, and loving people ever. Living the lessons I was taught, continuing the work of creating community, and living with a generosity of soul and spirit are deeply important to me.
Why is Pride important to you, to Los Alamos, and to the broader community?
When I was 7 years old, we drove from Pampa, TX, to Fort Worth in early June. My parents’ best friends, the Deavers, had moved to Fort Worth and, much to my dismay, had taken their three children, our best friends, with them. During this trip, we went to Six Flags, and Sylvia Deaver’s younger brother Robert, a man in his late 20s, joined us. Uncle Robert was the perfect companion for six rowdy kids. He looked after us, he adventured with us, and he listened to us. I had one of the best days of my life. Later that night, I heard the grownups talking about how Uncle Robert was moving to New York City. Eventually, he moved back to Denton, TX, where I went to college. I worked as a receptionist at Robert’s hair salon and lived upstairs with him for a few semesters while at then-North Texas State University. We didn’t know it at the time, but Robert was HIV-positive by the early 1980s. I moved away in 1985 and Robert died a half-dozen years or so later. Beloved by his family, he never officially told his mother he was gay. Everyone knew. He dated men openly. But we rarely talked about it.
I figured out, as one does, that my father’s sister and her long-time companion were lesbians. Her friend Helen (who we kids privately — and we thought hilariously — called Uncle Helen) was welcomed into our family by all generations but we didn’t talk with my grandparents about it. It was years before I could really talk plainly with my parents about the open secrets of some of our friends and family.
Carol and Bill Mackey taught us to love, not hate, but they were born in 1927 and 1935, so they had biases and prejudices to unravel. I’ve always been so proud that they chose to let a more accepting and open generation lead them to a place of grace with so many different kinds of people. I am still learning. And of course, my entire life, because my boat was launched with love, I’ve been adding to my story with so many queer friends and acquaintances. I am lucky to count my friendships so widely and so varied. I don’t want to live small.
Pride is important because Robert shouldn’t have died so young. Pride is important because Aunt Lee should have been able to tell her parents that Helen was her person, her love. Pride is important because no one should be ashamed, no one should have to hide, and no one should have to fear. Pride says, “You belong.” It says, “You are not alone.” It says, “You matter.” It says, “You are welcome in your family, in your town, in your world, and in our lives.”
Why is Pride important right now, at this point in history?
There are too many voices in 2023 telling people that they don’t belong, that they’re meant to be alone, that they don’t matter, and that they’re not welcome. I will stand up proudly and say no to those voices. And I’ll never stop telling people that we all belong and deserve love.
What Pride event are you most looking forward to?
This year, I think it’s Pride on the Patio at Pig and Fig. I love living in White Rock and I love that we have a place where we can be together as neighbors and friends to celebrate the small moments by sharing food, drink, and joy of life with one another.
Pride is a celebratory month, a celebratory week, and a festive afternoon in Los Alamos in mid-June. But it’s also a lived value every day. I’m proud to be an ally, an affirming person, and a part of a community that lives in the world as it truly is, in all its glorious color and variety.