Every June, the streets of many cities light up with rainbow flags, loud music, and parades calling for what they term “freedom” and “love.” But behind the glitter and slogans, a Muslim parent sits at home, wondering: How do I explain this to my children? How do I protect their hearts, their innocence, and their fitrah in a world where confusion is celebrated?
Let’s speak plainly. As Muslims, we are not confused. Allah created us in pairs. Today, this rebellion is paraded, marketed, funded, and politicized. Pride is no longer just about private choices — it’s an aggressive ideology pushed into schools, cartoons, government policies, and even corporations that sell cereal in rainbow-colored boxes. It’s not about tolerance anymore. It’s about submission — not to Allah — but to a social order that seeks to erase His boundaries.
You’re not allowed to question it. If you do, you’re labeled a bigot. But in our hearts, we know right from wrong. We don’t hate people. We don’t wish harm on anyone. But we draw the line where Allah draws it.
So what do we do?
First, we don’t stay silent out of fear. We teach our children the truth — kindly, confidently, and early. We explain that not everything the world celebrates is something we should follow. We show them the beauty of how Allah created us. We remind them that Islam doesn’t change with fashion, politics, or peer pressure.
Second, we avoid these parades. We don’t attend, support, or celebrate them. Not with flags. Not with hashtags. Not with silence. Just as we wouldn’t send our kids to a nightclub, we shouldn’t let them treat pride parades as harmless events. They are spiritual and moral traps wrapped in the language of rights.
Third, we recognize the political game behind it. This isn’t random. There are lobbies, funds, and agendas driving this. It’s not just about your neighbor — it’s about shaping a generation. If we’re not careful, that generation will grow up knowing every flag except the flag of La ilaha illAllah.
This doesn’t mean we become hateful. Quite the opposite. We become firm. We become prayerful. We become more present in our children’s lives. We build spaces where they can grow with confidence, not confusion.
And finally, we remember that our job is not to be accepted by society but to be accepted by Allah. Sometimes that means walking away from the crowd. And that’s okay. Because the path to Jannah was never meant to be crowded.
May Allah protect our children, guide our hearts, and give us the courage to stand tall when the world bows to pressure. Truth doesn’t need parades. It just needs people brave enough to live by it.
