Free hugs ain't it.

It's gotten fairly popular to make some declaration during pride month that, "If your parents don't accept, support and love you, then I'm your mom/dad/uncle/family/parent/guardian now," and make some vague declaration about your willingness to offer emotional support to young (always young; never the trans person coming out in their 30s or their 50s, never the divorcee who realized he was gay at 62) queers.

Generally, in the form of hugs. Always offering the hugs.

Well, my mom gave great hugs. Dad's are pretty good. But you know what parents are really good for?

• I can always do my laundry at their place, for free.
• If I was behind on my rent, I could ask them for help and they would give me the money.
• They send birthday cards and presents without being reminded or asked.
• They take a deep-seated interest in my life, listen to me, and support me even when we don't agree.
• They are there when I call any time, day or night. They are never too tired or too busy or too involved in other things to take time for me.
• They know my favorite foods. They know what music I love. They think of me when I'm not around.
• They showed up to every concert, performance, recital, show or game. Every one. Even though there are few things more stupefyingly boring than watching five year olds try to play soccer, and few things more painful than an elementary school orchestra.
• They help me make big decisions when I'm not sure what to do. They're a sounding board without judgment.

Hugs aren't even a drop in the bucket.

And frankly, most kids get plenty of good hugs from their friends.

When people get disowned from their families, they don't want hugs from strangers. They want long term solid people they can count on. People who will support them in mundane and annoying ways.

When people get disowned from their families, they don't need a selfie with a beaming mom in a t-shirt. They need people who understand that the most fundamental form of trust has been shattered at their feet. People who've been disowned from their families are not cute. They're not always grateful. They're often dysfunctional in any number of ways. And they still need support. They still deserve support.

Think about how much you're willing to offer. Think about what mundane and inconvenient things you'd be willing to give a stranger, even one who wasn't cute, or had plain brown hair, or was disabled in a way that didn't lend itself to making you look like a big damn hero.

Offer THAT.

I'd love a proliferation of "SEND ME YOUR GOFUNDMES THIS PRIDE SEASON" posts.

I want straight white moms using their very best Karen powers to help broke and disabled queers get health insurance, co-sign apartment leases, accompany people to the doctor's office and MAKE THE DOCTORS LISTEN. I want an army of notary publics making it clear that their services for name changes are offered gratis. I want a cascade of lawyers showing up to offer their name-change filing services pro bono.

And if you do show up to be a mom in the streets, BE A MOM. Bring sunscreen and snacks and water bottles and hand them out. Cheer like you're at the best peewee soccer game you ever went to. And yes, if you want: offer hugs. But let that be the cherry on top of a big time Support Sundae with a LOT more substance and a LOT less photo op.

Anyway. Glad we got that ironed out. Now go forth, moms. And if you personally help someone get housed, clothed, fed and cared for (medically, legally, or otherwise) you can come right on down to Dane's House of Affirmation and I will PERSONALLY give you all the cookies. Pinky promise. I got you.

Now get to it.