A Parade is the Prologue
Starting at the Middle, Finding the Beginning
It's around 3:30 in the afternoon. You're standing behind a rope near a churro cart when the music shifts; a parade is coming. For most people, it's a mid-day break, a moment to catch their breath between Lightning Lanes or mark time until the next show. For me, it's the beginning of something. Not in the literal sense. This is California, after all. The parades at Disneyland and California Adventure don't roll out until you've already walked six miles and burned through half your serotonin supply. But narratively, emotionally? The parade is the prologue.
What Queer Visitors Notice That Others Might Miss
Theme parks weren't built for people like me. That's not bitterness, it's just architecture. Everything in the American theme park tradition is designed to guide families, reinforce norms, and funnel you toward merch that assumes you've got kids to clothe. There are exceptions, of course.
That's why the parade matters. It's the moment the park steps into its own spotlight and declares, "Here's what this place is about."
Characters, storylines, aesthetics—it's all right there on the floats. And if you're paying attention, the parade becomes a kind of thesis statement for the park's future.
Magic Happens (When It Actually Does)
At Disneyland, Magic Happens is a parade (when it isn't mysteriously on hiatus) that manages to be both a visual stunner and a strategic reveal. Princess Tiana's segment is vibrant and high-energy, and her presence isn't incidental. Her float arrived before her ride did. Now she has Tiana's Bayou Adventure and a restaurant.
The same goes for Miguel from Coco. His float wasn't just added—it was a signal. And there seems to be a rhythm to it. Disney has since confirmed that a Coco attraction is coming to California Adventure.
When I watch Magic Happens, I treat it like reading the opening chapter of a book. Not just for what's on the page, but what it sets in motion. And I watch it with the same close-read mindset I bring to queer fiction, parsing what's being said, what's being hinted at, and what's still unspeakable.
Universal's Parade: A Preview from Afar
On the other coast, Universal's Mega Movie Parade offers a different flavor of theme park storytelling. Unlike some processions that tease future attractions, this one feels more like a highlight reel of the movies and characters you've already met throughout your day. There's ET, Minions, and other familiar faces from the Universal catalog, all coming together in a big, lively, and slightly theatrical celebration.
It's less about signaling what's next and more about amplifying what you've experienced.
Even from over here, I appreciate how this parade embraces spectacle as a way to reflect on your journey. It's something that, in its own way, resonates with anyone navigating a park on their own terms.
The Story Starts When the Music Does
A parade in a theme park isn't an afterthought. Not really. It's a declaration. And if you let it, it can be the first page of your day's story. You start there, and then you walk into the park differently. You look at each land and ride with new context. You wonder what other futures are being built quietly, one float at a time.
Because for people like us—queer, solo, observant, maybe a little nerdy about theme park design—the parade is never just entertainment. It's a beginning. And in a place where beginnings are everything, that feels like a promise.
Written by Daryl Marez | Hiya! Subscribe to my author newsletter to receive news & project updates—Check out my other links for more.