Pride grand marshal Philip Dee’s eight-decade journey to acceptance

The music was loud, the sidewalks were busy, and revelers waved rainbow flags at Acton Pride. Then something caught Philip Dee’s attention.

A little girl stood captivated by a drag performer.

She studied the entertainer’s elaborate costume, pointing in fascination and receiving a smile in return. Dee watched, expecting a parent to rush over and pull the child away.

It didn’t happen.

Instead, adults smiled as their kids mingled with the performers, snapping photos and letting the moments play out naturally.

“They made the whole thing,” Dee told The Acton Bridge later. “The drag queens were like magnets to people. The other little kids were all dancing with them, too.”

To an 86-year-old Concordian who spent much of his life concealing his identity, those moments represented a new world. 

And he got to watch them as grand marshal of a hometown Pride parade. 

Dee concedes he is not good with dates or remembering the exact order of things. But the memories are vivid, and he can talk at length about his experiences — including when he first realized he was gay. 

“I was 4 years old,” he said. 

Growing up in Acton in the 1940s and 1950s, Dee said he knew something about himself long before he had the language to express it.

As a child, he formed a close attachment to another boy. The two would spend intimate time together, only for the other boy to beat him afterward or bully him at school. 

Dee often wondered whether affection and violence went hand in hand. “I didn’t know whether this is how it is with everybody,” he said.

He carried that uncertainty through his school years as he tried to fit in.

Best served cold 

In high school, Dee became known for his wardrobe. While classmates worried about exams and homework, he said he concentrated on putting together his outfit each day. Senior year, classmates voted him “Best Dressed.”

Before the banquet at which he was to receive the award, a staff member quietly approached his sister with a warning, he said: “Tell your brother Philip not to go.”

According to Dee, organizers intended to publicly humiliate him at the ceremony by presenting him with a skirt. He heeded the warning and stayed home.

Dee said he got his revenge at graduation. 

“I got my diploma, walked by all of them, threw my hat at them, gave them the finger, and walked right off the green,” he said. 

As a young man, Dee eventually found community in places like New York City and Provincetown, though prejudice remained a constant reality.

He remembered gay bars being raided, people fleeing through windows, and names appearing in newspapers after arrests. 

He remembered being assaulted in Boston, and police brushing off requests for help.

He remembered his prayers to God to change the way he felt about other men. 

Dee also watched others struggle under that pressure. “Many of my friends committed suicide,” he said.

He would eventually move back to Acton. 

‘All so positive’

This year, Dee celebrated Pride with his family. 

His great-nephew rode alongside him in the parade, joined by the nephew’s husband. Relatives came to cheer. 

For Dee, the feelings of the day became profound in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Moved by the scenes unfolding around him, he deliberately turned his chair away from the stage to watch the crowd instead. 

After a lifetime spent navigating a world that often demanded silence, Dee said he found himself surrounded by acceptance in the place where his story began.

“It was very, very emotional,” he said. “I was falling apart emotionally because it was all so positive.”