“Change happens when people care enough to stand together and when passion becomes courage, and courage becomes action.”
~Sharyn Keiser
Red is the color of the fire that keeps us moving forward. It represents the passion to speak up, the courage to stand together, and the action it takes to keep fighting for equality.
New Hope Celebrates proudly announces the launch of i am new hope: “Every Color Tells a Story”, a year-long community campaign combining storytelling and limited-edition merchandise to celebrate identity, history, and belonging – one color at a time. A monthly release of limited-edition i am new hope t-shirts, each produced in a single exclusive color inspired by the Progress Pride Flag, will accompany the campaign. Each color represents a value, an experience, and a piece of who we are, individually and collectively.
My life in New Hope has been shaped by three words that have guided me for as long as I can remember: passion, courage, and action. They have shaped the way I raised my family, the way I built my career, and most importantly, the way I have tried to serve my community and stand up for equality.
My wife Sandy Santello and I moved to New Hope in 1994. We were drawn here in part because of its vibrant LGBTQ+ community, but what we discovered was so much more. We found a place that felt alive, creative, welcoming, and full of people who believed that being different was something to celebrate. Before long, New Hope became not just the place where we lived, but our home.
My professional life had been dedicated to education. For 32 years, I taught math and science and later served as an administrator with the School District of Philadelphia. After that, I continued my career with Johnson & Johnson Pharmaceutical Research and Development. But I never believed that retirement from education meant retirement from service.
I became involved in New Hope because I cared deeply about the community and wanted to help make it better. I served as vice president and later president of Partners in Progress, served on the Planning Commission, and spent 14 years on Borough Council. I was deeply honored to become New Hope’s first openly gay council member and first women to serve as Council President. Those titles matter to me, but the moments that stay with me are the moments when I saw people come together.
I will never forget helping make New Hope’s first PRIDE parade possible. Seeing our streets filled with people celebrating who they were—and seeing the community embrace that celebration—was incredibly moving. I also treasure the memory of standing with our grandchildren as the rainbow flag was unfurled across the New Hope–Lambertville Bridge. Looking at them, I realized that the work we had done was not only about our generation. It was about the world we were leaving for theirs. My grandchildren continue to remind me why equality matters. I hope they carry forward the belief that every person deserves to live openly, safely, and with dignity.
One of the projects closest to my heart was the Inside + Out LGBTQ+ History Exhibit. In 2019, I had the privilege of working with Gordon Pulaski, creator and producer, and Sandy, who served as photographer and curator, to help tell the stories of the LGBTQ+ people who helped shape New Hope. It was important to me that we remember those who came before us—the people whose courage and perseverance made it possible for us to stand where we are today.
Their stories are part of our history, and preserving them is part of our responsibility.
My commitment to service began long before I ever held public office. As a single parent, I raised two children, and I tried to teach them through my own life that family, perseverance, compassion, and service matter. I wanted them to understand that when you see something that needs to change, you don’t simply complain about it—you step forward and do something.
That belief has stayed with me throughout my life.
I helped shape New Hope’s Ten-Year Comprehensive Plan, supported the growth and visibility of the Raven, advocated for street closures that helped make PRIDE celebrations possible, worked to strengthen relationships between Borough leadership and the LGBTQ+ community, helped establish pocket parks for community gatherings, and organized and performed commitment ceremonies at Ferry Street Landing celebrating couples of all kinds.
But when I look back, I don’t measure my life by the positions I held or the projects I helped accomplish. I measure it by the people I met, the friendships I made, the doors we opened, and the moments when our community came together.
Sandy and I are deeply grateful that we chose New Hope all those years ago. This community has given us great friendships, much love, and a place where we could always be ourselves.
I am proud of whatever role I have played in making New Hope a more welcoming and inclusive community. But I am even prouder knowing that I was never doing it alone. Change happens when people care enough to stand together – and when passion becomes courage, and courage becomes action.
That is the legacy I hope to leave our children, our grandchildren, and the community I love …
Don’t be afraid to stand up, don’t be afraid to speak out, and never underestimate what can happen when you turn your passion into action.
~ Sharyn Keiser
August’s Story:
The light, laughter, and warmth that make this community feel like home. At my core, nothing brings me more joy than showing up for people. My simple goal whenever I chat with someone is to leave them feeling a little lighter and genuinely good about who they
are. That drive comes straight from my parents. Raised by a teacher and a police officer, I learned early on that community isn't just a place where you live: it’s something you actively build, protect, and nurture.
Today, I live at a beautiful intersection: being gay and being a parent to my wonderful son and daughter. They might sound like two totally different paths, but they share the exact same reality: you can’t walk either journey on your own. Being LGBTQ+ and being a parent both demand a community to lean on. Neither can be done in isolation, and to truly thrive in both roles, you need a network of support. I’ve always believed you can only give love as generously as you receive it, and our family is so lucky to be wrapped in the arms of such a wonderful village.
Chosen family is at the very heart of our lives. Because my children came into my life through adoption, the concept of chosen family carries an even deeper significance for us. It is a daily reminder that family is defined by intentional love, connection, and commitment. That beautiful, expansive network of love doesn’t just hold me up: it uplifts and celebrates my kids. We are so lucky to live in this beautiful “bubble” of acceptance here in New Hope. In a world where that safety and open-mindedness are not always easy to come by, the embrace our family has experienced is something I never take for granted. That unconditional support extends far beyond the diverse, vibrant gay community and into the very heart of our local school system, where my children are welcomed and celebrated, no matter who their parents
are.
You’ll always find our family front and center at the New Hope Pride Parade, an event that holds a profoundly special place in my heart. What makes it so meaningful isn’t just the celebration itself, but how the entire New Hope community shows up—not only our LGBTQ+
neighbors, but an overwhelming abundance of allies standing side-by-side. There is no greater joy than watching my kids’ faces light up as the parade passes by, seeing people they know and care about waving down at them from the procession, tossing them candy and necklaces, and reminding them in real time just how deeply they are embraced and loved by this community.
August is about sunlight, optimism, and celebration, and nothing embodies that more for us than our community. I am deeply grateful for the joy this network brings into our lives, especially all the incredible “guncles” and “launts” my son and daughter have been lucky enough to grow up around, learn from, and love. They are a constant source of the light and laughter that make this chosen family feel exactly like home.
– Jordan Mauger
July’s Story:
White
White is the entire visible spectrum combined—all colors, all inclusive.
White symbolizes new beginnings.
When I moved to New Hope in 1993 from the Midwest, it would be an understatement to say, “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!”
It’s especially fitting that I’m following Ed Kimble, who wrote June’s story, because he and his husband, Eric Lee, were the first people I met here in New Hope. They quickly scooped me up and introduced me to this town and the many glorious people who make it truly magical. The diversity of people and personalities was vast, yet they were remarkably alike at their core. They simply wanted the freedom to be who they were.
THEY were New Hope.
They became my extended family, and that family continued to grow into a cast of characters far too numerous to mention without breaking the internet.I learned so much and experienced things I had never seen before. The drag shows, the parties, the dancing, and the joy were ever-present. But alongside those celebrations came the pain of watching many new found friends battle for their lives against a disease for which there was no cure, all while belonging to a community that was too often invisible to the rest of society. It was confusing, frightening, and heartbreaking. Yet it was also inspiring to witness our diverse and compassionate community rally together, time and again, to care for one another in times of need.
THIS is New Hope.
I am immensely proud to have been part of New Hope Celebrates for more than two decades, witnessing our grassroots organization grow to welcome tens of thousands of people each year for Pride—to experience what we have, who we are, and what we believe. It has truly been a privilege to be part of that journey.
It was an even greater privilege to work closely with my dear friend Gordon Pulaski. Gordon’s vision for the campaign was one of inclusion, belonging, love, and, of course, hope. He wanted everyone to be their authentic selves—to feel safe, to feel free.
I will never forget coming over the bridge from Lambertville into New Hope just before the Pride parade and seeing hundreds of people of every age and every color of the rainbow holding up their own i am new hope signs and cheering together. I will treasure that feeling of love, acceptance, and belonging forever.
The color for the month of July is white.
On the Progress Pride flag, white—along with pink and light blue—represents our transgender family. Their rights, along with the rights of so many others, are being threatened. We cannot stop fighting for equal rights for everyone.
White also symbolizes new beginnings—a clean slate. New beginnings are opportunities for change, and meaningful change begins with each one of us.
Just as white would not exist without every color in the spectrum, our New Hope cannot exist without all of us—together, cheering, fighting, believing, and proclaiming: I Am New Hope!
As our nation celebrates its 250th anniversary, I can’t help but think of the American flag. In addition to representing one of the original thirteen colonies, the white stripes symbolize purity and innocence.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see a child waving a Progress Pride flag in one hand and an American flag in the other, wearing an i am new hope T-shirt, without a care in the world?
I can see it here in our little town.
Gordon envisioned it everywhere.
WE are New Hope!
May this dawn of America’s 251st year bring us one step closer to white: its all-inclusive spectrum, its promise of new beginnings, and the peace, innocence, and hope we all deserve.
– Jennifer Wohl
June’s Story:
Forty-one years ago, I arrived in New Hope with Eric Lee, and we found something rare: a place where we could finally be ourselves. For four decades, this town was where we belonged.
Eric’s favorite color was purple. As an artist, he saw in it what I’ve come to understand more deeply since losing him four years ago: that purple holds both joy and sorrow, creativity and mourning, celebration and remembrance. It contains multitudes, just like the lives we built here.
I was the drag performer, the one in the spotlight wearing the crowns, who spent years competing on the pageant circuit and have been entertaining stages for forty-one years. I won many pageants and collected titles throughout my forty-one years on the circuit. But Eric was the artist who made it all possible. Every face of makeup, every hair design, every piece of wardrobe that made audiences gasp—that was Eric. He’d brush purple into my eyes, blend it across my cheeks, style every wig, perfect every detail. I wore the crowns, but he created the magic that made them shine.
And it wasn’t just me. Eric helped launch countless performers, polishing them for local and statewide pageantry, teaching them the artistry behind the art form. He understood that drag isn’t just performance – it’s transformation, collaboration, the work of many hands creating one moment of beauty.
We didn’t perform just for the applause. From 1985 forward, we used every stage, every crown, every spotlight to raise money for our community. The fight against AIDS never stopped – we raised hundreds of thousands of dollars through New Hope Celebrates and many other organizations, continuously showing up for those who needed us. Giving to them was giving of ourselves – to friends we lost, to a community that held us, to a town that let us be exactly who we were.
Gordon Pulaski understood what Eric understood: that creativity is how we tell the world we exist, that we matter, that our stories deserve to be seen. Gordon gave his vision to New Hope Celebrates for years, just as Eric gave his artistry to our performances and to a generation of drag artists he helped shape. Both knew that behind every moment of beauty is someone working in the shadows, making magic happen.
Purple represents what New Hope has always been: a place of spirit and creative power, where sorrow and joy exist together, where drag artistry flourishes, where everyone is welcome to bring their whole selves. It’s the color of the artist behind the spotlight, the quiet hands that create beauty, the partnerships that make transformation possible, the love that endures even after loss.
When Eric died, the purple didn’t fade. It deepened. It became memory and legacy, inspiration and continuing love. Every time I see purple now, I see him – and I see every face he painted, every performer he mentored, every moment of drag magic we created together. I see this community that let us build a life together, that celebrated us, that still holds space for our story.
Purple is the color of belonging. It’s the color of drag legacy. It’s the color of home.
– Edward Kimble
May’s Story:
At its root, the color blue is the cornerstone of our rainbow colors designating harmony, solidarity and community. Though the other colors shimmer brightly in their own ways, they are dependent on blue as their core component to keep them cohesive.
Every day we are reminded of blue’s importance in life, as it wakes and welcomes us in the morning sky and brings us comfort and peacefulness in its streams and oceans.
25 years ago, hopping out of a cab on my way into Manhattan’s Lenox Hill Hospital for multiple heart bi-pass surgery, I remember looking up at the sunny July sky and wondering if I would ever have the chance to see blue again. But committing, if the operation was successful, to do something to make life better for many others.
The operation was shaky but went well. I chose to spend a month recuperating by slowly but steadily walking daily the Canal paths that wind around the Delaware River. Each day I goaled myself further, in order to breath larger again, surrounded by beautiful creatures and woodlands of nature, always bound by the color blue. And also thinking about that commitment that I had made to the community.
At that time, the New Hope area was steaming with LGBTQ+ individuals of every kind, diverse in nature but unified in spirit, joined by the entirety of the townsfolk. Yet, other than bars and hangouts, we were without a crucial centerpiece. No unified organization. “Bluish”.
Walking on those paths looking to literally expand life, I envisioned a central source that brought both LGBTQ+ locals and travelers together annually for events in which all folks could enjoy and participate. Looking for a name to register with the state, I considered many but, wanting something encompassing all, then came ‘New Hope Celebrates.’ The name seemed ‘blue.’
As soon as I was able, the pitching began, walking door-to-door explaining the concept to anyone who would listen. Some attention came via two members of our Borough Council. A core group of gay business owners joined in and we called ourselves ‘the Gay Caucus.’
We held meetings at the Raven and The Wishing Well Guesthouse, where I was the owner at that time. We held our first small festival entitled ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow.’ Now, with visibility and income bearing opportunities, more retailers joined in and gave us financial support in exchange for program ads.
The New Hope Gazette supported us with free advertising. While Borough Council could not help with funding, they and the entire New Hope Chamber of Commerce offered endorsements. Pumped with optimism, we quickly followed up with another festival, this one 3 days long (later a week) and chalked with activities for everyone, including families and kids.
As I often say, ‘everything starts from the number one,’ and with the efforts of many amazing, dedicated volunteers (especially Gordon Pulaski whose artistry created ‘i am new hope’,) believers in the retail community, corporations seeking LGBTQ+ support, and other service organizations, NHC has expanded larger in scope yearly and ten years ago added a history preservation arm to its menu. New Hope Celebrates History is now one of the largest and most respected LGBTQ+ history archives in PA and in line for national preservation.
NHC has brought me many moments of joy and pride in over the past two plus decades. But none stand out more than a sunny Saturday morning parade when, flanked by our PA state Governor and our district elected official to the US House of Representatives, we walked down Mechanic St in our parade. The route was teaming with hundreds of cheering, applauding, banner and flag waving community members–both gay and straight–brimming with excitement.
I looked up and out toward the Delaware and up to the clear, cloudless sky. And then I took a long deep breath into my ‘new heart.’ And then I knew that I had finally found again ‘my blue.’
– Dan Brooks, NHC Founder.
April’s Story:
In the transgender flag created by trans person Monica Helms in 1999, light blue and light pink symbolize the traditional colors for baby boys and girls.
For our purposes, light blue includes all trans voices. Blue is the color of the sky, the sea, and evokes calm, peace, and stability. It is associated with trust, loyalty, wisdom, and used in corporate branding to convey reliability.
Transgender people express their gender or identify with a gender different from the sex they were assigned at birth. In the U.S. there are over 1.4 million trans adults representing 0.5% of the population. There are roughly 724,000 teens aged 13 to 17 that identify as trans—3% of that age group—making young people much more likely to identify as transgendered than adults.
In the current political climate, America may feel like it’s moving backwards, particularly trans rights. The trans community is a minority of a minority. We make easy targets for school yard bullies and homophobic politicians. Seventy-two percent of homicides involving LGBTQ+ Americans are against trans people, predominately blacks and Latinos.
Doesn’t sound like much worth celebrating. Fortunately, that’s not the whole story.
In the area of gender, we are marching forward. In 2026, we have a vocabulary that didn’t exist ten years ago. They/them. Non-binary. Gender fluid. Our email signature lines challenge entrenched assumptions and expand public awareness.
To conservatives living in the 1950s there may only be two genders, but on Facebook you have 13 options, including: agender, androgyne, bigender, CIS, and a blank field where you can write in your preference. For pronouns, you have three choices: he/him, she/her, and they/them.
Kevin Gilmore (a.k.a. Phoebe Manntrappe) once said to me, “You’re not a drag queen.” Because I didn’t perform onstage. “You’re not a crossdresser.” Because I took hormones. “And you’re not a transsexual.” Because I didn’t want gender affirmation surgery. “We need to invent a new category for you. You’re a gender bender.”
We all deserve our own category.
In the movie Harold & Maude, Harold points to a field of daisies and says, “I want to be like one of them. Because they’re all alike.” Maude picks up a daisy and says, “But they’re not. If you look closely, every flower is different.”
So it is with trans people. Not all of us wear our wigs backwards. Some have been Army Rangers, jumped out of helicopters and prefer shooting ranges over nail salons. Others in the community embody style and grace, like Hunter Schafer, Elliot Page and our very own Eva Bella Guasconi.
Whether you are a black transsexual, gay Mexican, Jewish lesbian, queer Shiite, purple furry, gender bender—or straight Republican—you are a unique individual who deserves to be treated with respect.
* * * * *
A Gordon Pulaski story.
On May 26, 2022, Gordon texted me: “Fuck ________ ________!” The person he was referring to shall remain nameless.
The previous Sunday we were at the New Hope Celebrates Gay Pride Reunion held by Mary Margaret at the Clarion (a.k.a. New Hope Inn). People came from all over the country, from Florida to San Francisco to celebrate their New Hope roots. Even though he was in poor health, Gordon was there. We were working on a video, interviewing attendees, asking them to talk about what New Hope meant to them.
Gordon texted me because he was upset with the direction the video was taking. I picked up the phone and called him. He was all worked up, wanting our efforts to be shown in the best light, and angry at someone because they were standing in the way. That was Gordon. Our creative director. Fired up. Engaged. Passionate. Outspoken to the end.
On May 28, 2022, Gordon went to join Joey Ray. I, along with the rest of the community, have not stopped missing him.
– Stefani M.
March’s Story:
I was present at the very first New Hope Gay Pride march celebration, and I have continued attending every year since. That first march was not simply an event — it was a declaration. It was a moment in history when courage stepped into the sunlight in our own small but powerful community. We gathered not knowing exactly what the future would hold, but we knew with certainty that we deserved to be seen, heard, and respected. There was electricity in the air — a mixture of fear, hope, defiance, and joy. It marked the beginning of something much larger than any of us could fully comprehend at the time.
Over the years, Pride in New Hope has grown in size, visibility, and depth, yet at its heart it remains rooted in the same essential purpose: community, dignity, and human rights. I am deeply grateful for the creative volunteer staff and organizers who work tirelessly each year to shape these celebrations. They do far more than plan parades and events — they rally our community, preserve our history, amplify our voices, and create spaces where people feel safe to live openly and authentically. Their dedication reminds me that Pride is not automatic; it is built through effort, intention, and love.
Pride is not only a celebration — it is participation. It is standing up publicly for human rights and refusing to allow discrimination or inequality to define us. It honors those who came before us, those who risked careers, families, reputations, and even their lives so that future generations could live more freely. It embraces the young people marching today, who are shaping the next chapter of our story with boldness, authenticity, and an even broader understanding of inclusion.
The rainbow Pride flag beautifully captures this spirit. Originally created in 1978 by Gilbert Baker, the flag represents pride, diversity, identity, and solidarity. Each stripe carries meaning, but together they form something even more powerful: a visible symbol of unity across differences. It stands for self-acceptance and visibility for people who are gay and part of the broader LGBTQ+ community. It represents community support, especially in the face of discrimination or inequality. When I see that flag waving over New Hope each year, I do not simply see colors — I see resilience.
For me, the color green holds particular meaning. In the traditional rainbow flag, green represents nature. Nature is honest. It grows in its own form without apology. It survives seasons of hardship and returns again with life. To me, green also represents nurture and growth — growing solidarity and nurturing our futures. Just as nature evolves and adapts, so has our community. We have grown stronger through adversity, more unified through struggle, and more expansive in our understanding of identity and inclusion.
Green reminds me that Pride is not static. It is alive. It grows. It requires tending, like a garden. It asks us to cultivate compassion, protect one another, and invest in the next generation. The progress we celebrate today did not appear overnight; it was nurtured by those who marched before us. And in turn, we must nurture what we pass forward.
Attending Pride each year in New Hope is my way of honoring that growth. It is a reminder of where we started, how far we have come, and how much further we can go. It is gratitude made visible. It is history walking alongside hope.
– Glenn R.
February’s Story:
When New Hope Celebrates first launched the “i am new hope” campaign in 2017, it was born from a desire to remind our community — and ourselves — that visibility, courage, and connection matter. I remember those early days vividly: the conversations, the brainstorming, the hope that our stories could become a kind of light. And at the center of that creative spark was Gordon Pulaski.
Gordon had a way of seeing people — truly seeing them — in all their color, complexity, and possibility. He didn’t just design campaigns; he designed belonging. He shaped the look and feel of New Hope Celebrates with a kind of effortless brilliance, weaving together artistry, humor, and heart. For over a decade, I had the privilege of being part of his world — the ups, the downs, the laughter, the late-night ideas, the quiet moments of honesty. He was one of my favorite people on the planet, and losing him left a space that still feels tender.
I also think often about how much Gordon taught me about the history and meaning behind the colors themselves. I can still picture us sitting at the table working on one of the Pride Guides — maybe 2013 or 2014 — writing a feature about the Key West Rainbow Flag. We were so proud to have a section of that historic flag at New Hope Celebrates each year from 2007 to 2015. Gordon was adamant that we include a callout graphic showing each color and its meaning, just as Gilbert Baker intended. He wanted people not only to see the flag, but to understand it — to feel the symbolism, the intention, the legacy woven into every stripe. That was Gordon: always teaching, always elevating, always making sure the story behind the color was just as vibrant as the color itself.
So it feels right that this new chapter begins in February, the month of Pink — the color of love, care, and connection. Pink asks us to lead with heart. To remember the people who shaped us. To honor the relationships that made us braver, softer, stronger. And for me, that story includes Gordon.
This year-long “i am new hope” revival is more than a campaign. It’s a tapestry of stories — personal and collective — told one color at a time. Each month, a new shade invites us to reflect on who we are, what we carry, and how our identities intertwine with the community around us. But February sets the tone. It reminds us that Pride begins with love — love for ourselves, love for each other, love for the people who built the foundations we now stand on.
Gordon’s legacy is woven into every part of this project. His creativity shaped our visual identity. His spirit shaped our community. And his heart shaped so many of us personally. As we begin this year of storytelling, we honor him not with a single tribute, but with a living one — a campaign that continues the work he cared about most: celebrating authenticity, uplifting voices, and creating space for everyone to belong.
Wearing the February shirt — Pink: Love • Care • Connection — is a reminder that our stories matter. That the people we’ve loved continue to color our lives. That connection is the thread that holds community together.
As we launch this year’s “i am new hope” journey, I carry Gordon with me. In the creativity he inspired. In the courage he modeled. In the love he gave so generously. And in the belief that every shade tells a story — including this one.
– Sharon F.
Mail-in donations to New Hope Celebrates, PO Box 266, New Hope Pa 18938
Copyright © 2012—2026 New Hope Celebrates Inc. is a 501c3 non-profit. Your donation can be a tax deduction.
Copyright © 2012—2025 New Hope Celebrates Inc. is a 501c3 non profit. Your donation can be a tax deduction.