Take the Rainbow out of my Beer

Recently we posted about our new pride shirts, in support of Hawaii’s Pride month. While this is something we try to refresh every June/October, we have pride flags year round in the brewery.

On this specific post, as simple as showcasing new t-shirts, there was a weird but not unusual response to it:

“Stop the 🌈  this please . Beer good. Separate it.”

While the notion of “take pride/politics/thing out of beer” is nothing new, I was honestly a little perplexed. To anyone who has been coming to our brewery or had our beer, I thought it was pretty obvious where we stand.

But I don’t mind making it clear.

First of all, beer is inseparable from community.

Historically, beer brings many diverse groups of people together. If a couple of different people can bond for a moment over a pint, a lot of our problems today would be solved. I believe we need that common human compassion and unity more now than ever. Dividing and separating our beer from it’s inspiration destroys the purpose. When we compartmentalize away what makes us uncomfortable, we cease to learn, to grow, to evolve.

The craft beer industry isn’t perfect, and in a lot of ways still has a lot of work to do. What I do admire about the craft beer revolution is that it’s been the David to the Goliath of mass corporate beer. It’s punk rock. It’s about reviving small business, centered in local communities, focusing on quality and diverse flavors. It’s cultural. It’s about being able to express complex voices and experiences through taste, history, and agriculture.

Second of all, beer is inseparable from the LGBTQ community.

With the core of what craft beer represents, we can also look to the fact that bars, taverns, pubs, and yes - craft breweries, have always been a rare space of sanctuary.

Going back to colonial times, all of the original 13 colonies carried forward some version of “crime against nature” statutes inherited from English common law.

By 1960, every US state had a law against sodomy, along with lewd conduct, public indecency, and disorderly conduct.

Police used these vague standards to harass and arrest queer people in public spaces.

Common “violations” included:

• Two men or two women dancing together

• Same-sex hand-holding or public affection

• Wearing clothing not matching one’s assigned sex (also tied to cross-dressing ordinances)

• Flirting, conversation, or eye contact interpreted as “sexual solicitation”

• Using gay bars or restrooms as meeting places (police would use undercover “decoys” to entrap patrons)

These laws criminalized same-sex activity, which implicitly criminalized identity. When human identity is criminalized, there are few places we can be ourselves. That’s where bars come in. In taverns and pubs people had a rare zone of authenticity, affirming their existence, a safe sanctuary amid danger and surveillance, and most importantly a place to organize resistance and activism.

Let us not forget, the first Pride was a riot.

Stonewall Inn became an important Greenwich Village institution and gay bar. When police raided Stonewall on June 28th 1969, they roughed up patrons, arrested 13 people - taking suspected cross-dressing patrons and employees into the bathroom and checking their sex. This raid was the match to the powder keg of rampant police harassment and brutality. A full blown riot ensued where the crowd threw pennies, bottles, and cobble stones at the police. The police then barricaded inside Stonewall. Fires were set to the building, but the fire department and riot squad were able to diffuse the situation eventually, dispersing the crowd and putting out the fires. 

The protests continued in New York for the next 5 days.

This galvanized the gay rights movement, political activism, and protests.

That moment — and the decades of resistance before and after it — are why we can even talk about Pride today in the open, over a beer. Bars and breweries were never just places to drink; they were places to belong.

So when someone says “keep Pride out of beer,” I have to disagree — respectfully, but firmly.

Beer is people.

Beer is culture, expression, rebellion, and care.

To me, "taking Pride out of beer" would mean forgetting the people who built these spaces long before us, when they weren’t welcome anywhere else. It would mean turning my back on the same community that’s helped us grow, collaborate, and share stories through what we pour.

Third of all, I don’t believe in slapping a rainbow on something just because it’s pride month.

Many brands roll out a rainbow once a year and call it allyship. I believe the opposite of performative support is action.

That’s why our commitment to our local community shows up in what we brew, who we brew with, and who we stand beside — not just in June or October, but every single day.

• We happily hire anyone who is qualified, no matter their race, sexual identity, and/or creed. I believe diversity of perspective leads to the highest quality of innovation, which is invaluable. I care deeply about the people that have decided to work with us, they have taken this pipe dream and built it into more than I ever could have imagined.

• We host fundraisers, brew collaboration beers, and host community events with and for local LGBTQ+ organizations.

• We work hard to ensure our taproom is a safe, welcoming place for everyone.

• We donate a portion of our Pride merch and collaborative beer sales to groups that make a difference in our own community.

Because beer isn’t just about what’s in the glass — it’s about who’s around the table.

So no, I won’t separate Pride from beer.

We’ll keep celebrating it, brewing it, and sharing it — with everyone who walks through our doors.

Because that’s the kind of beer I take pride in.

- Chrissie

Here are some organizations we have had the honor to collaborate with, donate to, and be friends with:

Trans Lifeline

Cheer Honolulu

Aikāne 'Ohana

Hawaii LGBT Legacy Foundation

Spill the Tea Cafe