In the shade of a large tree behind the stage, where Ru Paul's Drag Race season two star Molly Poppinz had danced at the Pink Pony Club, Telarah mum, Shey Halcroft, watched her daughter kick a rainbow soccer ball around with the kids.
Willow is nine and had been fascinated by the performers and drag queens in their make-up and finery. It's important for her, Ms Halcroft said, to learn about the culture of Pride and acceptance.
"It's massively important, especially at this age," she said at Newcastle Pride Festival's centrepiece event at Hamilton on Saturday afternoon. "For her, this is normal; this is not out of the ordinary. And that's what we need. When we were kids, this was unusual."
"It's nice that they can get outside and get exposed to so much more than they would ... the fact that this has become the norm and (the children) can ask questions and be inquisitive and see different things - it's super important."
Drag queens held court, dotted about Gregson Park amid the hive of activity at the weekend as the Newcastle Pride Festival's main event turned the suburban greenspace into an explosion of vibrant colour.
Across the grounds from where Ms Halcroft was spending the weekend with family, Bernie's Bar resident DJ Tiff was a beacon in a bright rainbow outfit and a giant white foam wig. It had taken Tiff, who goes by Stephen Wall when out of drag, about an hour-and-a-half to complete the look with make-up, long lashes and a glitter beard.
"You get to cheat when you've got a beard," Tiff, a Central Coast hairdresser by trade, said. "You don't have to do this part of your face. 7am is not fun, putting make-up on."
When Mr Wall came out in Queensland around 1990, same-sex relationships were illegal and consensual gay activity was punishable by jail time. The law has come a long way in Australia and abroad, but Mr Wall said there is still an element of hostility.
On a recent holiday to Bangkok with his partner, where Thailand's king had this year signed a marriage equality bill making it the first country in South East Asia to recognise same-sex unions, Mr Wall reflected on the milestone.
"We were walking down the road, hand-in-hand, and no one batted an eyelid," he said. "And I said, if you did that here, you would still get a comment."
"I think Newcastle has advanced, and I think when you do things like this, it makes a really big difference."
Newcastle Pride's founder and president, Lee-Anne McDougall, was overwhelmed. After working hard all year to realise the festival, which began on October 11 and runs through October 26, seeing it all come together was a moving moment.
"It's a long year,' she said with a smile. "But this is our big day, and it's amazing.
"There is work still to be done. I think there will always be work to be done. But there have been big changes ... there were no festivals like this when I was growing up."
"There is always work, but we are going in the right direction. Days like this and events and festivals - we're going in the right direction."
Sam Barrish, with a pair of brightly-coloured braids in her hair, was a relatively new organiser on the Newcastle Pride scene but, like her colleagues, had been hard at work to realise Saturday's event. When she is not coordinating volunteers for Pride, she works in early childhood education and is in a same-sex relationship raising her children.
"I would love to say that we are a lot more progressive than other places I have lived in ... but I see the other side. I see families struggling to go out with their children and feel safe; they don't know where to go or what to turn to. We are a lot more progressive than other places, and we have some amazing things on offer ... but I think we have a long way to go to have that acceptance.
"When we put up social posts and just cop the instant hate straight away. Why do we have (Pride)? What's the purpose of it? Because we want a safe place. We want people to come and feel happy and comfortable to be themselves."
