GRAND RAPIDS, MINN. — Ten minutes before the start of a recent Human Rights Commission meeting here, there was chatter in the hallway of City Hall and then dozens of residents poured through the double doors — dozens more than usually attend this monthly meeting.

Some wore rainbow stickers, and one had wrapped a trans pride flag over her shoulders like a cape. When three rows of seats filled, some people took to the floor or stood against a wall.

Itasca Pride, an organization so new that its nonprofit status is still pending, is in the process of planning its first pride event, a day of vendors and family-friendly entertainment on June 23 at Old Central School.

But its plans were quickly countered with plans for a "straight pride" parade to "protect the children" at the same location on the same day. The walk downtown will "promote spouses and couples the way God intended; Male and female," according to the event's Facebook post.

So Itasca Pride's treasurer Karter Starling took to the podium of the normally quiet Human Rights Commission meeting to introduce himself and the new organization.

"Our human rights are currently under attack, no matter who is in power, because hateful people choose on a daily basis — just in the limited time they have on this beautiful planet — hurting others," Starling said.

Starling, 25, and his spouse moved to Minnesota in part because of its hate-crime protections, the accessibility of gender-affirming care and climate resilience. Grand Rapids edged out Vermont when they made their choice. He feels safe here, he said, but the local LGBT community has faced responses ranging from rock-throwing to death threats.

"As I'm sure many of you know, our existence as queer people, but especially queer people in the Itasca community, has consistently been met with hatred and resistance from a very loud, very hateful minority," Starling said.

Beyond the event in June, the group's plans include a queer film festival, clothing swap and hobby gatherings.

Commissioners responded to Starling with questions, comments, and ideas: Ronald Grossman said his own son, who is gay, left his hometown because of intolerance. Grossman asked if threats are reported to the local authorities. If not, its members should consider keeping their own log, R.D. Learmont suggested.

Angella Erickson, the commission's chair, asked whether Itasca Pride was looking for vendors or sponsors. It is, Starling confirmed.

"I know, for example, Tall Timber Days and for Indigenous People's Day there are those big banners that go across the road," Starling said. "We would love one of those. That would be so fun."

Itasca Pride invited supporters to show up for Wednesday's meeting via social media. There was no opposition that day.

Calls and messages to one of the "straight pride" parade's organizers listed on Facebook were not returned.

Inside the hearing, several people wore "trans justice" stickers, and Janet Miller held a sign — "Grand Rapids welcomes everyone" — above her head.

Luka Pearson, 23, is relatively new to Grand Rapids, having moved to Minnesota to work for the Department of Natural Resources, and found an immediate connection with other members of the Grand Rapids LGBT community. Pearson took photographs during the meeting as Starling spoke.

Rita Johnson said she is usually the only person at Human Rights Commission meetings.

"I've been supporting the gays since the '70s," she said.

As the meeting went on, it segued into an open forum. Audience members shared personal stories of people in positions of authority not supporting young queer people, accounts of being purposefully misgendered, and pride flags stolen from yards.

An event for the LGBT community and its allies isn't new here. But Alice Moren of Kootasca Community Action said there has been a shift from a group that organizes LGBTQ community events to Itasca Pride, which also takes on justice-seeking and advocacy work.

Erickson asked Starling for a copy of Itasca Pride's event budget so the commissioners would have time to approve of any financial sponsorship at its May meeting. She was met with an enthusiastic, "Absolutely."

After Starling left the podium, supporters filed out of City Hall and gathered on the sidewalk across the street from Old Central School, the site of the upcoming event. (Inside, the meeting went on with a far smaller audience.) Starling was repeatedly congratulated for his presentation to the commission.

"It felt great," he said.