Merely a year later, some 5,000 activists held the first pride march in New York City — with similar marches held in Chicago and Los Angeles. And the rallying cry of the movement became: “We must all come out of the closet. We must make ourselves known.”

Camus also states in his book that “in every act of rebellion,” the rebel experiences a “complete and spontaneous loyalty to certain aspects of himself.” Just four years after the riots, in 1973, we said “no” to the American Psychiatric Association, and its leaders at long last removed the diagnosis of homosexuality from its official list of mental illnesses.

The next year, 1974, we said “no” to being politically powerless when Elaine Noble, the first out lesbian to run for a state-level political office, was elected to the Massachusetts State Legislature. And, famously, in 1977, an openly gay man, Harvey Milk, was elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors.

But as the battle went on, and as the character of the homosexual was being redrawn in revolt, 1981 brought about the first cases of the AIDS epidemic. And the death toll — and the country’s initial refusal to respond to it — brought to the surface the depth of homophobia, transphobia and other queer-centered bigotry in the American psyche.

A radical rethinking of tactics and actions was needed, and a new kind of gay activist was born. Lambda Legal, GMHC (formerly the Gay Men’s Health Crisis), Act Up and a host of other organizations redefined the way civil rights wars were being fought.

When Act Up members stood, triumphant, on the awning of the Food and Drug Administration building in Bethesda, Md., in 1988, the nation was shown a new kind of L.G.B.T.Q. person: the warrior who would fight every person or institution that stood in the way of their survival.

These groups not only revolutionized the way scientific research was conducted in the country, but also saved hundreds of thousands of people because of the AIDS drugs they propelled to market.