For decades, the Fresno County Fairgrounds have been a stage for both celebration and controversy. In 1942, the site became an assembly center where more than 5,000 Japanese Americans were detained before being sent to internment camps (Rodriguez, 2022). Decades later, a 2005 E. coli outbreak linked to the fair’s petting zoo sickened a young child and led to a $2.2 million settlement (ABC30, 2010). Allegations of financial mismanagement, animal cruelty, and even violence at major events have continued to tarnish its public image. Now, another controversy has emerged – one that reignites questions of accountability and inclusivity. Cornerstone Church of Fresno, a conservative evangelical congregation criticized for its anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric, has again been permitted to host its “Church at the Fair” event this October. Many residents are asking: should a taxpayer-funded venue lend its platform to an organization accused of spreading division?
Cornerstone Church’s activism is grounded in a rigid theological framework that dictates views on sexuality, gender, and marriage. While the church’s website presents a simple statement that “God established monogamous marriage between a male and a female,” its Assemblies of God affiliation reveals a deeper and far more restrictive doctrine. Within this belief system, all non-heterosexual and non-cisgender identities are seen as symptoms of humanity’s “fall from grace,” requiring spiritual “redemption.”
Pastors Jim and Cyndi Franklin, both credentialed through the Assemblies of God, lead the congregation under a movement that teaches gender as fixed and immutable and regards same-sex attraction as a condition to be spiritually corrected. This doctrine doesn’t just disapprove of LGBTQ+ identities—it recasts them as moral failings in need of salvation.
This belief system often reframes discrimination as compassion, promoting “ex-gay” and “ex-transgender” narratives as forms of spiritual healing. These teachings underpin the ideology behind conversion therapy – a practice widely condemned by medical and psychological associations. Publicly, however, Cornerstone adopts a softer tone. Its website highlights a “welcoming environment for individuals from all walks of life,” projecting inclusivity while critics argue it conceals a doctrine that condemns the very identities it claims to embrace.
This duality – public welcome, private condemnation – has long defined Cornerstone’s strategy. Under Pastor Franklin’s leadership, the church became a leading force in California’s Central Valley against LGBTQ+ rights. In 2005, Franklin aligned with the Traditional Values Coalition to oppose same-sex marriage legislation and emerged as a prominent voice during the Proposition 8 campaign. When same-sex marriage became legal in 2013, Cornerstone shifted focus – from legislative battles to cultural confrontation, emphasizing public events and messaging that reasserted its theological stance.
That pivot culminated in 2023, when the church hosted a conference featuring “ex-gay” and “ex-transgender” speakers, advancing the long-discredited notion that sexual orientation and gender identity can be changed. Today, Cornerstone’s activism intertwines with a broader Christian nationalist movement—challenging secular governance and promoting religious dominance in public life. Its defiance of COVID-19 mandates, campaigns for religious symbols in civic spaces, and alliances with figures like Turning Point USA’s Charlie Kirk all underscore a consistent goal: to reshape community life around its version of biblical morality.
For more than 147 years, the Fresno County Fairgrounds have been a symbol of community celebration – a place for food, music, and shared memories. Yet beneath the bright lights lies a more complicated history. During World War II, the grounds became a temporary incarceration site for thousands of Japanese Americans. “They were prisons, what else can you call them?” recalled former detainee Frankie Wilkinson (Rodriguez, 2022).
Controversy followed in later decades. In 2005, a two-year-old contracted a severe E. coli infection traced to the fair’s petting zoo. And in 2023, a state audit criticized the fair for financial mismanagement between 2020 and 2021 (Fox26 News, 2023). Together, these incidents point to a long-running problem: weak oversight at one of Fresno’s most visible public institutions.
In October 2022, that pattern continued when Cornerstone Church hosted its first “Church at the Big Fresno Fair” service – a religious gathering held on publicly funded grounds. At the time, Deputy Director Lauri King, who later became CEO, began allowing faith-based organizations to host worship events on state property. The decision blurred the line between church and state and raised pressing questions about whether all members of the public were equally welcome.
When contacted for comment, former CEO Lauri King did not respond. The fair’s communications department also declined to answer a series of written questions, including whether officials had considered Cornerstone’s record of anti-LGBTQ+ advocacy before approving the event. The church has repeatedly denied the legitimacy of transgender identities, characterized LGBTQ+ identities as a “choice,” and hosted a 2023 event titled Taking Back the Rainbow, aimed at reclaiming Pride imagery for religious use.
Given that history, fair officials were asked whether the partnership could alienate LGBTQ+ attendees or undermine the fair’s reputation as a space for everyone. Additional inquiries sought clarification on safety measures for marginalized visitors. None were answered.
Their silence leaves critical questions unanswered: How does a taxpayer-funded institution reconcile its duty to serve a diverse community with its decision to host a group accused of promoting exclusion? And for a venue that has long symbolized community celebration, can The Big Fresno Fair truly claim to welcome everyone?
From its role in wartime incarceration to recent financial scandals, the fairgrounds’ story mirrors Fresno’s own struggle with accountability and equity. The decision to partner with Cornerstone Church adds another layer to that legacy—forcing residents to ask whose voices are amplified on public property, and whose are left out. Until those questions are addressed, the fairgrounds will remain both a site of celebration and a reminder of the city’s unfinished conversation about inclusion.
