Hey everyone, as an FYI, I have recently accepted the invitation of Elizabeth Marquardt at the Family Scholars Blog (FSB) to be a guest blogger over at FSB (!).
I will join Barry Deutsch, of Alas, A Blog, in participating as a feminist, pro-LGBT blogger at the site.
In my first post there, which is being published today, I outline a few of the reasons I accepted Elizabeth's invitation. Although posting there may from time to time cause me to be misidentified as something along the lines of a "rightwing anti-gay" (as Barry recently was, LOL), I am interested in the civil exchange of ideas with people who have quite different views than my own, some of whom are influential players in many of the debates surrounding same-sex marriage, gender, and family structure in the US.
Anyway, here's my first post:
"You Say It's Bullying, I Say It's PC Gone Too Far (And Vice Versa)"
Hello, Family Scholars Blog (FSB) readers! I'd like to begin by thanking Elizabeth for inviting me to guest post. Although I don't comment too often here, I am a regular reader of FSB and appreciate many of the conversations the articles inspire.
As a blog for the Institute for American Values (IAV), which tends to lean against supporting marriage equality for same-sex couples, it is a gracious and trusting act to give me, a feminist, lesbian, pro-equality blogger, a voice here. (I guess this is a good place to mention, in case it's not clear, that the IAV doesn't necessarily endorse what I write here, and nor do I necessarily endorse the opinions of IAV or any other FSB blogger).
I also appreciate the opportunity to interact with folks like David Blankenhorn, Maggie Gallagher (who shows up occasionally), and many of you all about contentious issues in the comment threads. I don't always agree with people here, but as far as the Internet goes, I've found FSB to be a relatively civil forum where many people try to rise above treating "the other side" like ridiculous caricatures. In allowing comments, I think most of the moderators try to be fair and strike that difficult-to-find balance between keeping people safe from hostility while allowing all kinds of opposing viewpoints.
With that being said, I'd like to jump right in and open up a conversation about civility, particularly in "mixed company." (Oh, this is also a good place for me to mention that I do not think I'm perfect, or have been perfect, in the civility department on the Internet. I think an important part of an honest conversation about civility is owning our own capacity for hostility and aggression. In conversations, I have had opportunities to stop cycles of aggression that I did not take, choosing instead to take the easy road of reacting to aggression with further aggression.)
I think, generally, when one sees oneself as a victim or part of an oppressed class, it can be difficult to simultaneously see oneself as an agent of aggression or incivility. When thinking of the Gay Culture Wars in particular, and by that I mean the opposing views that homosexuality is immoral/unhealthy/deviant versus the notion that it is not, I have seen people on both sides adopt an "I'm a victim of [circle one: anti-LGBT bigots or secular homosexualists] therefore I'm incapable of hurting anyone" mentality.
I don't intend to imply that Both Sides Are Just As Bad, for I certainly have my own view about which side is more powerful and aggressive. Yet, I do think many LGBT advocates let ourselves and each other off the hook too easily for engaging in incivility against anti-equality advocates under the reasoning that "they started it, they're mean to us, they deserve it." I advocate for a greater awareness for how such a view not only disrespects the human dignity of others, but is detrimental to our advocacy.
At one popular gay blog, for instance, a writer ridiculed Michelle Bachmann's outfit and made a "joke" about her husband (spoiler alert!) not being gay. When several commenters, jumped in to say that such attacks are out of line, some people reasoned that she deserved it because of her anti-gay opinions and that it was just "harmless" fun.
As I looked at the blogger's short post, I kept thinking, how might a conservative woman who opposes LGBT rights read his "joke"? Would she be more or less likely to reconsider her views on homosexuality?
I also find it problematic that the prominent Dan Savage, a gay man who founded a popular anti-bullying campaign, makes it clear through other campaigns he has founded that it is okay, actually, to bully some people.
Sure, chalk these up as "harmless" jokes, but are they really "harmless" to the people on the receiving end of them? Of course not, and that's the point. And sure, the people harmed by this bullying are often bullies to LGBT people. But, if a person already believes that LGBT people are evil villains, don't these irrelevant personal attacks only further cement that view?
These personal attacks are mostly venting that appeals only to those who already agree with us about LGBT rights and further polarizes the opposition.
Looking at those who oppose LGBT equality, attorney Chuck Cooper argued during the Prop 8 trial that it would be a "slur" on the 7 million Californians who voted on the ban on marriage licenses for same-sex couples to suggest that they had anti-gay, bigoted reasons for doing so.
Sure, I would concede that some people might have civil reasons for opposing equality, and yet how might the words and actions of certain groups, commentators, and activists further cement the view that, yes, actually lots of people really do have anti-gay, bigoted reasons for opposing marriage equality?
I'm reminded of Stacy, a Catholic blogger who wrote an infamous post about the horrors of having to live in a society where same-sex couples show non-sexual affection with one another in public spaces. I'm reminded of articles that refer to representation of gay and lesbian characters in the media as an infection that ought to be staunched and avoided. I'm reminded of some of the commenters who congregate at the National Organization for Marriage (NOM) blog and call equalty advocates names like marriage corruption vandals" while referencing the so-called "homosexual manifesto" for ruining society.
I question whether those who agree with such viewpoints have an accurate understanding of how, to many LGBT people, such statements are not at all harmless and are, to us, actually quite hostile. With such an understanding, they might better understand LGBT people's accusations of anti-gay bullying. It's an understanding that is sorely lacking, as some opponents of LGBT equality consider it to be "mean," "bullying," or "a silencing tactic" when equality advocates call them bigots or bullies.
Regardless of whether one sees that hostility oneself, or views it as PC Gone Too Far whining, perhaps it can be useful for such people to wonder how posting such articles might further cement the "other side's" notion that those who oppose marriage equality or LGBT representation in the media actually are anti-gay bigots?
What do you all think?
Related: Conversation About Civility
Showing posts with label Guest Blogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guest Blogs. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Dan Savage: Please Stop
[Trigger warning for fat hatred, fat shaming, dehumanization, bullying, suicide, and child abuse.]
In September 2010, Dan Savage founded the It Gets Better Project in response to the recent suicides of gay youth who had been bullied. About founding this project, Savage wrote:
It's a great idea, to have adults who have lived as children in a homophobic society telling kids that life might not always be as difficult.
But does Dan Savage think the bullying of gay kids is the only type of bullying that counts?
Read more, at Shakesville, where I have written a guest post.
In September 2010, Dan Savage founded the It Gets Better Project in response to the recent suicides of gay youth who had been bullied. About founding this project, Savage wrote:
"I wish I could have talked to this kid for five minutes. I wish I could have told Billy that it gets better. I wish I could have told him that, however bad things were, however isolated and alone he was, it gets better."
It's a great idea, to have adults who have lived as children in a homophobic society telling kids that life might not always be as difficult.
But does Dan Savage think the bullying of gay kids is the only type of bullying that counts?
Read more, at Shakesville, where I have written a guest post.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The Privilege of "Normal-ish" Gays and Lesbians
(This article has also been posted at the Family Equality Council Blog.)
I recently read a thought-provoking essay by a blogger I admire very much. It made me confront and re-examine many of my beliefs. I don't agree with everything this blogger wrote, but the essay added more nuance to my position on marriage equality and my beliefs regarding the implications that the marriage equality movement has for non-traditional families.
In this essay, Angry Brown Butch describes feeling unsettled upon reading a newspaper article about the recent same-sex weddings taking place in California. Basically, the referenced article discussed "gay leaders" warning the LGBT community to "be aware" of the images they would potentially be supplying to the other side- meaning those who opposed marriage equality. In other words, the leaders were essentially saying no dudes in dresses. Why? As Angry Brown Butch writes:
It's true that the marriage equality movement is predicated on this notion that gay people are "normal" and just like straight people. By necessity, due to the nature of the resistance to marriage equality, the marriage movement must predicate itself on this notion in order to make even small civil-union-sized gains. For instance, take but one example of a "marriage defender" who cites several long-term-but-non-monogamous gay couple who want to marry. This "marriage defender" will then argue that monogamy is an essential feature of marriage and will use the fact of these gay couples' non-monogamy to argue that the "gay community" as a whole does not know what marriage is. And further, that prevalent non-monogamy among gays is yet another reason why gay people should not be allowed to marry.
Personally, I think that in the struggle for marriage equality, marriage equality advocates who do value monogamy and who do think the state should sanction marriage are sort of caught in the middle. On the one side, we have often-bigoted "marriage defenders" pointing to drag queens in dresses saying "look at how immoral and confused gay people are." They point to high rates of HIV and STDs among gay men and say "gay people spread disease." In other words, most "marriage defenders" point to people who are not me in order to make generalizations about me, thereby rendering my experience in the world invisible. It's certainly not right for bigots to make moral judgments about members of our community, and it angers me. But what also angers me is that "marriage defenders" refuse to acknowledge that "normal-ish" gay people also exist.
I know, woe is me, right?
Yet, on the other side, we have- for lack of a better term- "non-conforming" members of the LGBT community declaring that marriage equality activists don't care about "non-conforming" queers. Rather, we ignore those "bad" gays, take advantage of our "normalcy" privilege, and selfishly seek equality for ourselves. Admittedly, my first instinct upon hearing such a claim is to become defensive. I do care about and respect all of those in the LGBT community and I hate the anti-gay propaganda that our opponents spread. Yet, upon reflection, I have to agree with Angry Brown Butch's statement about marriage equality, which:
Confronting our own privileges is not supposed to be comfortable or easy. Yet doing so is something I continually try to do. Personally, I value monogamy and, in spite of my Marxist tendencies (hee-hee), consider myself one of those "normal-ish" gays. Marriage, to me, is generally two loving committed adults in a sexually monogamous relationship. Accordingly, in seeking state-sanctioned marriage equality, I have sought to prove my "normalcy" to "marriage defenders." We're not all like them, I have argued, pointing to non-monogamous gays. But at the same time, I am able to value other people's experiences in life regarding non-monogamy, gender conformity, and family formation.As one who is denied marital rights, I see how strongly society values the marital relationship and how loving-yet-non-marital families and relationships are demeaned and devalued.
I also know that vast amounts of resources are dedicated to opposing the right of people like me to marry and that, therefore, accounts for why the marriage equality movement has, to the chagrin of many,"devoted so much time and attention and resources" to the cause. Yet, just because marriage equality advocates are spending time, money, and resources to the cause it doesn't mean the LGBT community at large is not addressing other important issues the community faces. To suggest otherwise is to make a claim strikingly similar to that of a "marriage defender" whose claims about the "gay community" I have previously addressed. The LGBT community is not monolithic and many of its members of all races, incomes, genders, and identities are trying to address the injustices imposed upon our community and our families. Marriage equality is but one issue our community is facing. But I will not stop advocating for full equality just because our community is also facing other important issues.
That being said, I am willing to reconsider my approach and some of my beliefs. I definitely believe that so long as the state is doling out marriage licenses with a host of attendant privileges, benefits, and rights, it should not do so on a discriminatory basis. Or, it should have really good reasons for doing so. (That's a really big "or," I know). The denial of these rights has very real consequences to families from a legal and financial standpoint. At the same time, I too
Tangibly and practically, I'm still searching for what this means to me. Take away the state's power to say what "marriage" is? Maybe. De-couple the numerous benefits of marriage from the legal status of "marriage"? Perhaps. Law professor Katherine M. Franke has made a strong case similar to Angry Brown Butch's, that "marriage equality for same sex couples must be undertaken, at a minimum, in a way that is compatible with efforts to dislodge marriage from its normatively superior status as compared with other forms of human attachment, commitment and desire.... we must unseat marriage as the measure of all things."
I realize that is a scary statement for many "marriage defenders" to hear. Yet, these are discussions that those on all sides of the marriage debate need to keep having. And, they should take place free from propaganda, free of scare tactics, and free of over-generalizations and simplistic thinking. I will continue seeking knowledge and opposing ideas. And, perhaps most importantly, I give myself permission to change my mind.
The floor is yours.
I recently read a thought-provoking essay by a blogger I admire very much. It made me confront and re-examine many of my beliefs. I don't agree with everything this blogger wrote, but the essay added more nuance to my position on marriage equality and my beliefs regarding the implications that the marriage equality movement has for non-traditional families.
In this essay, Angry Brown Butch describes feeling unsettled upon reading a newspaper article about the recent same-sex weddings taking place in California. Basically, the referenced article discussed "gay leaders" warning the LGBT community to "be aware" of the images they would potentially be supplying to the other side- meaning those who opposed marriage equality. In other words, the leaders were essentially saying no dudes in dresses. Why? As Angry Brown Butch writes:
"Because the marriage equality movement is largely predicated on the notion that us queers are just like 'everyone else,' meaning mostly white, mostly middle-class or up, gender conforming monogamists. You know, the non-threatening queers. The rest of us should apparently find a nice closet to go hide in for a while, lest we threaten the rights that are apparently meant for the more upstanding, respectable members of the LGsomeotherlessimportantletters community."
It's true that the marriage equality movement is predicated on this notion that gay people are "normal" and just like straight people. By necessity, due to the nature of the resistance to marriage equality, the marriage movement must predicate itself on this notion in order to make even small civil-union-sized gains. For instance, take but one example of a "marriage defender" who cites several long-term-but-non-monogamous gay couple who want to marry. This "marriage defender" will then argue that monogamy is an essential feature of marriage and will use the fact of these gay couples' non-monogamy to argue that the "gay community" as a whole does not know what marriage is. And further, that prevalent non-monogamy among gays is yet another reason why gay people should not be allowed to marry.
Personally, I think that in the struggle for marriage equality, marriage equality advocates who do value monogamy and who do think the state should sanction marriage are sort of caught in the middle. On the one side, we have often-bigoted "marriage defenders" pointing to drag queens in dresses saying "look at how immoral and confused gay people are." They point to high rates of HIV and STDs among gay men and say "gay people spread disease." In other words, most "marriage defenders" point to people who are not me in order to make generalizations about me, thereby rendering my experience in the world invisible. It's certainly not right for bigots to make moral judgments about members of our community, and it angers me. But what also angers me is that "marriage defenders" refuse to acknowledge that "normal-ish" gay people also exist.
I know, woe is me, right?
Yet, on the other side, we have- for lack of a better term- "non-conforming" members of the LGBT community declaring that marriage equality activists don't care about "non-conforming" queers. Rather, we ignore those "bad" gays, take advantage of our "normalcy" privilege, and selfishly seek equality for ourselves. Admittedly, my first instinct upon hearing such a claim is to become defensive. I do care about and respect all of those in the LGBT community and I hate the anti-gay propaganda that our opponents spread. Yet, upon reflection, I have to agree with Angry Brown Butch's statement about marriage equality, which:
"has never been and can never be about true equality and justice for all people who fall within the LGBT spectrum. That’s because legal marriage is about sanctioning and rewarding certain kinds of relationships while disqualifying and demeaning others."
Confronting our own privileges is not supposed to be comfortable or easy. Yet doing so is something I continually try to do. Personally, I value monogamy and, in spite of my Marxist tendencies (hee-hee), consider myself one of those "normal-ish" gays. Marriage, to me, is generally two loving committed adults in a sexually monogamous relationship. Accordingly, in seeking state-sanctioned marriage equality, I have sought to prove my "normalcy" to "marriage defenders." We're not all like them, I have argued, pointing to non-monogamous gays. But at the same time, I am able to value other people's experiences in life regarding non-monogamy, gender conformity, and family formation.As one who is denied marital rights, I see how strongly society values the marital relationship and how loving-yet-non-marital families and relationships are demeaned and devalued.
I also know that vast amounts of resources are dedicated to opposing the right of people like me to marry and that, therefore, accounts for why the marriage equality movement has, to the chagrin of many,"devoted so much time and attention and resources" to the cause. Yet, just because marriage equality advocates are spending time, money, and resources to the cause it doesn't mean the LGBT community at large is not addressing other important issues the community faces. To suggest otherwise is to make a claim strikingly similar to that of a "marriage defender" whose claims about the "gay community" I have previously addressed. The LGBT community is not monolithic and many of its members of all races, incomes, genders, and identities are trying to address the injustices imposed upon our community and our families. Marriage equality is but one issue our community is facing. But I will not stop advocating for full equality just because our community is also facing other important issues.
That being said, I am willing to reconsider my approach and some of my beliefs. I definitely believe that so long as the state is doling out marriage licenses with a host of attendant privileges, benefits, and rights, it should not do so on a discriminatory basis. Or, it should have really good reasons for doing so. (That's a really big "or," I know). The denial of these rights has very real consequences to families from a legal and financial standpoint. At the same time, I too
"question whether fighting for marriage as a state-run institution is the best strategy for queer liberation more broadly....Instead of linking state benefits like healthcare, housing and welfare to marital privilege, they should be detached from marriage and available to all, regardless of marital or citizenship status. Rather than furthering the norm of two partners acting as a single economic childrearing unit, we argue for a movement that embraces multiple meanings of family, and recognizes that marriage and domestic partnership are not always optimal or desired choices. Finally, we believe we can better serve marginalized communities by fighting against all state regulation of sexual and gender choices, identities and expressions."
Tangibly and practically, I'm still searching for what this means to me. Take away the state's power to say what "marriage" is? Maybe. De-couple the numerous benefits of marriage from the legal status of "marriage"? Perhaps. Law professor Katherine M. Franke has made a strong case similar to Angry Brown Butch's, that "marriage equality for same sex couples must be undertaken, at a minimum, in a way that is compatible with efforts to dislodge marriage from its normatively superior status as compared with other forms of human attachment, commitment and desire.... we must unseat marriage as the measure of all things."
I realize that is a scary statement for many "marriage defenders" to hear. Yet, these are discussions that those on all sides of the marriage debate need to keep having. And, they should take place free from propaganda, free of scare tactics, and free of over-generalizations and simplistic thinking. I will continue seeking knowledge and opposing ideas. And, perhaps most importantly, I give myself permission to change my mind.
The floor is yours.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
"Family Values" Groups Out of Touch With American Families
This week, the Family Equality Council was kind enough to contact me to write a guest post on the group's blog. Take a gander at this group's website and blog. As an organization working to ensure equality for LGBT families, this group serves an important role in validating "non-traditional" families and countering the idea that heterosexual nuclear families are automatically superior than every other family form. Here is my post:
What if 1.1 million Americans could be mobilized to support initiatives that actually benefited families? Instead, what we get from groups who claim to exist to protect families are initiatives that, with their vague and abstract goal of defending an institution that heterosexuals have already redefined, do nothing but further divide our nation and distract from solutions that could help families in real ways.
The title of this post, at first glance, seems like a no-brainer to many in the gay rights movement. We have known for a long time that some groups have co-opted the phrase "family values," imbued the phrase with their own conservative and anti-gay values, and repackaged these values as though they are universal "family values." The effect of this repackaging, of course, is that those who do not agree with these values are, by definition, anti-family.
But, do family values groups speak on behalf of most families?
Nuclear families, consisting of a heterosexual married couple and their biological offspring, at 24% of families are far from a universal model of family. In fact, it must be asked how relevant "family values" groups are who idealize this family model and how adequate such a universal model of family is in our diverse world.
In fact, "family values" groups are losing their ability to monopolize the word "family." For instance, a recent headlining poll of over one thousand registered voters in California found that a slight majority (51%) favored allowing gay couples to marry. These numbers are probably quite shocking to those who get their anti-gay news solely from "family values" sites. While these numbers may not predict the outcome of a future contest to amend the constitution, they do indicate that the recent California ruling was not the action of "rogue" justices acting contrary to most people's current opinions. While anti-gay forces like to paint an extremely lopsided opposition to marriage equality, the reality is much different. This so-called culture war is not a matter of a few "rogue" justices versus millions of people. It's millions of people versus millions of people.
For anyone paying attention to the trend in public opinion over the years, the increasing support for marriage equality is not too surprising. I find it incredible and encouraging that so many heterosexuals are willing to support equality, see through the propaganda that is constantly telling them that gay marriage will be the downfall of society, and support the rights of a previously largely-vilified minority group. The only surprising feature about constitutional amendments banning same-sex couples from marriage is not that these bans have passed, but that they have not passed by much greater margins. After all, gay people only constitute 1-2% of the entire population, as some "family values" groups claim!
In this article, I argue that "family values" groups are becoming increasingly out of touch with what American families are and what they want for our nation. The ideal of equality is not just some elitist notion perpetuated by academics and radicals, it is a concept that speaks to what America strives to be. That "family values" groups force us as a nation to dedicate time, resources, and money that could be much better spent addressing actual threats to families is, perhaps, a testament to how these groups do not actually benefit families.
Personally, I think many anti-gay "family values" groups are possible hate groups, although this is not true of all such groups. When I use the phrase "hate group" I use it in full acknowledgment that the group in question likely objects to being called a "hate group." Not only is there no standard definition of "hate group," groups that have been labeled "hate groups" have turned around and called the labeling group a "hate group." Humorously (and sadly), however, it is interesting to note that even the KKK objects to being called a hate group.
I like the Southern Poverty Law Center's definition of "hate group" because it makes an important distinction. Specifically, hate groups "have beliefs or practices that attack or malign an entire class of people. And, "anti-gay groups are organizations that go beyond mere disagreement with homosexuality by subjecting gays and lesbians to campaigns of personal vilification." This qualifier is important and likely one that anti-gay groups labeled as hate groups overlook. Anti-gay groups that "merely" disagree with and object to homosexuality are not necessarily hate groups. Let's keep that in mind for the duration of this article.
1. Most Americans Support Benefits
A particularly virulent anti-gay group that deigns to protect "family values" is Americans for Truth [sic] About Homosexuality.
Rather than merely disagreeing with homosexuality, it misrepresents gay men, lesbians, our families, and our goals. For instance, a recent article coming from this group is this inaccurate statement ironically made in defense of a college baseball player accused of committing a hate crime against a gay man: "few on the Left hate like the homosexual activists (with radical pro-abortion-on-demand feminists a close second)." This statement is part of AFT[sic]AH's ongoing series documenting "homosexual hate" a series that paints some gay people as hateful and encourages the generalization that all gay people are, therefore, hateful.
In my view, and this is a trait AFT[sic]AH shares with several "family values" groups, there really seems to be no other purpose to AFT[sic]AH than trying to ensure that gay people win no battle, however large or small, in the struggle for equal rights. In doing so, this group doesn't merely disagree with homosexuality, it vilifies gay men and lesbians. AFT[sic]AH founder Peter LaBarbera, for instance, has written that "organized homosexuality is a force for evil in our society" and that he "believes that homosexual practice is always wrong but that people can leave the homosexual lifestyle." Unfortunately, LaBarbera also hyperbolically characterizes criticism of his articles and thinking as "fanatical attacks" and has vilified those who disagree with him, such as Pam Spaulding, as a "radical lesbian" and a "vicious anti-Christian lesbian activist."
I would be surprised, in fact, if he did not attempt to discredit me in the same manner.
Too bad for Peter's life mission, AFT[sic]AH doesn't speak to, for, or on behalf of most Americans. Despite the fact that most Americans favor granting some sort of legal recognition to same-sex couples, AFT[sic]AH has opposed legislation that would grant same-sex couples the dignity of even entering into civil unions. In the obsessively anti-gay mindset, civil unions are too close to marriage, and we simply cannot have that. It's all a slippery slope, you know. If one-half of a gay couple can be on his/her partner's health insurance plan, marriage will be "deconstructed." And we all know where that leads. (Or do we?)
At the same time, these man-on-dog-end-of-the-world scare tactics don't work on most people anymore. Perhaps Americans find it difficult to trust the accuracy and objectivity of the articles written by a man who, for one recent example, figuratively embraced Sally Kern and called it a "privilege" to share an anti-gay platform with her. Most Americans are willing to concede that gay couples deserve at least some of the protections, benefits, and rights of marriage even if they aren't ready to call same-sex unions "marriage."
For instance, 77% of registered voters in California surveyed support either civil unions or marriage. A much smaller 19% believe that same-sex couples deserve no legal recognition. Nationwide, other polls indicate that 54-56% of Americans believe that same-sex couples deserve at least civil unions.
While substantial numbers of Americans still unfortunately want to deny same-sex couples at least some legal recognition, the trend leans toward greater tolerance over time. Polls from 8 years ago, for instance, indicate that only 41-43% of Americans supported civil unions. What this trend means is that hate groups, perhaps because of their amusing exaggerated predictions of future harm and their unwillingness to concede anything to the other side, are becoming more out of touch with most Americans. As anti-gay hate groups grow more desperate, their rhetoric gets more exaggerated, dishonest, and mean-spirited. Americans know that that sort of speech isn't indicative of "family values," even though groups are free to utter it. Further, this hyperbolic desperation fails to speak to the real problems that American families are facing.
2. Most Americans Realize that Other Issues are More Important
There are several explanations as to why heterosexual Americans are becoming more tolerant of homosexuality than in the past. For some straight people, coming to know real life gay people has made them realize that they had, thanks to anti-gay propaganda, been seriously misinformed. For others, they became disgusted by the ferocious anti-gay backlash and apparent obsessive zeal with which their fellow Americans sought to deny equal rights to others.
Another likely explanation is that people are tiring of the issue. In light of the very real problems and myriad other social issues our nation is facing, it is difficult for many Americans to justify a continued obsession with countering the "gay agenda." While anti-gay groups treat opposing the gay agenda as though it is the most important issue we are facing, the vast majority of Americans do not believe that it is.
First off, the efforts to "defend" marriage in California will cost upwards of $30 million, according to recent estimates. Many families, something that "family values" groups are supposed to be protecting, could benefit from that money. But are they? Defending marriage, of course, means changing state constitutions to prohibit two people of the same-sex from marrying. Okay. But once marriage has been "saved," then what? Surely, marriage would have to perpetually be defended against a gay invasion. At what point would groups that pride themselves on their family values begin to address the myriad of other problems affecting American families with a fraction of as much zeal as they devote to opposing homosexuality?
Why we should be concerned with "family values" groups that obsessively focus on homosexuality is that they are largely responsible, via their endless Action Alerts and anti-gay ballot initiatives, for distracting voters from real issues.
See, Americans are beginning to realize that even if they pass anti-gay amendments, the problems that actually affect them, their families, and society are still inconveniently lingering. These other "family" issues are sort of an 800-pound gorilla, ignored by "family values" groups, that stubbornly refuses to go away just because we have "defended marriage."
What are these other issues that affect families in real ways? While Peter LaBarbera believes that opposing homosexuality is a "titanic struggle for the soul of our nation," back on Earth 70% of Americans in a recent open-ended poll listed either the economy, jobs, war, health care, terrorism, or ethics in government as their single most important issue in choosing the next president. Other polls indicate that much larger percentages of Americans are more concerned with non-gay-related issues than they are with opposing everything gay.
In 2004, voters passed 11 of 11 constitutional amendments banning gay marriage, with a total of 26 bans in effect. Now that that's all settled in Alaska, Hawaii, Louisiana, Nebraska, Nevada, Missouri, Arkansas, Georgia, Kentucky, Michigan, Mississippi, Montana, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Utah, Idaho, Colorado, Tennessee, Texas, South Carolina, South Dakota, Wisconsin, Virginia and Kansas, I wonder how the families in these states are faring. Are their lives better? Are they "safer" now? How are all of those children about whom we are so concerned?
By many indicators, families in these (mostly) red states are faring worse than they were since our president, and the anti-gay "family values" chorus, opportunistically declared war on non-nucular families. Record numbers of American families are on food stamps, 47 million Americans lack health insurance, unemployment continues to hover at around 5% (compared to 4% 8 years ago), and the percentage of Americans losing their homes in foreclosures are much higher than they were last year. Disturbingly, I see little or no concern from "family values" groups about these indicators. The one constant is these groups' obsessive opposition to same-sex marriage. Don't have a job? Lost your house? It's clear that we should ban gay marriage!
Give me a break.
If our nation is indeed being ruined, it's not gay people who are doing the destroying. It's anti-gay hate groups and "family values" are because they insist on making an issue out of what is a non-issue. By obsessively blaming the gays and proposing simple-minded solutions to complex problems these groups are woefully out of touch with the realities most families are facing. But worse than that, they lack the ability to conceive of real solutions to real problems. In due time, I predict that these groups will be as irrelevant as Fred whatshisname's anti-gay hate church.
It's time that we, as Americans, stop falling for the lie that two legitimate sides to this alleged culture war exist. When it comes to tolerance versus hate, hate is not a viable alternative. And to say that opposing gay rights is the most important battle of our time is a sadly privileged and out-of-touch statement in a world brimming with very real human suffering.
What if 1.1 million Americans could be mobilized to support initiatives that actually benefited families? Instead, what we get from groups who claim to exist to protect families are initiatives that, with their vague and abstract goal of defending an institution that heterosexuals have already redefined, do nothing but further divide our nation and distract from solutions that could help families in real ways.
The title of this post, at first glance, seems like a no-brainer to many in the gay rights movement. We have known for a long time that some groups have co-opted the phrase "family values," imbued the phrase with their own conservative and anti-gay values, and repackaged these values as though they are universal "family values." The effect of this repackaging, of course, is that those who do not agree with these values are, by definition, anti-family.
But, do family values groups speak on behalf of most families?
Nuclear families, consisting of a heterosexual married couple and their biological offspring, at 24% of families are far from a universal model of family. In fact, it must be asked how relevant "family values" groups are who idealize this family model and how adequate such a universal model of family is in our diverse world.
In fact, "family values" groups are losing their ability to monopolize the word "family." For instance, a recent headlining poll of over one thousand registered voters in California found that a slight majority (51%) favored allowing gay couples to marry. These numbers are probably quite shocking to those who get their anti-gay news solely from "family values" sites. While these numbers may not predict the outcome of a future contest to amend the constitution, they do indicate that the recent California ruling was not the action of "rogue" justices acting contrary to most people's current opinions. While anti-gay forces like to paint an extremely lopsided opposition to marriage equality, the reality is much different. This so-called culture war is not a matter of a few "rogue" justices versus millions of people. It's millions of people versus millions of people.
For anyone paying attention to the trend in public opinion over the years, the increasing support for marriage equality is not too surprising. I find it incredible and encouraging that so many heterosexuals are willing to support equality, see through the propaganda that is constantly telling them that gay marriage will be the downfall of society, and support the rights of a previously largely-vilified minority group. The only surprising feature about constitutional amendments banning same-sex couples from marriage is not that these bans have passed, but that they have not passed by much greater margins. After all, gay people only constitute 1-2% of the entire population, as some "family values" groups claim!
In this article, I argue that "family values" groups are becoming increasingly out of touch with what American families are and what they want for our nation. The ideal of equality is not just some elitist notion perpetuated by academics and radicals, it is a concept that speaks to what America strives to be. That "family values" groups force us as a nation to dedicate time, resources, and money that could be much better spent addressing actual threats to families is, perhaps, a testament to how these groups do not actually benefit families.
Personally, I think many anti-gay "family values" groups are possible hate groups, although this is not true of all such groups. When I use the phrase "hate group" I use it in full acknowledgment that the group in question likely objects to being called a "hate group." Not only is there no standard definition of "hate group," groups that have been labeled "hate groups" have turned around and called the labeling group a "hate group." Humorously (and sadly), however, it is interesting to note that even the KKK objects to being called a hate group.
I like the Southern Poverty Law Center's definition of "hate group" because it makes an important distinction. Specifically, hate groups "have beliefs or practices that attack or malign an entire class of people. And, "anti-gay groups are organizations that go beyond mere disagreement with homosexuality by subjecting gays and lesbians to campaigns of personal vilification." This qualifier is important and likely one that anti-gay groups labeled as hate groups overlook. Anti-gay groups that "merely" disagree with and object to homosexuality are not necessarily hate groups. Let's keep that in mind for the duration of this article.
1. Most Americans Support Benefits
A particularly virulent anti-gay group that deigns to protect "family values" is Americans for Truth [sic] About Homosexuality.
Rather than merely disagreeing with homosexuality, it misrepresents gay men, lesbians, our families, and our goals. For instance, a recent article coming from this group is this inaccurate statement ironically made in defense of a college baseball player accused of committing a hate crime against a gay man: "few on the Left hate like the homosexual activists (with radical pro-abortion-on-demand feminists a close second)." This statement is part of AFT[sic]AH's ongoing series documenting "homosexual hate" a series that paints some gay people as hateful and encourages the generalization that all gay people are, therefore, hateful.
In my view, and this is a trait AFT[sic]AH shares with several "family values" groups, there really seems to be no other purpose to AFT[sic]AH than trying to ensure that gay people win no battle, however large or small, in the struggle for equal rights. In doing so, this group doesn't merely disagree with homosexuality, it vilifies gay men and lesbians. AFT[sic]AH founder Peter LaBarbera, for instance, has written that "organized homosexuality is a force for evil in our society" and that he "believes that homosexual practice is always wrong but that people can leave the homosexual lifestyle." Unfortunately, LaBarbera also hyperbolically characterizes criticism of his articles and thinking as "fanatical attacks" and has vilified those who disagree with him, such as Pam Spaulding, as a "radical lesbian" and a "vicious anti-Christian lesbian activist."
I would be surprised, in fact, if he did not attempt to discredit me in the same manner.
Too bad for Peter's life mission, AFT[sic]AH doesn't speak to, for, or on behalf of most Americans. Despite the fact that most Americans favor granting some sort of legal recognition to same-sex couples, AFT[sic]AH has opposed legislation that would grant same-sex couples the dignity of even entering into civil unions. In the obsessively anti-gay mindset, civil unions are too close to marriage, and we simply cannot have that. It's all a slippery slope, you know. If one-half of a gay couple can be on his/her partner's health insurance plan, marriage will be "deconstructed." And we all know where that leads. (Or do we?)
At the same time, these man-on-dog-end-of-the-world scare tactics don't work on most people anymore. Perhaps Americans find it difficult to trust the accuracy and objectivity of the articles written by a man who, for one recent example, figuratively embraced Sally Kern and called it a "privilege" to share an anti-gay platform with her. Most Americans are willing to concede that gay couples deserve at least some of the protections, benefits, and rights of marriage even if they aren't ready to call same-sex unions "marriage."
For instance, 77% of registered voters in California surveyed support either civil unions or marriage. A much smaller 19% believe that same-sex couples deserve no legal recognition. Nationwide, other polls indicate that 54-56% of Americans believe that same-sex couples deserve at least civil unions.
While substantial numbers of Americans still unfortunately want to deny same-sex couples at least some legal recognition, the trend leans toward greater tolerance over time. Polls from 8 years ago, for instance, indicate that only 41-43% of Americans supported civil unions. What this trend means is that hate groups, perhaps because of their amusing exaggerated predictions of future harm and their unwillingness to concede anything to the other side, are becoming more out of touch with most Americans. As anti-gay hate groups grow more desperate, their rhetoric gets more exaggerated, dishonest, and mean-spirited. Americans know that that sort of speech isn't indicative of "family values," even though groups are free to utter it. Further, this hyperbolic desperation fails to speak to the real problems that American families are facing.
2. Most Americans Realize that Other Issues are More Important
There are several explanations as to why heterosexual Americans are becoming more tolerant of homosexuality than in the past. For some straight people, coming to know real life gay people has made them realize that they had, thanks to anti-gay propaganda, been seriously misinformed. For others, they became disgusted by the ferocious anti-gay backlash and apparent obsessive zeal with which their fellow Americans sought to deny equal rights to others.
Another likely explanation is that people are tiring of the issue. In light of the very real problems and myriad other social issues our nation is facing, it is difficult for many Americans to justify a continued obsession with countering the "gay agenda." While anti-gay groups treat opposing the gay agenda as though it is the most important issue we are facing, the vast majority of Americans do not believe that it is.
First off, the efforts to "defend" marriage in California will cost upwards of $30 million, according to recent estimates. Many families, something that "family values" groups are supposed to be protecting, could benefit from that money. But are they? Defending marriage, of course, means changing state constitutions to prohibit two people of the same-sex from marrying. Okay. But once marriage has been "saved," then what? Surely, marriage would have to perpetually be defended against a gay invasion. At what point would groups that pride themselves on their family values begin to address the myriad of other problems affecting American families with a fraction of as much zeal as they devote to opposing homosexuality?
Why we should be concerned with "family values" groups that obsessively focus on homosexuality is that they are largely responsible, via their endless Action Alerts and anti-gay ballot initiatives, for distracting voters from real issues.
See, Americans are beginning to realize that even if they pass anti-gay amendments, the problems that actually affect them, their families, and society are still inconveniently lingering. These other "family" issues are sort of an 800-pound gorilla, ignored by "family values" groups, that stubbornly refuses to go away just because we have "defended marriage."
What are these other issues that affect families in real ways? While Peter LaBarbera believes that opposing homosexuality is a "titanic struggle for the soul of our nation," back on Earth 70% of Americans in a recent open-ended poll listed either the economy, jobs, war, health care, terrorism, or ethics in government as their single most important issue in choosing the next president. Other polls indicate that much larger percentages of Americans are more concerned with non-gay-related issues than they are with opposing everything gay.
In 2004, voters passed 11 of 11 constitutional amendments banning gay marriage, with a total of 26 bans in effect. Now that that's all settled in Alaska, Hawaii, Louisiana, Nebraska, Nevada, Missouri, Arkansas, Georgia, Kentucky, Michigan, Mississippi, Montana, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Utah, Idaho, Colorado, Tennessee, Texas, South Carolina, South Dakota, Wisconsin, Virginia and Kansas, I wonder how the families in these states are faring. Are their lives better? Are they "safer" now? How are all of those children about whom we are so concerned?
By many indicators, families in these (mostly) red states are faring worse than they were since our president, and the anti-gay "family values" chorus, opportunistically declared war on non-nucular families. Record numbers of American families are on food stamps, 47 million Americans lack health insurance, unemployment continues to hover at around 5% (compared to 4% 8 years ago), and the percentage of Americans losing their homes in foreclosures are much higher than they were last year. Disturbingly, I see little or no concern from "family values" groups about these indicators. The one constant is these groups' obsessive opposition to same-sex marriage. Don't have a job? Lost your house? It's clear that we should ban gay marriage!
Give me a break.
If our nation is indeed being ruined, it's not gay people who are doing the destroying. It's anti-gay hate groups and "family values" are because they insist on making an issue out of what is a non-issue. By obsessively blaming the gays and proposing simple-minded solutions to complex problems these groups are woefully out of touch with the realities most families are facing. But worse than that, they lack the ability to conceive of real solutions to real problems. In due time, I predict that these groups will be as irrelevant as Fred whatshisname's anti-gay hate church.
It's time that we, as Americans, stop falling for the lie that two legitimate sides to this alleged culture war exist. When it comes to tolerance versus hate, hate is not a viable alternative. And to say that opposing gay rights is the most important battle of our time is a sadly privileged and out-of-touch statement in a world brimming with very real human suffering.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Coming Out Fridays! From the Baby Jesus to Baby Dykes
The following guest blog is part of Fannie's Room's "Coming Out Stories" series. In the following post, regular reader and sometimes commenter, "Hammerpants" recounts her coming out process. Knowing "Hammerpants" in real life (one could say that she's my "committed friend"), I thought that many would find her perspective and self-realization interesting. See, she was raised in an Evangelical Christian environment, which means that she used to be all about the baby Jesus and stuff. She is no longer part of this religious movement, proving quite nicely that one can become an ex-Evangelical ;-)
On a serious note, I find it brave and admirable that during college, she sought out information that conflicted with the religious views she was very devoted to her whole life. By realizing and accepting that she was gay, "Hammerpants" simultaneously left a safe comfort zone where everything was already figured out for her and entered a scary morally ambiguous world. While many Evangelicals find it easier to live in a world where right and wrong are black and white, she actively searched for shades of gray.
Anyway, enough of me talking. Here is her story in her own words (It's sorta long, but worth it):
"First I want to thank Fannie for this opportunity to share my personal Coming Out story. At first I was hesitant to write this because writing to an audience about anything is an act of vulnerability, let alone the act of writing about something so personal. But if at least one person can relate to or find comfort in or know a little but more about gay and lesbian people because others and myself tell our stories, then it is worth it.
Its been 5 and a half years since my personal Coming Out and, since then, I've realized that coming out isn't just a difficult talk with your parents or a rough Ani-infused semester in college when your heart is shattered by your new worldly feminist best friend turned crush who you've recently realized has a secret lover who is also your roommate. Yes, it very likely involves those things, but really only at first. For most openly gay people, Coming Out happens daily. Fortunately, it usually gets easier than those first few runs of clumsy and emotional self-disclosure to close friends and family. But the choice to be honest about ourselves and our lives is one that we confront every day with neighbors, co-workers, real estate agents, doctors, lawyers, grocery baggers, new friends and new family.
So, I will tell the story of my first Coming Out—the time I chose to be honest with myself.
For me, there was one distinct moment in my mind when I said with surprising ease, "Ah, yes, that is who I am." The seconds that followed gave way to the most peaceful clarity of thought that I had ever known. It didn't last log, but it was an instant of peace. For a brief second, the world made sense. It was as if the first 19 years of my life I was trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle but the pieces didn't quite fit so nicely. And in a moment, they snapped into place. I could be happy. I could envision a family, a partner, a life. In this moment, I was more human and the more alive that I had ever been. The months leading to that moment were angsty, desperate, and, more than anything, scary. But the exchange of that dark journey for my first sense of true honesty was worth the surrender.
I was an independent child who, like most children, had very strong feelings about who I was and how I wanted to present myself. Whenever I could, I would sneak into my older brother's closet and steal his clothes to wear to school. I loved wearing boys clothes and I think it wasn't until the third or fourth grade that I realized I actually wasn't one of the boys in school. I mean I always knew I was a girl, but that was a mere technicality. I sat at the boys table for lunch, I played with the boys at recess, I identified with male hero figures in history and on TV. I felt limitless when it came to gender. I never felt like I was viewed differently for being a girl because I never really felt like other girls. Later, as I entered fourth, fifth, sixth grade, I had much difficulty. I felt expressly different from other kids. I did not know why. But I do remember crying at night, telling my mom with all the self-assurance I could muster, "I am different." I learned quickly that its okay--actually cute-- to be a tomboy until a certain age. After that age, people don't view it with the same endearment. So I caught on and started dressing more girly. I wore makeup and made a close group of girl friends in junior high. Finally, I felt like I belonged.
All along I was raised in an Evangelical Christian household. We were not subscribers to Focus on the Family, but I did grow up believing in an absolute Truth and a message of salvation, embodied by the Word of God. I did believe that it was by the grace of God that I was blessed to know this Truth and that sharing this message was part of my purpose in life. I did believe that people are inherently sinful and, alone, incapable of good. For I could only do good in this world by seeking out God's will and letting it be my compass. I felt like I was a child of God just as all of my fellow Christians were. It was with this firm grounding that I set off for college, trading the comforts of California for the foreign terrain of Chicago.
Things changed quickly.
Once dutifully arriving my freshman year, my earnest intent was to find a nice local church where I could meet and have fellowship with other Christians. Any good Christian knows that having well-grounded Christian friends is fundamental to a good walk with Christ. As the Sundays passed though, I found myself surprisingly not wanting to go to church and I began to objectively wonder why. Objective is the key word here. I tried to examine my feelings without judgement or guilt, but to just say, "Why am I feeling this way?" Looking back on it now, the best answer to that question is that I was beginning to realize that my life is my own and if I want to go to church, I am doing it for myself. Prior to my new-found freedom, I never had expressly felt like my faith was chosen by anyone else. At this cross-roads, I recognized more ownership over who I was and who I'd choose to become than I ever had before. That realization of ownership opened up the next chapter: reevaluation of everything I'd assumed I already knew.
Like all newcomers to college, I met a lot of people. Most importantly, I met a lot of people who were different from me. They came from different countries, different points of view, different upbringings. A few of the people who I got to know very well were types of people who, had I been in California and had it been six months prior, I never would have taken the time to know for the simple reason that they were the opposite of who I wanted to be. From what I could tell, they were not Christian, they were a bit rebellious, and they were, well, gay. With a good deal of hesitance, I let myself engage in conversation, just a little. A tiny part of me was curious and a large part of me was scared, mostly because I began to see myself in them. After a few months, a few of my gay acquaintances became very good friends. I learned that they were very good, honest, passionate people. Their kindness came at face value. No expectations, no judgement. They were just good, decent people who sought to understand and to be understood. And the paradox of it all was that they were supposedly the enemy, or at the very least the sinners who who most in need of redemption. They did not know God. And yet they seemed more Christian than most of the Christians with whom I grew up. It was so strange. Everything felt turned on its head.
I was confronted with serious questions with serious implications: Did I think that they were sinful for being gay? Did I think it was wrong? Well I thought it was wrong. Was I wrong? But who was I to say what was wrong when the people who were supposed to be wrong were really the kind loving ones and the people who were supposedly the right ones always made me feel like I was so wrong? I did not know. So I did the only thing I knew to do to find out what was actually right and true. I read the Bible. I went through every last book and I took note of all of my favorite Bible verses, many of which I had memorized in Bible school. I wrote many of the passages in my journal and most of all I scoured the pages for any hint of what God actually said about gay people. I already knew what other people said. I wanted to draw my own conclusions. I read it all. All of the quoted verses about men lying with men and blah blah blah. And after that I still knew nothing. Except that in my heart I knew that these were good human beings. And for the first time, I knew a few non-Christians for whom I did not pray in hopes that they would become Christians. I did not want them to change. I began to see for myself that the compass for knowing right and wrong and good and bad comes, at least partly, from within.
For the first time, I let myself be the judge. I did like it... until I realized what I was actually thinking: gay is a-okay. More than that, what I choose to believe about this world and this life is up to me. Panic set in. If it was okay for other people to be gay, then its okay for me to be gay. Am I gay? Just because its okay for me to be gay doesn't mean I am gay. Why do I think I might be gay? Suddenly a flood of pubescent memories stole me away. There was that time when I spent the night at Jessica Bergman's house in the 8th grade and all I could think about was kissing her. Then there was that obsession with the Ellen show (not her talk show but the old sitcom) and especially that one episode that my parents and I watched together when she came out. There was that deep yet distant feeling in my gut that night that one day I would do the same. And then there was that secret hope that Megan and Carrie from my high school basketball team were secretly having a lesbian love affair. They did have matching tattoos. More than anything there was a deep uncomfortable longing every time I thought of the possibility.
Following rigorous existential analysis of my feelings, my psyche, and my beliefs with the aid of some good books for about 4 months, it was in one of those uncomfortable longing moments when I just stopped. It was too much and I wasn't getting anywhere. I just tried to picture myself 20 years from that very place in time. Who would I be? What did I want? How did I see myself? With a flinch and a deep breath, I let myself picture another woman walking beside me, holding my hand. That was THE moment. The moment of instant relief. I said, "That's what I want." After that, nothing else mattered. There was no book to read to figure out what to do. I knew--very very deeply--what was true.
Up until that point I had felt like a spectator in life, never feeling like any of the world's offerings were for me. And now I felt alive. That time was very scary. What was scary was not so much the prospect of my being gay, but rather coming to find that I have power to choose what I believe and how I will live. The idea that what I knew most deeply in my heart to be true conficted with my one source and resource for Truth and direction was devestating. Everything that I had known in life added up to this not adding up at all. That is when I chose my new Truth over my old one: that if God did exist, He made me who I am. And I now I know who I am.
About two weeks after my personal coming out, I chose to come out to my new best lesbian friend (aka, my very first crush). She had become a good friend. She was kind and gentle and listened for 2 hours straight as I just talked and talked, sitting on her bed, petting her roommate's orange cat. At the end of the night, she let me down easy. She knew I liked her and I knew nothing would happen between us but what she gave me I have treasured since that night. It was a calm, ready ear and a deep understanding.
Later that year I came out to my parents. That time was very very difficult. The day after I told my mother, she looked right into my eyes and with fresh tears on her cheeks and from her gut and with a raspy voice she said, "I knew. I knew all along." Later that night, my dad told me that my mom had worried about my being gay since I was 5 years old. She would mention it to him often throughout my childhood. She really did know. Despite their inklings, both my parents stuggled with the news. I think they still struggle. But they have come to see that I am no different from and am actually more so the little girl who refused to wear a dress and arm wrestled the boys.
There may be people who read this story and say, "See its a choice. She chose to be a lesbian." To you I say, "I chose honesty over deceit." I chose happiness over emptiness. There may be some people who say, "It was those gay friends of hers who convinced her to be gay." To you I say "it was my gay friends who did not feel the need to convince me of anything." There may be some who say, "She gave into the temptation and doubt and was not steadfast in her faith." To you I say, "that's damn right."
My first coming out was very internal. It began as a deep struggle between my heart's belief and my heart's longing. In the end they became the same thing. I do very seriously belive that there is much room for God, gods, goddesses, no god or a lingering question of the existence of a god-like being in the lives of gay and lesbian people. Likewise, there should be room for gay and lesbians and bisexuals, and queer people, transgendered people, and questioning people as well as people who know and love and embrace people who are different from them in the church or place of worship of any god(s) or God or whatever. This was my personal journey through what had appeared to be and what I had previously believed to be two foes. Since, I have taken to not really knowing what I believe in terms of god or God, but I do acknowledge that its just downright silly to ever feel like I have knowledge or belief or faith that is superior to or more true than anyone else's. It's still a work in progress.
'Faith is not being sure. It is not being sure, but betting with your last cent... Faith is not a series of gilt-edged propositions that you sit down to figure out, and if you follow all the logic and accept all the conclusions, then you have it. It is crumpling and throwing away everything, proposition by proposition, until nothing is left, and then writing a new proposition, your very own, to throw in the teeth of despair... Faith is not making religious-sounding noises in the daytime. It is asking your inmost self questions at night and then getting up and going to work... Faith is thinking thoughts and singing songs and making poems in the lap of death.'"
- Mary Jean Irion, 1970
from "Yes, World: A Mosaic of Meditation"
available from www.alibris.com
Thanks "Hammerpants," for sharing.
On a serious note, I find it brave and admirable that during college, she sought out information that conflicted with the religious views she was very devoted to her whole life. By realizing and accepting that she was gay, "Hammerpants" simultaneously left a safe comfort zone where everything was already figured out for her and entered a scary morally ambiguous world. While many Evangelicals find it easier to live in a world where right and wrong are black and white, she actively searched for shades of gray.
Anyway, enough of me talking. Here is her story in her own words (It's sorta long, but worth it):
"First I want to thank Fannie for this opportunity to share my personal Coming Out story. At first I was hesitant to write this because writing to an audience about anything is an act of vulnerability, let alone the act of writing about something so personal. But if at least one person can relate to or find comfort in or know a little but more about gay and lesbian people because others and myself tell our stories, then it is worth it.
Its been 5 and a half years since my personal Coming Out and, since then, I've realized that coming out isn't just a difficult talk with your parents or a rough Ani-infused semester in college when your heart is shattered by your new worldly feminist best friend turned crush who you've recently realized has a secret lover who is also your roommate. Yes, it very likely involves those things, but really only at first. For most openly gay people, Coming Out happens daily. Fortunately, it usually gets easier than those first few runs of clumsy and emotional self-disclosure to close friends and family. But the choice to be honest about ourselves and our lives is one that we confront every day with neighbors, co-workers, real estate agents, doctors, lawyers, grocery baggers, new friends and new family.
So, I will tell the story of my first Coming Out—the time I chose to be honest with myself.
For me, there was one distinct moment in my mind when I said with surprising ease, "Ah, yes, that is who I am." The seconds that followed gave way to the most peaceful clarity of thought that I had ever known. It didn't last log, but it was an instant of peace. For a brief second, the world made sense. It was as if the first 19 years of my life I was trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle but the pieces didn't quite fit so nicely. And in a moment, they snapped into place. I could be happy. I could envision a family, a partner, a life. In this moment, I was more human and the more alive that I had ever been. The months leading to that moment were angsty, desperate, and, more than anything, scary. But the exchange of that dark journey for my first sense of true honesty was worth the surrender.
I was an independent child who, like most children, had very strong feelings about who I was and how I wanted to present myself. Whenever I could, I would sneak into my older brother's closet and steal his clothes to wear to school. I loved wearing boys clothes and I think it wasn't until the third or fourth grade that I realized I actually wasn't one of the boys in school. I mean I always knew I was a girl, but that was a mere technicality. I sat at the boys table for lunch, I played with the boys at recess, I identified with male hero figures in history and on TV. I felt limitless when it came to gender. I never felt like I was viewed differently for being a girl because I never really felt like other girls. Later, as I entered fourth, fifth, sixth grade, I had much difficulty. I felt expressly different from other kids. I did not know why. But I do remember crying at night, telling my mom with all the self-assurance I could muster, "I am different." I learned quickly that its okay--actually cute-- to be a tomboy until a certain age. After that age, people don't view it with the same endearment. So I caught on and started dressing more girly. I wore makeup and made a close group of girl friends in junior high. Finally, I felt like I belonged.
All along I was raised in an Evangelical Christian household. We were not subscribers to Focus on the Family, but I did grow up believing in an absolute Truth and a message of salvation, embodied by the Word of God. I did believe that it was by the grace of God that I was blessed to know this Truth and that sharing this message was part of my purpose in life. I did believe that people are inherently sinful and, alone, incapable of good. For I could only do good in this world by seeking out God's will and letting it be my compass. I felt like I was a child of God just as all of my fellow Christians were. It was with this firm grounding that I set off for college, trading the comforts of California for the foreign terrain of Chicago.
Things changed quickly.
Once dutifully arriving my freshman year, my earnest intent was to find a nice local church where I could meet and have fellowship with other Christians. Any good Christian knows that having well-grounded Christian friends is fundamental to a good walk with Christ. As the Sundays passed though, I found myself surprisingly not wanting to go to church and I began to objectively wonder why. Objective is the key word here. I tried to examine my feelings without judgement or guilt, but to just say, "Why am I feeling this way?" Looking back on it now, the best answer to that question is that I was beginning to realize that my life is my own and if I want to go to church, I am doing it for myself. Prior to my new-found freedom, I never had expressly felt like my faith was chosen by anyone else. At this cross-roads, I recognized more ownership over who I was and who I'd choose to become than I ever had before. That realization of ownership opened up the next chapter: reevaluation of everything I'd assumed I already knew.
Like all newcomers to college, I met a lot of people. Most importantly, I met a lot of people who were different from me. They came from different countries, different points of view, different upbringings. A few of the people who I got to know very well were types of people who, had I been in California and had it been six months prior, I never would have taken the time to know for the simple reason that they were the opposite of who I wanted to be. From what I could tell, they were not Christian, they were a bit rebellious, and they were, well, gay. With a good deal of hesitance, I let myself engage in conversation, just a little. A tiny part of me was curious and a large part of me was scared, mostly because I began to see myself in them. After a few months, a few of my gay acquaintances became very good friends. I learned that they were very good, honest, passionate people. Their kindness came at face value. No expectations, no judgement. They were just good, decent people who sought to understand and to be understood. And the paradox of it all was that they were supposedly the enemy, or at the very least the sinners who who most in need of redemption. They did not know God. And yet they seemed more Christian than most of the Christians with whom I grew up. It was so strange. Everything felt turned on its head.
I was confronted with serious questions with serious implications: Did I think that they were sinful for being gay? Did I think it was wrong? Well I thought it was wrong. Was I wrong? But who was I to say what was wrong when the people who were supposed to be wrong were really the kind loving ones and the people who were supposedly the right ones always made me feel like I was so wrong? I did not know. So I did the only thing I knew to do to find out what was actually right and true. I read the Bible. I went through every last book and I took note of all of my favorite Bible verses, many of which I had memorized in Bible school. I wrote many of the passages in my journal and most of all I scoured the pages for any hint of what God actually said about gay people. I already knew what other people said. I wanted to draw my own conclusions. I read it all. All of the quoted verses about men lying with men and blah blah blah. And after that I still knew nothing. Except that in my heart I knew that these were good human beings. And for the first time, I knew a few non-Christians for whom I did not pray in hopes that they would become Christians. I did not want them to change. I began to see for myself that the compass for knowing right and wrong and good and bad comes, at least partly, from within.
For the first time, I let myself be the judge. I did like it... until I realized what I was actually thinking: gay is a-okay. More than that, what I choose to believe about this world and this life is up to me. Panic set in. If it was okay for other people to be gay, then its okay for me to be gay. Am I gay? Just because its okay for me to be gay doesn't mean I am gay. Why do I think I might be gay? Suddenly a flood of pubescent memories stole me away. There was that time when I spent the night at Jessica Bergman's house in the 8th grade and all I could think about was kissing her. Then there was that obsession with the Ellen show (not her talk show but the old sitcom) and especially that one episode that my parents and I watched together when she came out. There was that deep yet distant feeling in my gut that night that one day I would do the same. And then there was that secret hope that Megan and Carrie from my high school basketball team were secretly having a lesbian love affair. They did have matching tattoos. More than anything there was a deep uncomfortable longing every time I thought of the possibility.
Following rigorous existential analysis of my feelings, my psyche, and my beliefs with the aid of some good books for about 4 months, it was in one of those uncomfortable longing moments when I just stopped. It was too much and I wasn't getting anywhere. I just tried to picture myself 20 years from that very place in time. Who would I be? What did I want? How did I see myself? With a flinch and a deep breath, I let myself picture another woman walking beside me, holding my hand. That was THE moment. The moment of instant relief. I said, "That's what I want." After that, nothing else mattered. There was no book to read to figure out what to do. I knew--very very deeply--what was true.
Up until that point I had felt like a spectator in life, never feeling like any of the world's offerings were for me. And now I felt alive. That time was very scary. What was scary was not so much the prospect of my being gay, but rather coming to find that I have power to choose what I believe and how I will live. The idea that what I knew most deeply in my heart to be true conficted with my one source and resource for Truth and direction was devestating. Everything that I had known in life added up to this not adding up at all. That is when I chose my new Truth over my old one: that if God did exist, He made me who I am. And I now I know who I am.
About two weeks after my personal coming out, I chose to come out to my new best lesbian friend (aka, my very first crush). She had become a good friend. She was kind and gentle and listened for 2 hours straight as I just talked and talked, sitting on her bed, petting her roommate's orange cat. At the end of the night, she let me down easy. She knew I liked her and I knew nothing would happen between us but what she gave me I have treasured since that night. It was a calm, ready ear and a deep understanding.
Later that year I came out to my parents. That time was very very difficult. The day after I told my mother, she looked right into my eyes and with fresh tears on her cheeks and from her gut and with a raspy voice she said, "I knew. I knew all along." Later that night, my dad told me that my mom had worried about my being gay since I was 5 years old. She would mention it to him often throughout my childhood. She really did know. Despite their inklings, both my parents stuggled with the news. I think they still struggle. But they have come to see that I am no different from and am actually more so the little girl who refused to wear a dress and arm wrestled the boys.
There may be people who read this story and say, "See its a choice. She chose to be a lesbian." To you I say, "I chose honesty over deceit." I chose happiness over emptiness. There may be some people who say, "It was those gay friends of hers who convinced her to be gay." To you I say "it was my gay friends who did not feel the need to convince me of anything." There may be some who say, "She gave into the temptation and doubt and was not steadfast in her faith." To you I say, "that's damn right."
My first coming out was very internal. It began as a deep struggle between my heart's belief and my heart's longing. In the end they became the same thing. I do very seriously belive that there is much room for God, gods, goddesses, no god or a lingering question of the existence of a god-like being in the lives of gay and lesbian people. Likewise, there should be room for gay and lesbians and bisexuals, and queer people, transgendered people, and questioning people as well as people who know and love and embrace people who are different from them in the church or place of worship of any god(s) or God or whatever. This was my personal journey through what had appeared to be and what I had previously believed to be two foes. Since, I have taken to not really knowing what I believe in terms of god or God, but I do acknowledge that its just downright silly to ever feel like I have knowledge or belief or faith that is superior to or more true than anyone else's. It's still a work in progress.
'Faith is not being sure. It is not being sure, but betting with your last cent... Faith is not a series of gilt-edged propositions that you sit down to figure out, and if you follow all the logic and accept all the conclusions, then you have it. It is crumpling and throwing away everything, proposition by proposition, until nothing is left, and then writing a new proposition, your very own, to throw in the teeth of despair... Faith is not making religious-sounding noises in the daytime. It is asking your inmost self questions at night and then getting up and going to work... Faith is thinking thoughts and singing songs and making poems in the lap of death.'"
- Mary Jean Irion, 1970
from "Yes, World: A Mosaic of Meditation"
available from www.alibris.com
Thanks "Hammerpants," for sharing.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Repeal and Replace: A Guest Blog About Gays in the Military
Many of the women I know who are or were in the military are gay. In fact, I sort of wonder how the military thinks it would have substantial numbers of women serving if lesbians truly did not serve their country. Anyway, I even know some gay men and transgender persons who have served. I thought about serving, myself, many times. But in the end, I could not justify risking my life for a country that (a) denies me equal rights and (b) said I was not even legally allowed to risk my life for my country because of who I love.
In fact, I often wonder what motivates LGBT people to serve in the military at all. Answering that isn't hard, however. Like many Americans who join, gay people are attracted to the educational benefits, the opportunity to travel, and the possibility to make something of one's life having grown up with limited options.
What follows is a guest blog by a woman pretty active in the movement to repeal "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" who wishes to remain anonymous. She served the military and was discharged after being outed as a lesbian. Her story and reasons for advocating against the ban are compelling. Even though she was discharged, she has fond memories of her service. And, she sees the push for repealing the ban as an important step in paving the way for gay people to gain further rights.
This is her story:
"Fannie was nice enough to ask me to write a guest blog about the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” law. (Note: Law not policy, 10 U.S.C. 654) After being outed and losing my retirement, the question most gay people ask me is why I wanted to serve with such an unfair law in place. People pick the military for many reasons. I chose the military because my parents couldn’t afford college and I had always wanted to travel. The military was a perfect fit to achieve all of these goals. My reasons for staying are very different from why I joined. I truly loved teaching young service members and contributing to a larger cause than myself.
Several of you have made reference to the military’s ban on your blogs. There is an interesting conflict that occurs when the gay community discusses military service. We are patriotic and want to be a part of our larger American community. This includes serving when we are needed and contributing to our families’ safety and security. However, gay people don’t want to be treated like second class citizen while they are serving the greater good nor do they want to see their loved ones that are willing to sacrifice for everyone hide inherent characteristics (this includes being gay). To me, both are valid, logical perspectives and I have struggled with both sides.
Throughout history there have been necessary military recruiting spikes. These spikes can be seen during every major war. The military has never expanded service to minority groups unless there was a critical personnel shortage. Three diverse groups of people, along with a historical timeline; 1) African Americans; 2) women; and 3) lesbians, gays and bisexuals. Shortly after all of these groups were acknowledged within the military, they achieved additional rights within the larger society.
There is an amazing opportunity for the gay community to kill two birds with one stone while there is a troop shortage. First, we can contribute to our larger American community by showing our continued dedication to the principles embodied in democracy by letting those who want to serve do so. Second, the gay community will move one step closer to equality in a manner that has proven effective for other disenfranchised groups. So here is a list of things you can do if you would like to see the law repealed and replaced:
1. Write your representative and ask them to support H.R. 1246.
2. Ask YOUR senator to be the leader on this issue.
3. Work with your state and local government to pass resolutions supporting repeal.
Finally, if you know a service member that needs assistance, tell them to remain silent and contact www.sldn.org. (It’s free and confidential.)"
Thank you, "Anonymous." And shoutout to all of our LGBT current, former, and future servicemembers!
In fact, I often wonder what motivates LGBT people to serve in the military at all. Answering that isn't hard, however. Like many Americans who join, gay people are attracted to the educational benefits, the opportunity to travel, and the possibility to make something of one's life having grown up with limited options.
What follows is a guest blog by a woman pretty active in the movement to repeal "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" who wishes to remain anonymous. She served the military and was discharged after being outed as a lesbian. Her story and reasons for advocating against the ban are compelling. Even though she was discharged, she has fond memories of her service. And, she sees the push for repealing the ban as an important step in paving the way for gay people to gain further rights.
This is her story:
"Fannie was nice enough to ask me to write a guest blog about the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” law. (Note: Law not policy, 10 U.S.C. 654) After being outed and losing my retirement, the question most gay people ask me is why I wanted to serve with such an unfair law in place. People pick the military for many reasons. I chose the military because my parents couldn’t afford college and I had always wanted to travel. The military was a perfect fit to achieve all of these goals. My reasons for staying are very different from why I joined. I truly loved teaching young service members and contributing to a larger cause than myself.
Several of you have made reference to the military’s ban on your blogs. There is an interesting conflict that occurs when the gay community discusses military service. We are patriotic and want to be a part of our larger American community. This includes serving when we are needed and contributing to our families’ safety and security. However, gay people don’t want to be treated like second class citizen while they are serving the greater good nor do they want to see their loved ones that are willing to sacrifice for everyone hide inherent characteristics (this includes being gay). To me, both are valid, logical perspectives and I have struggled with both sides.
Throughout history there have been necessary military recruiting spikes. These spikes can be seen during every major war. The military has never expanded service to minority groups unless there was a critical personnel shortage. Three diverse groups of people, along with a historical timeline; 1) African Americans; 2) women; and 3) lesbians, gays and bisexuals. Shortly after all of these groups were acknowledged within the military, they achieved additional rights within the larger society.
There is an amazing opportunity for the gay community to kill two birds with one stone while there is a troop shortage. First, we can contribute to our larger American community by showing our continued dedication to the principles embodied in democracy by letting those who want to serve do so. Second, the gay community will move one step closer to equality in a manner that has proven effective for other disenfranchised groups. So here is a list of things you can do if you would like to see the law repealed and replaced:
1. Write your representative and ask them to support H.R. 1246.
2. Ask YOUR senator to be the leader on this issue.
3. Work with your state and local government to pass resolutions supporting repeal.
Finally, if you know a service member that needs assistance, tell them to remain silent and contact www.sldn.org. (It’s free and confidential.)"
Thank you, "Anonymous." And shoutout to all of our LGBT current, former, and future servicemembers!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Coming Out Fridays! A Straight Man Comes Out.
After National Coming Out Day, I wrote my belated coming out story. I hope that you found it interesting. And, perhaps one day someone who is struggling with his or her sexual identity will come across my story, or the stories that others have written, and will be helped by it in some way.
Which got me to thinking, maybe Fannie's Room needs a periodic guest blogging series where others, some of you perhaps, tell your stories. In addition to possibly helping others, telling our own real stories can be an effective way for those who do not know any gay people to, hopefully, see us in a more compassionate light. Perhaps, they will come to see us, not as evil threats out to destroy marraige and steal their children, but as real people who are at times vulnerable, scared, and just as human as all of them.
Or they'll just make fun of us.
Whatever. That's fun too.
The first storyteller in this series is regular visitor John. If you've been here regularly you will recognize John as a heterosexual married man who supports marriage equality. He is also a contributor to the group blog Live, Love, and Learn. I think that it's important to recognize that, sometimes, heterosexuals (who I believe will be the key to our eventual victory for equality) have to "come out" too. Homosexuality is not yet fully accepted in our society, or in many parts of the world. And I think it is far easier to go along with the peer-pressurey crowd that ridicules, mocks, and sometimes hates gay people than it is to stand up and say "But I support marriage equality."
And, I think, it is easy for many heterosexuals to think "I don't really care about gay rights, because it doesn't really affect me." Thinking of this easy complacency, I wonder what motivates hetereosexuals to be allies in the struggle for equal rights. In John's case, there were several reasons- a major one being an embarassing display of backlash to judicial decisions affirming gay rights. But enough of me talking, here's John's story in his own words (which he also posted on Live, Love, and Learn):
"My own 'coming out' was a process that took place over many years, and it seems to involve four major steps. The first was seeing homosexuality as simply ordinary. This was easy for me, but it came about in a rather strange way.
I was raised in a very strict Roman Catholic home, which has a lot to do with why I have never viewed homosexuality as anything other than a natural variant of human sexuality.
Think about that for a moment.
I just said that I view homosexuality as a natural variant of human sexuality BECAUSE of my strict Catholic upbringing. At this point you may properly ask what it is that I am smoking. You see, when I became a young teen, I would think of sex a fair amount of the time. In fact, all I had to do was hear or read certain words and I would think of sex; words like girl, skirt, leg, outboard motor, etc. But in my Catholic home anything that could even be remotely connected to sexuality was simply never discussed. So I had to learn on my own with no input from my caregivers.
The most influential source of my education was a weekly series of magazines called, "The Story of Life". It was a 53 week series that explained in clinical but readable detail everything about human life, love, and sexuality. One issue was dedicated to "Lovers of the Same Sex", and it dealt with the issue in a frank and totally non-judgmental manner. Since this was my only real source of information, I had no reason to think that there was a judgment to be made.
It is difficult to explain why the second step should be necessary, but while I could accept homosexuality as a natural and normal variant of human sexuality, intellectually, I could not comprehend how one could feel a sexual attraction to a memeber of the same sex. I guess I still can't, really, but for some reason seeing the effects of same sex attraction helped me see just how real it is.
As a teen (or very early 20's) I, and a few friends (one of whom is a lesbian), experimented with each each other to test our responses to same and opposite sex stimulation. I doubt you'd want to hear details of such experimentation, but it was an eye-opener for me.
The third milestone was moving beyond seeing homosexuality in sexual terms and seeing it in terms of relationships.
I am ashamed to admit that until the Goodridge decision, I never gave even a moment's thought to gay relationships, especially with respect to marriage. My attitude towards Goodridge was pure indifference. It didn't affect me or my marriage in any way. My feeling was that is two people of the same sex want to marry, who the hell am I to even voice an opinion on the matter?
But then a backlash began. A petition to ban SSM by constitutional amendment was signed by enough voters to put the measure to a vote. As many as twenty states (insert real number here) passed constitutional amendments to ban SSM, and I was absolutely horrified by the rhetoric. The talk shows hosts, the religious press and even the Republican Party (that Party of cold sober realists who preach "rugged individualism" and "get the goverment of my back") became preachers of pure hate.
I had never been so disgusted by my countrymen or more ashamed of my nation.
I didn't feel like an American or a Christian anymore.
The idea that in these United States of America in 2007, that the people should vote on the civil rights of my fellow citizens has shocked me to core. And that the Party of Lincoln would lead the charge has changed me from a passive supporter to an outright activist.
And I have learned more about gay relationships; I started reading the testimonials of gay couples. I now know that gay relationships are identical to straight relationships in every pertinent way. And only then did I realize how much I take my own protections of marriage for granted.
And then there is step four.
I am a Christian. While I don't fit the mold well, as I have little use for organized religion and am somewhat agnostic in my view of Providence, I recognize that for millions, Jesus is a abundant source of comfort and provides a moral compass. It is of major importance to me to be able to show others that Jesus's message of love, tolerance and acceptance can not abide the bigotry expressed in Paul's sermons.
That final understanding of Jesus's complete and total acceptance came form my (on-line) association with the Rev. Dr. Jerry Maneker.
His blog is here:
http://www.christianlgbtrights.org/"
Thank you, John- for your story and for your support.
John brings up a good point here:
"The idea that in these United States of America in 2007, that the people should vote on the civil rights of my fellow citizens has shocked me to core."
Here, he is referring to constitutional amendments to ban same-sex marriage that were brought about as a response to the Massachussets judicial ruling that it was a denial of equal protection and due process for the State to deny same-sex couples from marriage.
In other words, the fundies didn't like the constitutional rules so they decided to make up new ones. Effectively, the judicial branch of government that was created specifically to a avoid tyranny of the majority was circumvented to allow tyranny of the majority. That's not democracy.
And that is something that all Americans should be ashamed of.
Which got me to thinking, maybe Fannie's Room needs a periodic guest blogging series where others, some of you perhaps, tell your stories. In addition to possibly helping others, telling our own real stories can be an effective way for those who do not know any gay people to, hopefully, see us in a more compassionate light. Perhaps, they will come to see us, not as evil threats out to destroy marraige and steal their children, but as real people who are at times vulnerable, scared, and just as human as all of them.
Or they'll just make fun of us.
Whatever. That's fun too.
The first storyteller in this series is regular visitor John. If you've been here regularly you will recognize John as a heterosexual married man who supports marriage equality. He is also a contributor to the group blog Live, Love, and Learn. I think that it's important to recognize that, sometimes, heterosexuals (who I believe will be the key to our eventual victory for equality) have to "come out" too. Homosexuality is not yet fully accepted in our society, or in many parts of the world. And I think it is far easier to go along with the peer-pressurey crowd that ridicules, mocks, and sometimes hates gay people than it is to stand up and say "But I support marriage equality."
And, I think, it is easy for many heterosexuals to think "I don't really care about gay rights, because it doesn't really affect me." Thinking of this easy complacency, I wonder what motivates hetereosexuals to be allies in the struggle for equal rights. In John's case, there were several reasons- a major one being an embarassing display of backlash to judicial decisions affirming gay rights. But enough of me talking, here's John's story in his own words (which he also posted on Live, Love, and Learn):
"My own 'coming out' was a process that took place over many years, and it seems to involve four major steps. The first was seeing homosexuality as simply ordinary. This was easy for me, but it came about in a rather strange way.
I was raised in a very strict Roman Catholic home, which has a lot to do with why I have never viewed homosexuality as anything other than a natural variant of human sexuality.
Think about that for a moment.
I just said that I view homosexuality as a natural variant of human sexuality BECAUSE of my strict Catholic upbringing. At this point you may properly ask what it is that I am smoking. You see, when I became a young teen, I would think of sex a fair amount of the time. In fact, all I had to do was hear or read certain words and I would think of sex; words like girl, skirt, leg, outboard motor, etc. But in my Catholic home anything that could even be remotely connected to sexuality was simply never discussed. So I had to learn on my own with no input from my caregivers.
The most influential source of my education was a weekly series of magazines called, "The Story of Life". It was a 53 week series that explained in clinical but readable detail everything about human life, love, and sexuality. One issue was dedicated to "Lovers of the Same Sex", and it dealt with the issue in a frank and totally non-judgmental manner. Since this was my only real source of information, I had no reason to think that there was a judgment to be made.
It is difficult to explain why the second step should be necessary, but while I could accept homosexuality as a natural and normal variant of human sexuality, intellectually, I could not comprehend how one could feel a sexual attraction to a memeber of the same sex. I guess I still can't, really, but for some reason seeing the effects of same sex attraction helped me see just how real it is.
As a teen (or very early 20's) I, and a few friends (one of whom is a lesbian), experimented with each each other to test our responses to same and opposite sex stimulation. I doubt you'd want to hear details of such experimentation, but it was an eye-opener for me.
The third milestone was moving beyond seeing homosexuality in sexual terms and seeing it in terms of relationships.
I am ashamed to admit that until the Goodridge decision, I never gave even a moment's thought to gay relationships, especially with respect to marriage. My attitude towards Goodridge was pure indifference. It didn't affect me or my marriage in any way. My feeling was that is two people of the same sex want to marry, who the hell am I to even voice an opinion on the matter?
But then a backlash began. A petition to ban SSM by constitutional amendment was signed by enough voters to put the measure to a vote. As many as twenty states (insert real number here) passed constitutional amendments to ban SSM, and I was absolutely horrified by the rhetoric. The talk shows hosts, the religious press and even the Republican Party (that Party of cold sober realists who preach "rugged individualism" and "get the goverment of my back") became preachers of pure hate.
I had never been so disgusted by my countrymen or more ashamed of my nation.
I didn't feel like an American or a Christian anymore.
The idea that in these United States of America in 2007, that the people should vote on the civil rights of my fellow citizens has shocked me to core. And that the Party of Lincoln would lead the charge has changed me from a passive supporter to an outright activist.
And I have learned more about gay relationships; I started reading the testimonials of gay couples. I now know that gay relationships are identical to straight relationships in every pertinent way. And only then did I realize how much I take my own protections of marriage for granted.
And then there is step four.
I am a Christian. While I don't fit the mold well, as I have little use for organized religion and am somewhat agnostic in my view of Providence, I recognize that for millions, Jesus is a abundant source of comfort and provides a moral compass. It is of major importance to me to be able to show others that Jesus's message of love, tolerance and acceptance can not abide the bigotry expressed in Paul's sermons.
That final understanding of Jesus's complete and total acceptance came form my (on-line) association with the Rev. Dr. Jerry Maneker.
His blog is here:
http://www.christianlgbtrights.org/"
Thank you, John- for your story and for your support.
John brings up a good point here:
"The idea that in these United States of America in 2007, that the people should vote on the civil rights of my fellow citizens has shocked me to core."
Here, he is referring to constitutional amendments to ban same-sex marriage that were brought about as a response to the Massachussets judicial ruling that it was a denial of equal protection and due process for the State to deny same-sex couples from marriage.
In other words, the fundies didn't like the constitutional rules so they decided to make up new ones. Effectively, the judicial branch of government that was created specifically to a avoid tyranny of the majority was circumvented to allow tyranny of the majority. That's not democracy.
And that is something that all Americans should be ashamed of.
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