Independent Gay Forum -

Adventures in a Nursing Home

info@indegayforum.org (Paul Varnell) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Paul Varnell
You remember that old advertisement for a medical alert device in which an old woman lies sprawled on the floor and says, "I've fallen and I can't get up"? Shown as a clip at video bars, it usually provokes laughter. Well, I will never laugh at that clip again: It was exactly like that. I fell and I could not get up. ...

After a couple of days in the hospital of which I remember little, a doctor came by and said that since my pelvis showed no misalignments, there was no need to operate, and they could send me off to a nursing home to heal. "Don't put any weight on your left leg," he said, as if at that point I could or wanted to.

First published in the Chicago Free Press, July 2, 2009.

After I fell, fracturing my pelvis, I spent a couple of days in the hospital, then was packed off to a nursing home for three months while the body repaired the fractures.

I had heard stories about homophobic reactions in senior living centers, so I decided to see if this applied to nursing homes too, many of whose patients are older men and women.

Things did not begin well: My first roommate was a religious nut and something of a self-righteous bully. Within 15 minutes of my arrival, he asked me rather aggressively if I were a Christian. I did not want that conversation at that point, so I hedged: "Sort of." "Well," he persisted, "do you believe the bible is God's written word?" This has to stop right here, I thought.

"No, I don't believe that. The bible has a lot of old myths and folktales and imaginary history." I said. At that point he handed me a religious pamphlet that emphasized the pains of Hell for disbelievers. When he heard me later asking a nurse for my HIV medicine, he decided that I was a reprobate sinner as well as a Hell-bound disbeliever. We both began lobbying for me to be moved to another room and within a week that was accomplished.

From then on things improved markedly. I experienced no more troubles anywhere along the line. No one, staff or patients, expressed hostility to gays. And several indicated they were quite gay accepting.

My next two roommates were extremely quiet and I had little interaction with them, but my last roommate was occasionally visited by Roger Margason, a gay man who writes gay murder mysteries under the pen name Dorien Grey. Roger and I exchanged information and although I am not a big reader of fiction, I resolved to try one of them.

One elderly woman I met in physical therapy told me of her gay son and how proud she was of his accomplishments, which did seem considerable. It also turned out he was a reader of the Free Press and he and I agreed to get coffee some time soon.

Then there was the (male) nurse who dropped by to see how things were going. "I'm sorry but the dancing girls called and canceled," he said. "Well, I think in my case I'd prefer dancing boys, anyway," I said. "Oh," he said without missing a beat, "they called and canceled too." Thereafter he was very friendly, always addressing me by name.

The various therapists, with whom I spent more time, seemed to have no trouble with my being gay. When I mentioned that I wrote for the gay newspaper, one remarked, "Oh, yeah, my picture has been in that paper a couple of times." Then by way of explanation he added, "I have some pretty flamboyant friends." Another remarked almost casually that his best friend was gay.

Yet another therapist mentioned that he had a busy weekend coming up, that he had two or three weddings to attend. I commented that as a gay man I would not go to weddings until gays could marry in the U.S. "It'll happen," he said confidently.

Toward the end of my time in the nursing home, an openly gay therapist came in to help with the work load. It turned out that his area of research and interest was gay and lesbian elders. I hope Howard Brown or the Center on Halsted snaps up this man as a consultant. He and I agreed to get together again after I was released.

Every couple of weeks, usually on Saturday, a priest and a young woman from the local Catholic church came by to offer communion to Catholics. "That's very nice of you," I said, "but no thank you; I am an atheist." Two weeks later the same couple came by again and I declined again, restating that I was an atheist. "Oh, yes, I remember you," the young woman said, not unkindly.

Then there was the Salvation Army lassie, an attractive young woman, passing out small gifts to nursing home residents. When she placed one on my bedside table I said, "I don't know if I can accept this. I'm gay and the Salvation Army is anti-gay." She said she did not know that. I told her about the gay motorcycle clubs that used to collect "Toys for Tots" just prior to Christmas each year. One year in the early 1980s they decided to donate them through the Salvation Army. But when they took the bags of toys to Salvation Army headquarters, the official in charge refused to accept them because they were from a gay organization. The gay men were crushed. "So thank you very much but I don't think I can accept this gift," I said and handed her back the small wrapped gift.

I concluded from all this that in general homophobia is rapidly declining at every age level and that much of the reaction to a gay person self-disclosure depends on the context in which s/he discloses being gay.

The Freedom to Love

info@indegayforum.org (Jennifer Vanasco) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Jennifer Vanasco
First published in the Chicago Free Press on July 1, 2009

My girlfriend Jenny and I were standing on a subway platform in Harlem. She had flown in from Chicago and had just gotten off a bus from LaGuardia — I was coming home from work in Times Square.

We waited for the train, facing each other, holding hands, talking, kissing occasionally.

A police officer approached us.

I felt a flash of anxiety. Was she going to tell us that we were disturbing other commuters? Was she going to say something that knifed our tender reunion?

“Ladies,” she said. “You better invite me to the wedding.” She pointed to her badge. “Dawn Matthews,” she said. “21st precinct.” She grinned.

This is what it’s like to be in love in 2009, in the year of Gay Marriage.

It’s very different from being in love in 1992, when — if I held the hand of my first girlfriend — it was a good bet that someone would shout “dykes” or worse as they passed us in the street.

Or in 2003, when my girlfriend and I were sometimes given dirty looks, and were once called “faggots” as we wandered the (very lesbian-friendly) streets of Andersonville in Chicago.

Then, all people could see was that we were two women and our love was wrong.

Now, people seem to only notice that we are in love, and it is right.

And we ARE in love — we are wildly, crazily, insanely in love, though it’s been more than nine months since we started dating.

Jenny and I move in together this week. We had thought that I might move to Chicago for a few months earlier in the spring, but those plans fell through. So we kept up our relationship through video chat and email and long talks on the phone at midnight and monthly visits.

And whenever we’ve visited each other, someone has publicly applauded us for being in love.

There was that police officer. There was the chic African-American woman on a train who, once we had gotten up to leave, shouted out after us, “You go, girls! You’re beautiful!” There were the gay men who applauded us when we walked into a Chicago bar because they had seen us kissing outside.

And there was the elderly white man at a Broadway theater who sat behind us with his wife and tapped me on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I don’t mean to disturb you. But I just wanted to say that you both have excellent taste in women.”

This week, Jenny and I are driving her things to New York, so that she can live with me and my dog. We hope to get married once New York gets its act together and makes it legal. But in the meantime, we joke, we’re going to lie on a blanket in Central Park and be in love.

And in 2009, that’s OK. No, gays and lesbians don’t have our full civil rights. No, we don’t have marriage recognition in most states, or our relationships recognized by the federal government. No, we can still be fired in some states for being gay. No, we are not safe from gay bashing, or bullying, or Department of Justice briefs that compare our marriages to incest.

But America is becoming an ever more welcoming place to be gay, in small towns and big cities. People are focusing less on our gender and more on the strength of our relationships; they are seeing us less as stereotypes and more as human beings.

And that’s good news for a lesbian couple who can’t hide that we’re in love.

Putting Anger to Work

info@indegayforum.org (Richard J. Rosendall) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Richard J. Rosendall
First published in Bay Windows, June 25, 2009

Gay rights pioneer Frank Kameny was in the White House on June 17 to attend the signing of the Presidential Memorandum on benefits for the same-sex partners of federal employees. While he was waiting, he made some inquiries as to whether the President knew in advance about the now-notorious Department of Justice brief in the Smelt v. United States case challenging the Defense of Marriage Act. The answer from a gay staffer was no — Obama was furious when he learned of the brief.

That does not get the President and his staff — including senior folk at DOJ — off the hook. Even conceding that the President has to defend the law on the books despite favoring its repeal, the DOJ brief goes beyond the call of duty with illogical and insulting arguments. There is a claim that DOMA is not discriminatory because a gay person can marry someone of the opposite sex, and a claim that federal neutrality on state law requires it not to recognize same-sex marriages, whereas in fact the federal practice is to recognize state choices.

Gay legal commentator Dale Carpenter writes, "Of most interest is what the DOJ has to say about the due process and equal protection claims, rejecting just about every single variation of an argument that gay-rights scholars and litigants have made over the past 30 years."

DOJ officials will reportedly meet this week with LGBT advocates to discuss the DOMA-related cases. That is fortunate, since DOJ is due in a few days to file a brief in Gill v. OPM, the lawsuit by Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders. This is a challenge to DOMA Section 3, dealing with federal discrimination, and legal experts consider it stronger than the broader Smelt case. We will know by the administration’s brief in Gill whether it has learned any lessons.

Reality-based activism requires a recognition that political friendships are never perfect, and we do not get everything we want at once. We must continue to press on multiple fronts, neither leaving the lobbying to a few people in Washington nor placing all of our hopes in litigation — especially considering the current makeup of the U.S. Supreme Court. The tide of history is with us, but we must be part of it, not wait for it to wash over us.

In my experience, politicians are more receptive when you give them credit, however small, in addition to criticism. As Washington Post columnist Jonathan Capehart noted, we cannot afford to be blinded by rage. To the question, "What has Obama done for me lately?" the answer is: in addition to the Presidential Memorandum, Obama last week called on Congress to repeal DOMA; endorsed the Domestic Partnership Benefits and Obligations Act; and ordered the U.S. Census Bureau to release data on same-sex married couples in the 2010 census.

Obama should also issue a stop-loss order blocking further forcible discharges of gay servicemembers until "Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell" is repealed, and should order the Department of Health and Human Services to speed up regulatory changes to end the HIV immigration ban. But our friends in Congress need to grow a spine. As a friend suggested, the Democratic congressional leadership’s "primary goal is preserving their majority, not figuring out the best way to get DOMA repealed."

That is where grassroots pressure comes in. The boycott of a June 25 gay DNC fundraiser in Washington should be followed by a nationwide effort to contact every U.S. senator and representative, urging repeal of DOMA.

Obama’s leadership is needed, but he is not a magician and he needs our help. Hurling not just criticism but cries of betrayal after 150 days in office is foolish. Barney Frank urges us to learn from the National Rifle Association, and despite our community’s smaller numbers, I agree. NRA relentlessly works the halls of power rather than holding rallies on the Mall to talk to itself while members of Congress are out of town.

Anger is counterproductive if it is used to justify withdrawing from politics instead of doing smarter organizing. As Harvey Fierstein said after the 2004 election (in which the supposedly pro-gay Democratic nominee endorsed anti-gay state initiatives), we need to put our anger to work — on the inside, on the outside, and throughout the country. Don’t leave the task for others.

It’s Time to Stonewall Obama

info@indegayforum.org (Jennifer Vanasco) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Jennifer Vanasco
First published in the Chicago Free Press on June 17, 2009

It is starting to seem like a tautology that if the Obama administration is asked to weigh in on a question of gay rights, then it will come down on the wrong side.

It happened again last week.

Obama’s Department of Justice crafted a brief defending the Defense of Marriage Act that used all of the arguments of the anti-gay Right. Heterosexual marriages are “traditional,” it said. Denying federal recognition to legal state marriages doesn’t hurt anyone, it said. States don’t have to recognize gay marriages performed by other states just like they don’t have to recognize a marriage between an uncle and his niece, it said.

We do not have a “friend in the White House.”

We do not have a “fierce advocate.”

What we have is an enemy.

He is, sure, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, wearing a glittering costume embroidered with “Hope,” “Change” and empty promises. He is master of doublespeak, saying that he is against DOMA yet not protesting when a Bush-holdover presses a poison dagger of a marriage brief into our chests; he says he supports the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, but has yet to issue a Stop-Loss order to keep hunted gays and lesbians in their military jobs.

Leave gay rights to the states, he says. Leave them to Congress.

Barack Obama is no longer hurting us with benign neglect. Barack Obama’s administration is now actively attacking us.

If George W. Bush had responded this way to Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and DOMA, we would be rising in the streets. We would be protesting in front of the White House.

Barack Obama is not our friend. He is not our fierce advocate. He is someone who used our vulnerability and hope to get elected.

Joe Solmonese, executive director of the Human Rights Campaign, wrote a beautiful letter to the White House expressing just this sense of betrayal. “I cannot overstate the pain that we feel as human beings and as families when we read an argument, presented in federal court, implying that our own marriages have no more constitutional standing than incestuous ones,” he wrote.

Barack Obama has forgotten, perhaps, that we are human beings with families. He perhaps has made the erroneous assumption that we will wait our turn humbly, hats in hand, until he decides to be beneficent in the waning days of a second term.

We need to show him that we will not.

The world is a different place than it was five years ago or even six months ago. Establishment Republicans — Dick Cheney! Joe Bruno in New York! — are now coming out in favor of gay marriage. A majority of Americans favor the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Gay and lesbian civil rights are no longer a fringe issue. And gays and lesbians are no longer a minority who will be placated with hate crimes legislation in lieu of full and equal rights.

There will always be urgent issues competing for a President’s attention. That’s what being President is. But those other issues shouldn’t make us back down. In fact, they should make us fight harder.

Health care? DOMA might make it impossible for our spouses to be our dependents in a federal health care program. The economy? Our families would certainly be better off if the money we paid to Social Security could go to our loved ones if we passed before they did. The war? America would have a stronger fighting force if it stopped ejecting perfectly qualified, long-serving soldiers just because they are gay.

We must stop giving Barack Obama the benefit of the doubt. It is time to show him that we will not support a second term, that we will not support the Democratic Party, if this continues. We will not give a dollar of our money. We will not give an hour of our time.

We will Stonewall him and his administration. The time for being treated as the equal Americans we are has come, and we will not be pushed aside.

It Shouldn’t Matter. Except It Does

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published at 365gay.com on June 12, 2009

So, Adam Lambert comes out in the latest issue of Rolling Stone, and you're thinking, "What's next? Rolling Stone announces 'Water is wet'"?

I get where you're coming from. But there are deeper lessons to be gleaned.

First, notice how Lambert comes out—in a music magazine, with his sexuality occupying a relatively minor portion of the article. And he does so with the candid yet indirect phrasing "I don't think it should be a surprise for anyone to hear that I'm gay." The gayness is almost taken for granted—embedded in a sentence about public reaction, rather than placed front and center.

That approach reflects a larger trend in how society—and in particular, younger generations—view gayness: as a simple matter-of-fact, not something to be belabored. The contrast with Clay Aiken's "Yes, I'm Gay" People Magazine cover is subtle but important.

And yet, second, there's an ambivalence in the article that captures the national tone on the issue. Lambert says, "It shouldn't matter. Except it does. It's really confusing."

He's right on all three counts.

"It shouldn't matter." American Idol is a singing competition, and Lambert wanted to—and should—be judged on his vocal performance. His decision to wait until after Idol to answer the gay question, he claims, stemmed from his desire that his sexuality not overshadow his singing. (It may also have stemmed from a desire for votes, and I couldn't blame him for that. It's not as if he lied about being gay or took great pains to hide it.)

"Except it does [matter]." As Lambert himself put it in the interview, "There's the old industry idea that you should just make sexuality a non-issue, just say your private life's your private life, and not talk about it. But that's bullshit, because private lives don't exist anymore for celebrities: they just don't."

The music industry doesn't just sell songs; it sells images. For better or worse, personal backstory is part of that (especially on Idol).

What's more, gay celebrities give hope to closeted gay kids, who need to know that they're not alone and who sometimes don't have gay role models in their everyday lives. That's not to say that Adam Lambert is any more representative of gay life than any other gay person. It's just to say that his representation, such as it is, will reach more people.

"It's really confusing." Yes indeed. We live in a nation where, for some people, much of the time, gayness is a non-issue, and for others, virtually constantly, it's huge. American Idol is one of those "common denominator" phenomena (say that three times fast!) where these different groups interact with each other. Often they can do so while avoiding the issue of sexuality. But not always.

And the tension here is not just between groups; it's also internal. When Lambert says, "I’m proud of my sexuality. I embrace it. It’s just another part of me," he unwittingly raises a question—one that opponents often hurl at us: "Why be 'proud' of something that's 'just another part' of you?" Why take pride in a trait that you didn't choose and is supposed to be no big deal?

Answer: because it is a big deal. It does matter. Maybe in an ideal world it wouldn't, but we are still far from that world.

Ironically, it's a big deal precisely because our opponents insist on making it a big deal. Thanks to them, Adam Lambert (like every gay person) has to negotiate the issue of revealing his sexuality in a way that straight people never do. I think he's handled it admirably.

Lambert told Rolling Stone that “I’m trying to be a singer, not a civil rights leader.” Fair enough. But it's also fair to note that civil-rights change doesn't only come from civil-rights leaders. It also comes from countless small acts of revelation by ordinary and not-so-ordinary people, including Adam Lambert.

Noel Coward’s Outdated Defiance

info@indegayforum.org (James Kirchick) — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by James Kirchick
First published in The Washington Times, June 12, 2009

Noel Coward's "Design for Living" — now in revival by the Shakespeare Theatre Company — shocked audiences when it premiered on Broadway in 1933. It's not hard to see why.

The play, about a polyandrous relationship between two men and a woman, makes no apologies for its liberationist view of sex and relationships and could hardly be more direct in its sympathetic presentation of gay attachment. "Design for Living" was considered so risque that Coward had to wait until 1939 before staging a production in London for fear of offending British censors.

Seen today, the play shocks, but for an altogether different reason: Its message is so outdated that it's bewildering why any theater would put it on except for its curatorial interest as a period artifact.

The story begins in a dilapidated Paris garret shared by Otto, a painter, and his lover Gilda, a sprightly, if aimless young interior designer who proudly expresses her view that marriage, at least for her, is "repellent." She wishes she could believe "in God, the Daily Mailand Mother India" but instead leads a life of carefree bohemianism and free love. Gilda, you see, isn't just in love with Otto. She's also in love with Leo, a wandering playwright who has just returned to Paris. This isn't a typical love triangle, however, in that Leo also is in love with Otto, and Otto is in love with them both. Together, they are waging a "private offensive against the moral code," in the words of a 1933 Time magazine cover story about Coward. The upholder of this code is Ernest Friedman, a stately and punctilious art dealer who faults Gilda for leading a "dreadfully untidy" life. (His first name isn't incidental.)

The trio's fragile harmony is upset by the unexpected and early return of Leo, who shares "an unpremeditated roll in the hay" with Gilda. Otto becomes distraught and furious when he discovers this infidelity, and the betrayers express what appears to be sincere guilt about "cheating" on him. Otto storms off, while Gilda follows Leo to London, where he soon becomes a very successful playwright and the toast of the town. (The play is loosely autobiographical; Coward had a similar, though nonsexual, relationship with the husband-and-wife acting team of Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne, and the three performed together in the play's Broadway debut).

What makes "Design for Living" even more defiant of prewar social mores of its time is that the characters do not view their domestic arrangements as anything of which to be ashamed; to the contrary, it is society's expectations that they deem immoral. "I shouldn't feel cozy married!" Gilda tells Leo when he half-seriously proposes that they elope, if only to make gliding along the London society circuit less awkward. "It would upset my moral principles." Leo, for his part, confesses that there's "no use making any of us toe the line for long" when confronted with the prospect of matrimony.

This all made for very interesting stuff in the 1930s and could accurately be said to characterize a certain gay sensibility of the era. Decades before a concept like same-sex marriage was in the consciousness of gays, it was understandable that gay artists would mock the sort of conventional social arrangements that were closed off to them (unless, of course, they sublimated their nature). Indeed, those rare gays who sought to "couple" were mocked for "playing at" traditional heterosexual life, not just by straights but by their fellow "inverts."

Much of the "Design" protagonists' dialogue can be read as inchoate yet by now dated arguments for tolerance of homosexuality; Otto defends the threesome as immoral "only when measured up against other people's standards" and speaks of seeking "our own solutions for our own peculiar moral problems." In a line that the latter-day gay rights movement could borrow without alteration from Coward's script, Otto admonishes Gilda for worrying about societal disapproval by stating that their lives are "none of their business, we aren't doing any harm to anybody else."

The three lead characters were curiosities in the 1930s, so rare was the openly bisexual or gay person, never mind the proudly polyamorous. Today, however, they just come across as self-obsessed, vain and cruel.

"Design for Living" premiered in an era when traditional ideas about sex and the role of women in society were being challenged, and the play's notoriety almost surely had something to do with the audience's vicarious envy of the characters' ability to break free of oppressive conventions. In the ensuing 70-plus years, however, America has witnessed the wages of free love, and we've decided they're not pretty. The play's controversy is obsolete; there really is no serious constituency these days arguing for the virtue of non-monogamous relationships. And as much as gays have been cultural iconoclasts, it's difficult to imagine a leading gay playwright of Coward's artistic stature today endorsing the sort of message presented in "Design for Living."

Indeed, I don't think I'm speaking out of turn in my presumption that "Design for Living" would stick in the craw of most gays today. Its unsubtle conflation of polyandry and homosexuality as "lifestyles" equally deserving of social approval is the very sort of "slippery slope" argument proffered by religious conservatives to which gay marriage proponents so strenuously object.

The play is not as antiquated as art deco, swing dancing and other artifacts of the 1930s. It even might have served as a socially relevant statement in the 1960s, during the American cultural revolution, and as late as the 1970s or early 1980s, the age of gay liberation, when activists argued that frequent (and anonymous) sex with multiple partners was more than just a civil right; it was a fundamental part of being gay. AIDS made hash of that viewpoint, as did the general ideological maturation of a community that, while still fighting for equal rights, has earned a societal tolerance that neither Coward nor any gay person of his time ever could have imagined.

I suspect that today's more enlightened understanding of homosexuality as something wholly natural to the human experience and unthreatening to society had something to do with the audience's confused response to the play's fundamental moral darkness. This reaction was most apparent during the final scene, when Gilda must decide between her two young lovers and Ernest, whom she has married and with whom she has decamped to New York. In a sputtering and pathetic spectacle, Ernest condemns the play's putative heroes and their uninhibited ways, yelling that he "could never understand this disgusting three-sided erotic hotchpotch." Red in the face, he farcically trips on a stack of recently acquired paintings as he stomps furiously out of the room.

Until this point in the production, it isn't entirely clear which side in this fundamental dispute Coward will endorse. But by the end of the play, his ambition is obvious: a rejection of monogamy as a societal ideal in favor of whatever floats one's individual boat. As Ernest storms off the stage spewing invective like machine-gun fire, Leo, Otto and Gilda lie erotically curled over one another on the couch in a fit of hysterics, and we're meant to laugh with them in this victory of independence and bohemianism over bourgeois constrictions. But the audience at the performance I attended viewed this triumph with bewildered silence, and I have no reason to believe its reaction was in any way unique.

In times like these, with commentators of all political stripes bemoaning the divorce rate and speaking of out-of-wedlock birth rates with alarm, and when gays are fighting for the right to marry and join the nation's armed forces, as opposed to pursuing lives of sexual abandon, it is the studiously old-fashioned Ernest with whom we naturally sympathize, not the egotistical and emotionally frivolous Bright Young Things, no matter how glamorous and sophisticated they may seem. Here, an inverted adaptation of Marx's observation about the repetition of history makes sense: What's intended as farce winds up as tragedy.

Another Shrug from Obama

info@indegayforum.org (Jennifer Vanasco) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Jennifer Vanasco
First published in the Chicago Free Press on June 10, 2009

Illinois's civil unions bill, after passing a state House committee, was left to languish at the end of the session.

The bill is still alive, if barely: it can be passed by the state legislature anytime in the next two years.

It doesn't really surprise me that the bill hasn't moved this year. Despite neighboring Iowa's fantastic move to full marriage equality, Illinois's state legislature had other things to worry about, thanks to the corruption scandal surrounding Rod Blagojevich. It’s also, despite it’s tentative blue status, fairly conservative — note that the bill was for civil unions in a year when marriage is the biggest player at the table.

But that should have been its advantage.

Let's pause for a moment to consider this: Illinois is President Barack Obama's home state (at least as an adult). Obama has said — emphatically — that he is for civil unions, not marriage. And that he wants equal legal rights for gay and lesbian couples.

Why didn't Obama lobby for the bill?

Why didn't he say in a speech something like: "My own great state of Illinois is working now to further the equal rights of gay couples. I hope they pass the current civil unions bill."

Why didn't he call his former friends in the legislature, where he was a state senator, after all, and encourage them to do the right thing?

If he's not for equal marriage — and he's not (he prefers gays and lesbians to have "separate but equal" status instead) — why isn't he trumpeting the recent passage of domestic partnerships in Nevada, or partnerships in Washington state?

Easy. It's the same reason he hasn't moved on the Defense of Marriage Act, and the Don't Ask, Don't Tell military ban (which the majority of Americans support) and why he didn’t issue a supportive statement on the Uniting American Families Act when it was being debated in Congress last week.

Gays and lesbians are not his priority. Which is why the only "accomplishment" his administration could claim in proclaiming the White House's support for Gay Pride month was this:

"I am proud to be the first President to appoint openly LGBT candidates to Senate—confirmed positions in the first 100 days of an Administration."

Except — ooops — the Advocate reported that this isn't true. President Clinton nominated Roberta Achtenberg as Assistant Secretary for Fair Housing and Equal Opportunity and Bruce Lehman as Assistant Secretary of Commerce and Commissioner of Patents and Trademarks, both within his first hundred days.

The White House's response?

"President Obama remains the first president to have openly LGBT candidates confirmed by the Senate during the first 100 days of an Administration."

Call me crazy, but that doesn't seem like "fierce" advocacy to me. Things got worse this week when the Supreme Court turned down the opportunity to review Don't Ask, Don’t Tell — partly because the Obama Administration argued that it was a "rational" policy.

Obama has been mostly silent on our issues since taking office. Insiders tell us that he will keep his promises. They tell us to be patient. They tell us to wait.

Maybe they're right. Maybe not. Maybe the Obama Administration really is working like crazy behind the scenes to dismantle DOMA and Don’t Ask, to support the Employment Non—Discrimination Act and the Uniting American Families Act. Maybe they're just hoping if they placate us enough, we’ll go away.

All we know for sure when it comes to this Administration is that hope is not enough. Promises of "change" are not enough. We supported Obama with our dollars and our labor, and it is time he supports us in return.

But until he does, the good people of Illinois — like good people all over the country — have to wait for their rights.

‘That’s How I Was Raised’

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published at 365gay.com on June 5, 2009

A recent New York Times Magazine article spotlighted a shocking vestige of our nation's racism: segregated proms. It focused on one school in Georgia's Montgomery County, though the practice is common across the rural South.

I say "shocking" even though I personally wasn't surprised. One of my best friends is from rural Tennessee. His alma mater still segregates superlatives: White Most Likely to Succeed, Black Most Likely to Succeed; Funniest White, Funniest Black, and so on.

The white students quoted in the Times article expressed some reservations about the practice, but generally concluded with "It's how it's always been…It's just a tradition." In the words of Harley Boone, a platinum blond girl with beauty-queen looks who co-chaired last year's white prom, "It doesn't seem like a big deal around here. It's just what we know and what our parents have done for so many years."

"It's just what we know." Miss Boone reminded me of another beauty queen, in both her appearance and her comment: Miss California USA Carrie Prejean.

Miss Prejean, you'll recall, when asked her beliefs about marriage equality, responded (in part), “I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offense to anybody out there, but that's how I was raised.”

How I was raised. Tradition. What our parents have done. This is not, in itself, a bad reason for doing something. It explains why I set the table the way I do, for instance, or why I always put an extra unlit candle on a birthday cake ("good luck for the next year," my mom always told me). It explains, too, more substantial practices—how we gather, celebrate milestones, express joy, or mourn loss. No generation does, or should, invent everything from scratch.

And yet, sometimes "what we know"—or thought we knew—stops working, or never worked very well in the first place.

I used to load the dishwasher with the forks tines down—because that's how my parents did and still do it—until I realized they get cleaner tines up (in my dishwasher, anyway, and please don't send me irate e-mails if yours is different).

Spotty forks are one thing. Racial and sexual inequalities are quite another. When traditions cause palpable harm to people, it's time to change. At that point, rethinking tradition is not merely optional, as in the dishwasher case—it's morally mandatory.

And that's why Prejean's " how I was raised" comment struck so many of us as a dumb answer. No educated person can justifiably claim ignorance of the challenges gay individuals and couples face. We gays are deprived of a fundamental social institution, treated unequally in the eyes of the law, and told that our deep, committed, loving relationships are inferior, counterfeit, or depraved. In the face of such injustice, "that's how I was raised" sounds hollow and cowardly.

There are those who bristle at any analogy between homophobia and racial injustice. Indeed, a favorite new right-wing strategy is to claim that liberals unfairly label as "bigots" anyone who opposes same-sex marriage, even on the basis of sincere moral and religious convictions.

But that's one reason why the analogy is so powerful, and so revealing. It shows that citing "sincere moral and religious convictions" doesn't get one a free pass for maintaining unjust institutions.

No analogy compares two things that are exactly the same. (That would not be an analogy, but an identity.) Analogies compare two or more things that are similar in some relevant respect(s). The similarities can be instructive.

The white citizens of Montgomery County, Georgia, seem like a nice enough bunch. They don't carry pitchforks or wear hooded robes. I doubt that Miss Boone ever uses the n-word, although her grandparents probably do. (Mine did, too, until we grandchildren protested loudly enough.) They are otherwise decent folk misled by powerful tradition.

I'm sure that, pressed for further explanation, many of these folks could make the right noises about doing what's best for their children and eventual grandchildren. And much like "that's just what we know," that response would sound familiar. Opponents of marriage equality use it constantly.

But don't marriage-equality opponents have social-science data backing them up? They don't. Yes, they have data about how children fare in fatherless households, for example, and then they extrapolate from that data to draw conclusions about lesbian households. The problem is that there are too many confounding variables. So then they fall back on their "vast untested social experiment" argument: we just don't know how this is going to turn out. Which, again, is precisely the sort of thing we might expect the Montgomery parents to say to justify their "tradition."

From the fact that two groups of people use the same forms of argument, it doesn't follow that their conclusions are equally good or bad. It depends on the truth of their premises.

Still, the tendency of both segregationists and marriage-equality opponents to hide behind "that's how I was raised" provides a powerful analogy—in moral laziness.

The Spark We Needed

info@indegayforum.org (Jennifer Vanasco) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Jennifer Vanasco
First published in the Chicago Free Press on June 3, 2009

Years from now, Proposition 8 is going to be thought of as the tragedy that sparked a revolution.

We’ve seen it before. Stonewall, 40 years ago this month. AIDS 25 years ago. It has always been the case that our greatest community successes were built on the backs of what at first seemed like disasters.

Our strength is that setbacks prod us to work together even more closely.

Before last November, most gays and lesbians who wanted equal marriage weren’t very active about it. We might talk to each other about inequality, but except for our activist wing, we weren’t taking to the streets.

Marriage across the United States seemed like a pipe dream. When New England’s Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders launched their 6 X ’12 campaign — pressing for gay marriage in all New England states by 2012 — I almost laughed. No way, I thought.

At the time, only Connecticut and Massachusetts had equal marriage. California was taking it away. And New York, while it recognized marriages performed elsewhere, looked blockaded by religious Democrats in the state senate.

But after the November vote for Proposition 8, gays, lesbians and our allies started marching in the street. We started boycotting. We started writing letters. We started telling our stories. And it became clear: there are ramifications if citizens and legislators vote against us. We are paying attention. And we will act.

Then we started to see states jump forward with equal marriage. Iowa. Maine. Vermont. Soon New Hampshire. The District of Columbia started recognizing marriages performed elsewhere — and Maryland might go the same way in a few weeks. The Nevada state legislature overturned the governor’s veto of domestic partnership rights. Pennsylvania is taking up a marriage bill.

Some insiders are even predicting that New York may vote for equal marriage before Pride.

What felt like a Sisyphean struggle a year ago now feels like a landslide. Even last week’s California state Supreme Court decision felt something like a victory. The judges, in upholding Prop 8, ruled as narrowly as they could. Minority rights can’t be taken away, they said. They can only be called something else.

Said the opinion:

"Instead, the measure carves out a narrow and limited exception to these state constitutional rights, reserving the official designation of the term marriage for the union of opposite-sex couples as a matter of state constitutional law, but leaving undisturbed all of the other extremely significant substantive aspects of a same-sex couple's state constitutional right to establish an officially recognized and protected family relationship and the guarantee of equal protection of the laws.

"Among the various constitutional protections recognized in the Marriage Cases as available to same-sex couples, it is only the designation of marriage - albeit significant - that has been removed by this initiative measure."

They didn’t overturn the 18,000 marriages. And they didn’t overturn gay rights. Gays and lesbians have all the rights of married couples, they said. Just not the word “marriage.”

And yes, that’s “separate but equal.” But — good news! — that’s SEPARATE BUT EQUAL. And in our country we have a 50-year understanding that separate but equal is not equal at all. Which means that the decision is even more likely to be overturned the next time voters head to the polls.

June is Pride month, and we have a lot to celebrate. We still have to fight. We still have to do the difficult personal and political work of reaching our to communities of faith and of color to reassure them that by supporting us, they don’t lose anything.

Forty years ago this month, we had Stonewall. Now we have Prop H8. It is exactly what our movement needed.

The Upside of 8

info@indegayforum.org (James Kirchick) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by James Kirchick
First published in Advocate.com on June 3, 2009

No sooner had the supreme court of California issued its 6-1 ruling last week upholding the constitutionality of the voter-approved Proposition 8 than gay activists called for mass protests across the country. As legal experts pored over the decision on the courthouse steps, hundreds of demonstrators directed chants of “Shame on you, Shame on you” at the court’s justices, four of whom, it should be remembered, ruled last May that the state’s constitution obligated the government to allow same-sex couples to marry. That the legal reasoning for the court’s decision to uphold Proposition 8 might have been sound — as the limiting of marriage rights to opposite-sex couples constitutes an “amendment” rather than a “revision” to the state’s constitution and is thus subject to popular approval — did not factor into these preplanned rallies.

Emotion ruled triumphant.

This is not to downplay the legitimate frustration and sorrow of last Tuesday. The anger of gays nationwide — especially those in California, who saw their rights ripped away before their very eyes — is understandable. And publicly expressing that anger, albeit peacefully and with respect for those with opposing views, serves as a useful reminder to the country’s straight majority that gay people face serious burdens due to the lack of equal protection under the law. For too many heterosexuals — especially those who do not count openly gay people among their family, friends, or coworkers — gay rights are an abstract subject, something to vote on once every four years.

But at this point, gay rights advocates in California have the opportunity to fulfill the inevitable promise of their movement: Convince the majority of their fellow citizens that their cause is just and win equality with a resounding — and democratic — victory.

To see the silver lining in last week’s court decision, it’s instructive to weigh the costs of the ruling against its (perhaps, to some, utterly inconceivable) benefits. Let’s start with the bad news: Gay Californians have lost the right to marry. That’s disappointing, but there is an even chance that Proposition 8 will be repealed by 2010, and if not then, 2012. For a variety of reasons — the increasing number of young people becoming part of the electorate, the slow acclimation of heterosexuals to gay people living normal lives — the inexorable trend of gay rights issues is progress toward the equality position.

But the best case for why equal marriage will soon become reality in the Golden State has nothing to do with changing voter demographics, sociology, or better organizing: It is the 18,000 gay couples whose marriages remain legally valid (some of these 18,000 are out-of-state, though just how many is unclear). Their loving commitments to one another, rearing of healthy children, and enriched involvement in their communities will be the best case for preserving and extending marriage equality to all of California’s gays and will put to rest fears that allowing same-sex couples to marry will somehow bring the sky crashing down.

So let’s keep things in perspective: The worst that gay Californians will suffer as a result of this ruling is the inability to marry for the next year and a half to three years, at most. Meanwhile, gays in California can still enter into domestic partnerships (as they have been able to since 2004), which afford “the same rights, protections, and benefits, and shall be subject to the same responsibilities, obligations, and duties under law” as marriage, excepting, of course, the voluminous federal benefits. The inevitable bestowal of marriage rights to same-sex couples in California will be only a change in name, at least until the federal government repeals the Defense of Marriage Act or decides to recognize state-sanctioned legal partnerships.

The obsession with winning court decisions obscures the reality of how civil rights struggles are ultimately won. “While Brown v. Board enunciated important values, real change came through the politically enacted Civil Rights Act of 1964,” writes Yale law student and gay marriage supporter Aaron Zelinsky at The Huffington Post. He also reminds us that insidious laws like the Defense of Marriage Act and the military’s ban on openly gay soldiers must be repealed legislatively, that is, by the people’s elected representatives. Convincing citizens in the country’s largest state of the justice behind marriage equality will make that job much easier.

How is forcing gay marriage advocates to the ballot box a boon rather than a chore? Winning equal marriage democratically in the country’s largest state will help the national gay rights movement. Immediately, the attack on “activist judges” will be neutralized. Since last November the gay activist community has been awash in controversy over the manifold failures and incompetence of the No on 8 campaign. Now comes the opportunity to right those wrongs and perfect the working model of a statewide pro-gay initiative campaign, the likes of which can be replicated by activists in states across the country. And however “fatigued” voters may about the issue of gay marriage, in the words of Sacramento Bee columnist Marcos Breton, that weariness is more likely to lend itself to support for what most people realize is its inevitable passage rather than continued opposition, which only ensures that the controversy is debated more and more.

Judging by the increasingly pathetic arguments of the anti-gay-marriage right, the momentum is well behind pro-equality forces. In the short time between the passage of Proposition 8 in November and the California supreme court’s decision to uphold its enactment last week, Iowa, Maine, and Vermont legalized gay marriage and the New York State assembly passed a gay marriage bill championed by Gov. David Paterson. The New Hampshire legislature passed a marriage equality bill expected to become law this week after successful haggling between the governor and representatives. On Monday the Nevada legislature overrode the gubernatorial veto of a domestic-partnership bill, making it the 17th state to recognize same-sex unions. When the injustice of the status quo is so transparent, it can seem fruitless to counsel patience in a civil rights struggle. But in this case, determined patience in the short term will produce everlasting benefits.

A Suit Too Soon?

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published at 365gay.com on May 29, 2009

President Truman's quip about wanting a one-handed economist—so that he would cease being told, "On the one hand…on the other hand…"—pretty well sums up my reaction to the news that Ted Olson and David Boies are spearheading a federal lawsuit challenging California's Prop. 8.

Olson and Boies are two of the most prominent constitutional lawyers in the country—as evidenced by the fact that they represented George W. Bush and Al Gore, respectively, before the U.S. Supreme Court in "Bush v. Gore," which decided the 2000 election. And yes, they are from opposite sides of the political spectrum.

Olson—who initiated the alliance—is a well known conservative heavyweight. In addition to representing Bush against Gore, he was the 43rd president's first solicitor general, has served on the board of the right-wing American Spectator, and defended President Reagan during the Iran-Contra scandal.

On the one hand, WTF?

On the other hand, there are increasing numbers of political conservatives who think that the standard right-wing position on gays is not just silly, but profoundly unjust. Olson appeared sincere and determined as he announced the lawsuit, together with Boies, at a press conference last Wednesday. As he put it,

I suspect there’s not a single person in this room that doesn’t have a friend or family member of close acquaintance or professional colleague and many of them who are gay. And if you look into the eyes and hearts of people who are gay and talk to them about this issue, that reinforces in the most powerful way possible the fact that these individuals deserve to be treated equally like the rest of us and not be denied the fundamental rights of our Constitution.

I couldn't have said it better (which is exactly how Boies responded to Olson's words, patting his colleague and erstwhile nemesis on the back.)

On the other hand (that's three, and there will be more), doesn't the timing seem wrong? That's what many veterans in this fight—including folks at Lambda Legal and the ACLU—are saying. Olson and Boies seem determined to press this all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. Call me a pessimist, but I can't imagine the current or any near-future SCOTUS deciding in favor of full marriage equality. (I'd of course love to be wrong about this.)

Pushing this case too soon could be both judicially and politically risky. A loss at the Supreme Court would create binding negative precedent for ALL states, not just California. Such precedent is hard to undo. Moreover, if the case is pending during the 2012 presidential election, it could be a rallying cry for right-wingers.

On the other hand, assuming this case does reach SCOTUS, much will depend on the idiosyncratic Justice Kennedy—a swing vote who stood up for gays in both Romer v. Evans (which struck down Colorado's amendment barring pro-gay ordinances) and Lawrence v. Texas (which reversed Bowers v. Hardwick and eliminated laws against sodomy). Romer, in particular, may be key backdrop for this case.

And even if we lose, forcing justices to put their arguments against equality in writing, for generations of legal theorists and law students to dissect, is bound to have a salutary effect long-term.

Moreover, the bipartisan nature of this legal team, and particularly Olson's conservative bona-fides, could be just what's needed to nudge pro-gay conservatives out of the closet in supporting marriage equality. If—and I mean IF; a big, fat, entirely hypothetical IF—anyone could convince someone like Chief Justice Roberts to reject the constitutionality of Prop 8, Olson's the guy to do it.

Olson is no fool. This is a high-profile case, and that's doubtless part of his and Boies's motivation for taking it. They will be working "partly" pro-bono. It is unclear who's paying for the other part, which surely won't be cheap.

On the other hand, unlike the push for a ballot initiative to overturn Prop. 8 in 2010 or 2012, this case won't require substantial monetary contributions from the cash-strapped grass roots. And if Olson and Boies don't take up the case, someone else less well-positioned would likely do so.

On the other hand, Prop. 8 may not be the ideal case on which to pin this battle. Olson and Boies plan to argue on equal protection and due process grounds. But California still allows gays and lesbians to enjoy virtually all the statewide legal incidents of marriage, just without the name "marriage." I'm not suggesting that the name is unimportant, or that "virtually" and "statewide" are the same as "all." I am saying that it seems easier to make an equal protection case where the legal incidents, and not just the name, are substantially unequal.

On the other hand, I'm no constitutional scholar. And there's momentum surrounding Prop. 8. And you gotta dance with them what brung you.

And it's the momentum, more than anything, that gives me hope here. A super-prominent conservative attorney makes a strong and very public stand in favor of marriage equality, recognizing it at the key civil rights issue of our day. Even if we end up losing this particular battle, it's hard not to grow more optimistic regarding the war.

Coming Our Way

info@indegayforum.org (Jennifer Vanasco) — Fri, 29 May 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Jennifer Vanasco
First published in the Chicago Free Press on May 27, 2009

We have this idea in the gay community that Christianity is against us. We think that every clergy member everywhere is combing the Bible on Saturday nights, trying to find new ways of convincing their congregations the next morning that gays and lesbians are not equal citizens, that we are condemned by God.

We imagine a Berlin Wall of churches between us and our full civil rights, poking their spires into the sky like impassable spikes.

We think that churches inspire people only to hate us.

We are wrong.

“On a range of policy issues, Mainline Protestant clergy are generally more supportive of LGBT rights than the general population,” according to a report released last week from the progressive think tank Public Religion Research.

It says that 67 percent of Mainline clergy support hate crimes legislation; 66 percent support workplace protections for gays and lesbians; 55 percent support gay and lesbian adoption rights; 45 percent support the ordination of gays and lesbians with no special requirements (like celibacy). One third support same-sex marriage and another third support civil unions, meaning that only a third doesn’t think that gays and lesbians should have full civil partnership rights.

When pastors are assured that churches will be free to perform marriages for gays and lesbians or not, according to the doctrine of their denomination and the feeling of their congregations, 46 percent support equal marriage.

Mainline denominations are those, like Episcopal, Presbyterian, Methodist and Obama’s own United Church of Christ, that identify themselves as Protestant but are not born again or evangelical.

We tend to hear a lot about evangelical pastors – Rick Warren, for example – in the media, and a lot about evangelical and born again beliefs. But evangelicals, with their conservative, literal view of the Bible, do not equal all of Christianity.

And even evangelicals are starting to move leftward on gay rights (including Rick Warren, who has started publicly softening his previous anti-gay stance). The “New Evangelicals” think that their churches should focus on poverty and improving the environment. In 1987, 73 percent of white evangelical Protestants thought that a teacher should be fired for being gay, according to a Pew Research Center poll. This year, only 40 percent thought so.

Younger evangelicals are, like the rest of the country, more likely to approve of – or just not care about – equal marriage. Last summer, a Faith in Public Life poll found that 24 percent of evangelicals 18-34 support gay marriage, up from 17 percent just three years ago. That’s a seven-point difference and that’s huge.

For a while, I was in conversation with a minister of a small evangelical congregation who was trying to find a way to keep his church’s theology while also welcoming gays and lesbians into the pews.

“Know that I’m not the only one,” he said. “There are more evangelicals where I am than most people realize.”

There are more religious leaders of all denominations who are for gays and lesbian rights than we realize as well. In New York, for example, hundreds of ministers have joined together as part of Pride in the Pulpit to advocate for equality and justice for gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders.

“Religion” is not a monolith, especially in the United States. There are religious leaders who are for gay and lesbian rights and they are voicing their support in the pulpit.

Take my friend’s pastor, a Lutheran minister who on Mother’s Day said in his sermon, “I have a very hard time finding any reason to be afraid of what is happening in Massachusetts and Iowa and elsewhere. The institution of marriage is strong; it cannot be damaged by extending it to others who want to get married. On the contrary, marriage is strengthened by doing so.”

Christianity is not out to get gays and lesbians, despite the popular perception. Not all churches are barring our way to equal rights. Indeed, some are opening the door.

Adam Lambert’s ‘Loss’

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Mon, 25 May 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published at 365gay.com on May 22, 2009

At the risk of stating the obvious, let me say that Adam Lambert is going to be just fine.

I'll say it anyway because, barely minutes after Kris Allen was announced as the "upset" winner of American Idol, my Facebook feed was loaded with status updates declaring Adam's loss a "hate crime," with people vowing to take the streets to protest (on the eve of the anniversary of the White Night riots, no less).

I trust that their histrionics were limited to message boards, and that the streets are safe from drama. There will soon enough be events worth marching about.

None of which is to diminish the importance of Lambert's nearly winning America's blockbuster musical talent competition as a more-or-less openly gay performer. Sure, it's not DOMA, or DADT, or ENDA. But if greater issues always displaced lesser ones, there would be no justification for watching American Idol in the first place—or for art of any sort.

As for those who think that a contestant's sexuality is nobody's business, I'll buy that the moment we apply the same standard to straight performers. Kris Allen's wife, explicitly identified, was a regular presence. Third-placer Danny Gokey, as we heard repeatedly, is a widower. Family backstory is standard Idol fare. But Lambert, as Entertainment Weekly's Mark Harris aptly put it, "was apparently made by the hand of God and left in a basket backstage at Wicked."

Should Lambert have beat Allen? Lambert is clearly the more talented singer and performer, though Allen is not without his charms.

Lambert is also queer—in the broad sense of that term. Put aside the internet pictures of him in drag making out with other guys. Many Idol voters were unaware of such pictures, despite their being aired, for example, by Bill O'Reilly on Fox News. (O'Reilly did so under the guise of "Will America have a problem with this?" but it's hard to believe he wasn't trying precisely to provoke such a problem.)

Many Idol voters surely also missed Lambert's skillful non-answers to media questions about his sexuality. ''I know who I am," he told Entertainment Weekly when asked the gay question. "I'm an honest guy, and I'm just going to keep singing.''

But no viewer could miss Lambert's flamboyant costumes, his outrageous high notes, or his eyeliner. Whatever his romantic interests, Adam Lambert reads queer. And that's new territory for Idol. While Clay Aiken, the last gay near-winner, projected "wholesome," Lambert screams "edgy." (It's a pitch-perfect scream, held impossibly long, which pierces the audience.)

And that's why, despite Lambert's superior vocal skills, Allen's victory was unsurprising. American Idol contestants win by getting the most votes, and the average American doesn't typically vote for queer. That's part of what makes it queer, after all.

Nonetheless, Lambert seems no less a victor, and I hope he's basking in his glory right now, eyeliner and all.

He made it to the final round while unabashedly being himself (in his appearance and performance, if not in direct response to interview questions). He has solidified his reputation as a consummate entertainer. He will no doubt go on to have a great career, far more successful than Allen's, and probably even more successful than the career he would have had were he constrained by the packaging that comes with the "Idol" title.

Meanwhile, he has taught America something, if not about gays, then at least about "queers." He has "mad skills," yes—but he was also unfailingly polite, consistently expressing gratitude for the behind-the-scenes folks who developed his arrangements. He graciously expressed admiration for his competitors, including Allen. He was edgy, but not off-putting—all of which made it easier for people to see the main thing: his tremendous talent.

Besides injecting new life into Idol, Lambert also appears to have changed its culture. Idol has always struck me as a homophobic show, not just because of the noticeable absence of openly gay performers, but also because of the juvenile gay innuendo that regularly takes place between judge Simon Cowell and host Ryan Seacrest. That innuendo seems to have dramatically decreased this season—no doubt partly due to Lambert.

It will be interesting to see, now that Lambert must shift his attention from votes to sales, whether he chooses to talk more explicitly about his sexuality. I look forward to what he has to say. But I look forward even more to what he's going to sing.

Growing Older, Gratefully

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Fri, 22 May 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published at 365gay.com on May 17, 2009

This column hits the internet around my fortieth birthday. Forgive a middle-aged columnist for indulging in some reminiscing.

Little reminders of my age keep creeping up, like the fact that I had to re-word the last sentence after initially writing "This column hits the newsstands…" My column used to appear in print (and still does, in some markets). At least I've learned to say "music store" instead of "record store," though I don't think I've purchased a record since 6th grade. (It was Billy Joel's Glass Houses.) And even saying "music store" probably dates me.

When I came out at 19, there was no internet. Usually, we met other gays by going to gay bars—when we could find them. When traveling, I'd grab the local phone book (remember those?) and hope to locate something under "Gay," "Lambda" or "Rainbow." Then I'd look for a pay phone.

If the telephone search didn't work, I had an alternate method. I'd go to the nearest mall and find a Gap, where nine times out of ten I could spot a gay salesclerk. (Yes it's a stereotype, but it was a useful one at the time.) I would chat him up so he would fill me in on the local scene—no joking. Who needs gaydar.com when you have plain old-fashioned gaydar?

Reflecting on ways the world has changed during my life, I feel a bit like my grandfather when he talks about when gas was twenty cents a gallon. (Did I mention that, after locating the gay bar, I would walk ten miles to get there, uphill, both ways?)

Like my grandfather, I do find myself occasionally referring to "these kids today."

As a college professor, I know many of these "kids" as students. When I started teaching, I wasn't much older than they. Blessed with a youthful countenance, I could easily be mistaken for their peer. (And yes, the photo accompanying this column is recent.) Now I'm old enough to be their dad—something I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around.

I am both awed and pleased by some of the ways in which their lives will differ from mine. Mainly, I'm filled with gratitude.

Most of these kids don't know what it's like to start a gay and lesbian group at schools that don't have one, and then watch as all of their flyers get either torn down or scribbled with words like "faggot." I'm grateful that such frequent ugliness has become the exception rather than the rule in America.

Most of these kids don't know what it's like to live in a world where, in most people's minds, gay=AIDS=death. I came out in 1988. AZT was just becoming available, and protease inhibitors were some time off. I watched friends and acquaintances die with alarming speed. I'm grateful that most of today's youth don't know that horror—although I wish they would take more care with their sexual choices.

These kids live in a world where, in a handful of places, they can marry whom they love. Seeing this as possible, those in the other places can hope for, and work for, change. I'm grateful for that progress.

I'm grateful that gay sex is no longer criminal in any U.S. state—though grieved that it still warrants the death penalty in parts of the world. For seven years of my adult life I lived in a state where homosexual sodomy was criminal. I cried tears of gratitude when that changed, thanks to the Supreme Court's Lawrence v. Texas decision in 2003.

I know that there's much work left to be done, and I'm grateful to be a part of that work.

I'm grateful for readers from around the world who send me words of encouragement. I'm grateful for family and friends who have supported me. And I'm grateful for my partner Mark, who has been the love of my life for the last seven-and-a-half years. He, more than anyone else, makes me look forward to the next forty.

All in all, it's a good world out there, which makes growing older something to embrace.

Lost Shepherds

info@indegayforum.org (Richard J. Rosendall) — Thu, 14 May 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Richard J. Rosendall
First published in Metro Weekly, May 14, 2009

"Every single person who voted for this, they're gone," shouted Rev. Anthony Evans, associate pastor of D.C.'s Mount Zion Baptist Church, into a news camera. We were standing in the hallway after the D.C. Council voted 12-1 to give final approval to a measure recognizing same-sex marriages from other jurisdictions. Evans and several other anti-gay ministers, led by Bishop Harry Jackson of Hope Christian Church in Maryland, were outraged, and Evans vowed to defeat all 12 legislators who supported equality.

I asked, "What track record do you have to back up your threats?" He ignored me and talked of asking Congress to overturn the Council's action. He also referred to a bill pending in Congress that would give D.C. a full voting member in the House of Representatives, and promised to get an amendment that would force the District to choose between gay rights and voting rights.

Seeking congressional intervention when you lose in the D.C. Council is what D.C. Delegate to Congress Eleanor Holmes Norton calls "getting a second bite at the apple." She rightly sees it as a betrayal of D.C. self-determination, and those who attempt it earn her wrath.

I have heard Rev. Evans' threats before. In 2003, he called me to accuse the Gay and Lesbian Activists Alliance (GLAA), on which I serve as political vice president, of blocking a federal abstinence-only HIV-education grant for D.C. that he wanted. GLAA was opposing the federal program because it treated abstinence as the only answer rather than part of comprehensive sex education that included information on using condoms and contraception to prevent sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy.

In that 2003 phone call, Rev. Evans said that he could not approve of homosexuality because he believed in the Bible, but that he considered me his brother in Christ. He suggested a breakfast meeting to work out a compromise. I said I would be happy to meet, but I didn't feel respected by someone who insisted that I abstain from sex until marriage yet opposed my right to marry.

I accused Rev. Evans of being selective in his use of biblical passages, and mentioned the pro-slavery references in Paul's Epistles. He acknowledged this but said that clergy are uniquely empowered by God with interpreting Scripture. (In fact, since Martin Luther translated the Bible into a common tongue, there is a strong Reform tradition that literate, reasoning folk are equally empowered as the clergy.) I said I did not need his permission to think for myself, and that he was free to preach as he liked but was not entitled to a subsidy from taxpayers. He threatened to set the gay movement back 10 years. On a more conciliatory note, he said that he didn't think gay people should be put to death. I said that was generous but inconsistent with his scriptural literalism.

Rev. Evans and his allies say they are defending the family. As it happens, on the Saturday after our legislative victory, I am going through a connect-the-dots book with 5-year-old Sam, the son of my friends Alan and Will. Papa Alan is in Fort Worth, Texas, and I offered to baby-sit for a couple of hours so Daddy Will, who has just finished nurturing Sam back to health from a fever and ear infection, could unwind at the gym. Sam opens a pop-up book and challenges me to find various sea creatures in it. He confesses that he studied it earlier so he could point them out faster.

The presence of a child changes a home. This child and these parents have enriched each other's lives beyond measure. Rev. Evans refuses to see the harm he does to children like Sam by denying their parents legal protections. But for the moment I am content as Sam pages through The New Yorker and asks me to read him the cartoon captions.

Paul wrote to the Corinthians, "If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am become sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal." Real love requires understanding. But let the angry ministers make their noise. Others, including gay-affirming ministers, will make a better noise, and the next generation will benefit from their efforts.

The phone rings. I let Sam answer, and he hears a familiar voice. We pack up his things, and in the elevator he pushes L for lobby. Daddy is waiting.

Obama’s No-Show

info@indegayforum.org (Jennifer Vanasco) — Wed, 06 May 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Jennifer Vanasco
First published in the Chicago Free Press, May 6, 2009

By the end of Barack Obama’s first 100 days, it became clear: gays and lesbians are not this president’s priority.

He stopped mentioning us, except for two notable cases: the brouhaha surrounding the invitation of Rev. Rick Warren to give the inaugural prayer, and the call to Congress to support including sexual orientation and gender identity in hate crimes.

Then, at just about the 100 day mark, bloggers started pointing out something disturbing: WhiteHouse.gov had stripped its “civil rights” page of almost all things gay.

It narrowed down promises to the LGBT community from eight to three, and from a full half-page to a few sentences.

When bloggers called the White House to protest, some of the promises came back, including a full repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell — but talk of repealing the Defense of Marriage Act had disappeared.

What also disappeared was this moving quote from Obama himself, on June 1, 2007, when he was still in campaign mode and working for our votes:

“While we have come a long way since the Stonewall riots in 1969, we still have a lot of work to do. Too often, the issue of LGBT rights is exploited by those seeking to divide us. But at its core, this issue is about who we are as Americans. It’s about whether this nation is going to live up to its founding promise of equality by treating all its citizens with dignity and respect.”

When blogger John Aravosis called the White House to ask what was going on, this is what he was told:

“Recently we overhauled the issues section to concisely reflect the President’s broad agenda, and will continue to update these pages. The President’s commitment on LGBT issues has not changed, and any suggestions to the contrary are false.”

Well. Maybe we’d believe that Obama’s commitment hasn’t changed if we saw some action on our issues, instead of almost complete avoidance.

Obama made that call for hate crimes legislation, great. Of course, that was the easiest of our issues to get behind — it is supported by the majority of our police forces and attorneys general, after all.

And yes, he’s facing big issues — the economic meltdown, two wars, now a retiring Supreme Court Justice. But in his first 100 days, he was somehow able to make it easier for women to sue for equal pay, lift Bush’s ban on stem cell research, lift the traveling restrictions for Cuban-Americans to Cuba, and protect two million acres of wilderness.

In other words, he made significant, sweeping change in government and for some groups of people, change that is only tangentially related — if at all — to the economy, or to the wars.

We’ve seen change, all right. Good change. For others. But we haven’t seen change for gays and lesbians and we haven’t seen proof of commitment to our issues.

Campaign promises are campaign promises. It is not enough that Obama said he was our “fierce advocate” during the campaign. He needs to now show us that he is our president as well.

Richard Socarides, a former adviser to President Clinton, pointed out in the Washington Post that Obama has no gay friends close to him in the administration. He does, however, seem to have evangelical friends.

If it’s true that you can tell a person by the company they keep, then we may be in deeper trouble than we know. We’ll have to see what the next 100 days brings.

Obama is a good president. But we are clearly not his priority. He has forgotten, perhaps, that we are part of America’s “founding promise.” Which means we need to stop being patient, stop giving him time, and start raising our voices until we are heard.

The ‘Bigot’ Card

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Tue, 05 May 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published at 365gay.com on May 1, 2009

Maggie Gallagher at the National Organization for Marriage—producers of the unintentionally hilarious “Gathering Storm” ad—has been mentioning “footnote 26” of the Iowa marriage decision quite a bit lately.

For example, she tells conservative blogger Rod Dreher that same-sex marriage requires “the rejection of the idea that children need a mom and dad as a cultural norm—or probably even as a respectable opinion. That’s become very clear for people who have the eyes to see it. (See e.g. footnote 26 of the Iowa decision).”

Elsewhere she describes the footnote as “the most heartbreaking sentence” of the decision.

What is this ominous, heartbreaking footnote? The offending bit is here:

“The research appears to strongly support the conclusion that same-sex couples foster the same wholesome environment as opposite-sex couples and suggests that the traditional notion that children need a mother and a father to be raised into healthy, well adjusted adults is based more on stereotype than anything else.”

So too says the American Academy of Pediatrics, the Child Welfare League of America, the National Association of Social Workers, the American Psychological Association—in fact, every major health and welfare organization that has examined the issue. The Iowa Supreme Court has mainstream professional opinion solidly on its side.

But to say that the opposing view is based on “stereotype” attacks our opponents’ last remotely plausible-sounding secular argument. No wonder they’re getting defensive.

The use of the word “stereotype” is a large part of what irks them. Those who rely more on stereotype than evidence are being unreasonable. And in the extreme, those who cling to unreasonable views are bigots. Elsewhere in the Dreher interview Gallagher states,

“Same-sex marriage is founded on a lie about human nature: ‘there is no difference between same-sex and opposite sex unions and you are a bigot if you disagree.’”

Indeed, Gallagher uses the term “bigot” and its cognates no fewer than five times in the short interview.

A bigot if you disagree? Neither the Iowa Supreme Court nor most marriage-equality advocates make any such sweeping statement. On the contrary, footnote 26 is attached to the following:

“On the other hand, we acknowledge the existence of reasoned opinions that dual-gender parenting is the optimal environment for children. These opinions, while thoughtful and sincere, were largely unsupported by reliable scientific studies.”

“Reasoned opinions” which are “thoughtful and sincere.” That’s about as far from “you’re a bigot if you disagree” as one can get.

Marriage-equality opponents are increasingly complaining that we’re calling them bigots. This leads to a kind of double-counting of our arguments: For any argument X that we offer, opponents complain both that we’re saying X and that we’re saying that anyone who disagrees with X is a bigot.

Then, instead of responding to X—that is, debating the issue on the merits—they focus on the alleged bigotry charge and grumble about being called names.

I don’t deny that some of us do call them names (sometimes deserved, sometimes not). Yet even those who call them “bigots”—such as Frank Rich in his New York Times op-ed “The Bigots’ Last Hurrah”—often engage the substance as well. Increasingly, our opponents ignore the substance in favor of touting their alleged persecution.

Personally, I think the term “bigot” should be used sparingly. Many of those who oppose marriage equality are otherwise decent people who can and sometimes do respond to reasoned dialogue.

To call such persons bigots is not merely inaccurate; it’s a conversation-stopper. It says, “your views are beyond the pale, and I won’t dignify them with discussion.”

But let’s not pretend that any one side in this debate has a corner on conversation-stoppers. There are plenty of people on Gallagher’s side who consider us “deviants” or “perverts,” and those terms don’t exactly welcome dialogue either. Neither does Gallagher’s calling us “liars”—as in, “same-sex marriage is based on a lie about human nature.”

There’s a more general problem here, and it’s hardly unique to the gay-rights debate. Suppose you’ve reflected on some controversial issue and adopted a particular position. Presumably, you’ve decided that it’s the most reasonable position to hold. How, then, do you explain the fact that seemingly reasonable people deny it?

There are several possibilities, most of them not very flattering. Perhaps your opponents are inattentive, or not very bright, or have logical blind spots, or are swayed by superstition.

Or perhaps they’re just being bigots. It happens.

(Interestingly, some philosophers have suggested on this basis that there’s no such thing as a “reasonable disagreement,” strictly speaking. If you accept P but think that denying P is “reasonable,” then you should either switch to not-P or become agnostic about the issue.)

I don’t pretend to understand why seemingly reasonable and decent people adopt what strikes me as an obviously wrongheaded position on marriage equality. I think the reasons are various and complex, though they typically involve a distortion of rationality caused by other commitments, such as religious bias.

But I also recognize that my opponents do, or should, wonder the same thing about me—and the ever-growing number of reasonable and decent Americans who support marriage equality.

Which leaves us with a few choices.

(1) We can call each other crazy and stupid, or bigots, or deviants. This is generally not helpful.

(2) We can pretend that we’re above all that, but complain that the other side is doing it. This, I fear, is what Gallagher is doing, and it strikes me as equally unhelpful. It would be akin to my saying that Gallagher’s position is that you should oppose same-sex marriage, and if you don’t, you’re a liar (or a heathen or a pervert or whatever).

(3) We can actually engage the substance of each other’s positions.

I can understand why those with poorly supported positions would want to avoid (3). That doesn’t necessarily make them bigots, but it doesn’t reflect very well on them, either.

Tempest in a Tiara

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published in 365gay.com on April 24, 2009

So a contestant for what is in large measure a popularity contest says something unpopular and doesn't win. Why am I having a hard time getting worked up over this?

I'm talking about Carrie Prejean, Miss California USA, who when asked by Miss USA judge and gay celebrity blogger Perez Hilton whether she supports same-sex marriage, cheerfully and politely said no (or something like it—her answer wasn't terribly clear). Specifically, she said,

"Well, I think it's great that Americans are able to choose one or the other. We live in a land where you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage. And you know what, in my country, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offense to anybody out there, but that's how I was raised and that's how I think it should be between a man and a woman. Thank you very much."

Not the most articulate answer (what's "opposite marriage"?), nor the most original ("that's how I was raised"). But I give her credit for grace under pressure, and for owning up to her convictions knowing that they might cost her the crown.

That doesn't mean that her answer was in any way acceptable. Her answer was wrong—badly, painfully wrong.

But disagreeing with her answer doesn't prevent me from acknowledging and admiring her integrity. Generally speaking, I prefer people saying what they believe—even if I disagree sharply—rather than merely what they think others want to hear. It's a trait desirable in both friends and foes.

No one knows for sure whether she would have won with a different answer. But her 15 minutes of fame are stretching into 45 (at least) thanks to the predictable backlash.

Perez Hilton, demonstrating the gravitas, nobility, and calm judicial temperament that doubtless explains his selection as a pageant judge, promptly thereafter called her a "dumb bitch."

This in turn prompted right-wing cries of victimhood. Maggie Gallagher, president of the National Organization for Marriage (which released the laughable "Gathering Storm" ad) described Hilton as "the new face for gay marriage in this country." Gary Schneeberger, vice president of Focus on the Family, wrote in the New York Times,

"What has happened to Miss Prejean over the past few days is nothing short of religious persecution. No, it is not violent persecution — but that does not minimize its existence or its danger."

Religious persecution? Because Perez Hilton is calling her nasty names? Oh, gag me with a tiara.

Perez Hilton is a gossip blogger known mainly for posting celebrity pictures and then adding juvenile scribbles to them. (His favorite embellishment seems to be ejaculate dripping from people's mouths.) It's not for nothing that his nom de plume resembles that of someone else who is famous just for being famous. Being obnoxious is what he does for a living.

So it's no surprise that the religious right latched on to him. They've got nothing plausible to say in response to the serious marriage-equality advocates, so they make Hilton the face for the movement and then complain about what a nasty movement it is. Their intellectual dishonesty in doing so eclipses whatever integrity I admired in Miss Prejean.

Why, for example, didn't they cite the letter to Prejean from Geoff Kors at Equality California, a letter which seeks "open, honest dialogue"? Let me guess: it's because gracious letters from true movement leaders don't support their victim narrative.

Even Gallagher concedes, "I don't believe the response—hatred, ridicule, name-calling—by Perez Hilton is supported by most gay people or by most gay marriage supporters."

But then she backtracks by adding, "But, sadly, it is increasingly the visceral and public response of the gay marriage movement to anyone who disagrees with its views."

Sorry, but Perez Hilton's blog is not the gay marriage movement. By Gallagher's own admission, it is not even representative of the gay marriage movement. It's a straw man, which is about the best that they can hope to knock down anymore.

An Inclusive Catholicism

info@indegayforum.org (Jennifer Vanasco) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Jennifer Vanasco
First published in the Chicago Free Press, April 16, 2009

On Good Friday, Jenny and I went to services at a Catholic church near Jenny's lesbian neighborhood of Andersonville in Chicago.

Jenny and I have had a lot of discussions about which denomination should be our church home. We take the decision seriously, because we both take religion seriously; Jenny grew up Catholic and went to Catholic school, and though I was baptized in that faith as well, I alternated between mass with my dad and the liberal (and gay-welcoming) United Church of Christ with my mom. As a young adult, I attended a (couldn't be more progressive) Unitarian-Universalist seminary briefly.

We both like the "high church" ritual of Catholicism — but we want children together, and neither of us wants to raise kids in a tradition that both tells girls that no matter how faithful they may be, they can never be priests, and that tells children of gay parents that our relationships and families are immoral.

"I don't want our kids to hear one thing in church and then have us say another thing to them in the car ride home," Jenny said.

But kids are still a few years in our future, so when we're in the same city, we try to go to church together, and we alternate denominations.

On Good Friday, then, it was a Catholic church — though Jenny was worried about taking me somewhere we might not be welcome on such a solemn holy day.

Most Christian churches have an alternate sort of service on Good Friday, the day they commemorate the death of Jesus on the cross. In Catholic churches, this means that there is no mass, so there is more flexibility in the service.

Even so, we were stunned to see a woman lead the service at this particular church. To see a woman standing at the altar. To see a woman holding up the Host during communion. To hear all the parts in the traditional crucifixion story — Pontius Pilate, voices in the crowd, and Jesus himself — read by women.

Most of all though, we were startled to hear the homily, which was all about social justice — and about how all should be welcome in the Catholic church despite theological disagreements, including gays and lesbians.

Jenny grabbed my arm. "What is happening right now?" she whispered.

We were awestruck — and by awestruck, I mean that I was moved to tears.

For an hour, we had a taste of what the Catholic church could be: a warm, welcoming, sacred home that focused on comforting those who are suffering; on righting the situation of those who have been wronged; and on welcoming those who have been excluded.

It was revolutionary.

"If this was what the Catholic church was everywhere, I would convert," I told Jenny, as we left the church holding hands, the priest smiling at us.

Some might argue that a Catholic church that treats women equally and recognizes the sacredness of gay and lesbian relationships is not the Catholic church at all — but I think it is a Catholic church that hews closer to its social justice roots, and closer to the basic principles of inclusion for all that Jesus himself espoused.

In any case, that church did a brave thing, just as it is always brave to ask people to see what could be, instead of insisting that they live with what is.

During the prayers, the women led us to pray for all who are excluded, for all who are hurt by unfair legislation. And afterwards, I added my own prayer — for the world-wide Catholic church to become more like this, to become its own best possibility.

Storm of Nonsense

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published at 365.com on April 17, 2009

Leave it to the National Organization for Marriage (NOM) to try to rain on our parade.

I'm talking about NOM's "Gathering Storm" ad, in which various characters warn that recent gay-rights victories are threatening their fundamental liberties: "There's a storm gathering. The clouds are dark, and the winds are strong. And I am afraid…"

The ad, in turn, prompted a number of YouTube responses, ranging from hilarious parodies ("There's a bullshit storm gathering"), to serious fact-checking, to exposure of the audition tapes.

The latter was embarrassing for NOM, since it highlighted that these frightened folks were actually actors reading lines. (Either that, or every single one of them is both a California doctor AND a Massachusetts parent—and what are the odds of that?)

Personally, I don't find it overly troubling that the characters are all actors. The ad contained a small-print caption stating as much, and besides, their forced emotion was about as realistic as the lightning in the background.

No, it's not the use of actors that's troubling. It's the fact that virtually everything they say is misleading or false.

The central claim of the ad is that same-sex marriage threatens heterosexuals' freedoms: "My freedom will be taken away….I will have no choice."

One would think that Iowa and Vermont had just declared same-sex marriage mandatory.

But of course, they did no such thing. They simply acknowledged that gay and lesbian couples are entitled to the same legal rights and responsibilities as their straight counterparts.

How does this threaten anyone's freedom? The ad mentions three cases—presumably the best examples they have—to illustrate the alleged danger:

(1) "I'm a California doctor who must choose between my faith and my job."

Not exactly. California doctors can practice whatever faith they like—as long as it doesn't interfere with patient care. The case in question involves a doctor who declined to perform artificial insemination for a lesbian couple, thus violating California anti-discrimination law.

I can appreciate the argument that a liberal society protects religious freedom, and that we should thus allow doctors in non-emergency cases to refer patients to their colleagues for procedures which violate their consciences.

But what are the limits of such exemptions? What if a doctor opposed divorce, and thus refused to perform insemination for a heterosexual woman in her second marriage? What if she opposed interfaith marriage, and refused to perform insemination for a Christian married to a Jew, or even for a Catholic married to a Methodist?

Or what if a doctor refused to perform insemination for anyone except Muslims, on the grounds that children ought only to be raised in Muslim households? These are questions our opponents never bother to consider when they play the religious-conscience card.

(2) "I'm part of a New Jersey church group punished by the government because we can't support same-sex marriage."

No, you're (an actor playing) part of a New Jersey church group that operates Ocean Grove Camp. Ocean Grove Camp received a property-tax exemption by promising to make its grounds open to the public; it also received substantial tax dollars to support the facility's maintenance. It then chose to exclude some of those taxpayers—in this case, a lesbian couple wishing to use the camp's allegedly "public" pavilion for their civil union ceremony. So naturally, New Jersey revoked the pavilion's (though not the whole camp's) property-tax exemption.

(3) "I am a Massachusetts parent helplessly watching public schools teach my son that gay marriage is OK."

Massachusetts parents—like any other parents—can teach their children what they wish at home. What they cannot do is dictate public school curriculum so that it reflects only the families they like.

What these complaints make abundantly clear is that by "freedom," our opponents mean the freedom to live in a world where they never have to confront the fact that others choose to exercise their freedom differently.

In other words, they intend the very opposite of a free society.

According to the NOM ad, in seeking marriage equality, gay-rights advocates "want to change the way I live."

There is a tiny grain of truth in this latter claim. Marriage is a public institution. If you enter the public sphere, you may think or feel or say whatever you like about someone's marriage, but you nevertheless must respect its legal boundaries.

Even so, I think our opponents have incredible chutzpah to frame this issue as being about personal liberty. Freedom means freedom to differ, not to obliterate difference.

Or as Wanda Sykes aptly put it, capturing the irony of the freedom complaint:

"If you don't believe in same-sex marriage…then don't marry somebody of the same sex."

Marriage Turns a Corner

info@indegayforum.org (Richard J. Rosendall) — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by Richard J. Rosendall
First published in Bay Windows, April 16, 2009

I listened to my boyfriend Patrick on the overseas call as he tried to wrap his French-African voice around the unfamiliar word, "Iowa."

The gay community has passed a great turning point in our struggle. The realization came to me sometime between April 7, when I watched a YouTube video of Iowa Senate Majority Leader Mike Gronstal refusing to help overturn the Iowa Supreme Court decision, and April 8, when I read reactions to the legislative victories in Vermont and Washington, D.C. A cultural shift was happening before my eyes, and something I had been saying for years suddenly hit me viscerally: We’re going to win. It’s really going to happen.

If you don’t believe me, listen to the tone of desperation on the far right. The "Gathering Storm" television ad by the National Organization for Marriage (NOM) has become an instant camp classic with its zombie actors posing as people harmed by same-sex marriage. Audition footage obtained by the Human Rights Campaign shows obviously untrained actors in front of a green screen struggling to read the Teleprompter. When I saw one of the actors refer to "a rainbow collision [sic] of people of every creed," I thought she was talking about the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force’s Creating Change Conference. The ad quickly spawned a Weather Girls remix. To top it off, NOM President Maggie Gallagher announced a nationwide initiative called "2 Million for Marriage" with the chatroom acronym 2M4M.

Some on the right are all but conceding defeat. Conservative columnist Cal Thomas wrote on April 7, "The battle over gay marriage is on the way to being lost." As usual, he portrayed marriage equality activists as seeking to destroy America. He bitterly rehashed several familiar arguments: denying the civil realm altogether by asserting that marriage "was God’s idea, not government’s"; claiming that allowing gays to marry means anything goes, so polygamy is next; and treating courts as inherently illegitimate, as if they were not part of "the foundations of our nation" that he purports to defend. At least Thomas was honest enough to rebuke marriage-equality opponents for not being similarly exercised about the heterosexual divorce rate.

On April 10, I was a guest on Mark Thompson’s "Make It Plain" public affairs program on Sirius & XM satellite radio. He began by reporting that Morality in Media had issued a statement suggesting that same-sex marriage leads to mass murder. I said they must not be doing it right.

One listener demanded to know how Thompson, as an ordained minister, could support same-sex marriage. He replied by distinguishing between civil and religious law, and noted that John Payton, President of the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund (which filed an amicus brief against California’s Prop. 8), had made a strong equal protection case for the pro-gay position. Thompson’s unscientific poll of his listeners went 80 percent for marriage equality.

On April 7, former U.S. House Speaker Newt Gingrich called the Iowa ruling "outrageously wrong." His prediction of a "major movement" against what he termed "judicial arrogance" sounded like whistling past the graveyard, and his claim of support for traditional marriage served mainly as a reminder that he is working on his third.

Also on April 7, Family Research Council President Tony Perkins responded to the Vermont and D.C. votes by saying, "Same-sex ’marriage’ is a movement driven by wealthy homosexual activists and a liberal elite determined to destroy not only the institution of marriage, but democracy as well." Blogger Andrew Sullivan tartly replied, "I had no idea that overwhelming votes in two legislative chambers was an attempt to destroy democracy."

As with the torrent of ever-more-implausible right-wing attacks on President Obama, the old lies, for all the bluster, are falling flat. Straight Americans are increasingly accepting the fact that gay folk really do exist, that we merely seek the same protections they take for granted, and that the threat we allegedly pose is chimerical.

"That is good," Patrick said simply when I called him with the news about Vermont and D.C. And so it was. A key part of any successful long-term struggle is keeping the faith. The burdens and the barriers we continue to face are great; but now we know more clearly than ever before that we are part of a winning cause. That knowledge is enough for this day.

The Limits of Law

info@indegayforum.org (James Kirchick) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by James Kirchick
First published in Advocate.com on April 13, 2009

In a unanimous ruling last week, the Iowa supreme court held, "Perhaps the ultimate disadvantage expressed in the testimony of the plaintiffs," challenging the state statute limiting marriage to one man and one woman, "is the inability to obtain for themselves and for their children the personal and public affirmation that accompanies marriage." While gay rights advocates are right to celebrate this landmark decision — a major victory given Iowa’s place in the socially conservative American heartland — the court’s sweeping claim here should give them pause.

Ever since same-sex marriage emerged on the national agenda, the most convincing point in its favor has been the argument that barring gays from marrying someone of the same gender violates the bedrock American constitutional principle of equality before the law. Equal Protection is not limited to the federal Constitution; this legal reasoning was paramount in bringing about pro-gay marriage decisions in Massachusetts, California, and Iowa, where supreme courts all ruled that statutes barring same-sex marriage violated state constitutional equal protection clauses. All of these courts recognized the discrimination inherent in preventing gay people from enjoying the same rights and privileges that the government bestows to heterosexuals.

Yet the Iowa court ruling, at least rhetorically, suggests another rationale for why gay marriage should be legalized: because without it, gay people are unable "to obtain for themselves and for their children the personal and public affirmation that accompanies marriage." In other words, without official government recognition of their romantic unions, gays cannot gain social acceptance. While it is an admirable aspiration on the part of the Iowa justices to correct this malady, it elides a distinction between what the law can and cannot accomplish.

In its decision, the court readily acknowledged the various legal abasements to which gays in Iowa are subjected, from the "inability to make many life and death decisions affecting their partner" to the "inability to share in their partners' state-provided health insurance, public-employee pension benefits, and many private-employer-provided benefits and protections." In addition to the bestowal of these benefits, the altering of public attitudes in a more "progressive" direction may be another positive side effect, but a court decision will not be the panacea for entrenched homophobia.

To think otherwise risks complacency. The vast amount of effort that has already been poured into passing hate-crimes and antidiscrimination statutes is evidence of the proclivity to assume that laws are enough to change popularly held attitudes. A person harboring so much ingrained homophobic animus that he would physically attack a gay person is unlikely to be persuaded from doing so because of a law imposing stiffer penalties on such assault. While an employment nondiscrimination ordinance banning sexual-orientation bias as cause for termination will no doubt protect some gays from being fired, it is not as if the existence of such a regulation will make homophobic employers more enlightened in their attitudes. Likewise, newly legal gay marriage in Iowa won't help the closeted teenager in Des Moines whose parents will throw him out of the house if he tells them he's gay. Alleviating these dire situations is far harder than passing a law or winning a strategic legal victory.

None of this should be construed as an argument against the Iowa court's decision, which I applaud. But, at the same time, I worry that by investing so much energy in winning court decisions and not working to win marriage equality through popularly elected legislatures, the gay rights movement is shunting aside the harder — but no less important — work of convincing the American people that there is nothing unhealthy, morally wrong, or threatening about homosexuality.

Social conservatives worry that court decisions like the ones in Massachusetts, California, and Iowa will lead to greater cultural acceptance of homosexuality, and in the end, they have a right to be anxious. As the Civil Rights Act of 1965 played a role in altering the way Americans think about race, the Iowa supreme court's decision will change the way Iowans view their fellow gay citizens, at least over time. But legal decisions written by a handful of lawyers form only a part of the struggle for the hearts and minds of the public. It wasn't lawyers and legislators who won the struggle for black equality, but rather the moral suasion, physical sacrifice, and humility of the everyday participants in the African-American civil rights movement that convinced Americans of the immorality and intolerability of the racial status quo.

Disputing the notion that marriage should remain heterosexuals-only because that's the way it's always been, the Iowa justices wrote that such reasoning can "allow discrimination to become acceptable as tradition and helps to explain how discrimination can exist for such a long time." The Iowa supreme court put a chink in the armor of the deeply ensconced antigay animus that bedevils so much of this country. Reveling in this victory, however, gays should not expect court decisions to be a substitute for the widespread social acceptance that we have sought for so long but have yet to achieve.

Quitters Don’t Win, but Winners Quit

info@indegayforum.org (James Kirchick) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by James Kirchick
First published in The Washington Post on April 12, 2009

Just in time for spring wedding season, gay marriage activists are celebrating a triumphant few weeks. Last Tuesday, the Vermont legislature effectively legalized same-sex unions in that state. Days earlier, the Iowa Supreme Court had ruled that a statute barring gay marriage was unconstitutional. And here in the nation's capital, the D.C. Council voted unanimously to recognize same-sex marriages performed elsewhere.

But amid all the history being made, one gay rights organization did something really historic: It announced that it would shut its doors at the end of the year, because its mission was complete.

Formed in 1999 to lobby for the right of gay couples to adopt children in Connecticut, Love Makes a Family was the lead organization advocating for same-sex marriage in that state. It successfully lobbied lawmakers to pass a civil unions bill in 2005, but fell short of achieving its ultimate goal until last October, when the state supreme court ruled that the Connecticut constitution endows same-sex couples with the right to marry.

"Mission accomplished" is one of the most difficult things to say when your organization depends on working toward a cause, but Love Makes a Family did it. And other gay groups may soon need to follow suit. If the gay community truly wants to achieve equality, it will have to overcome a victim mindset that is slowly becoming obsolete.

After the thrill of the October ruling in Connecticut, Love Makes a Family executive director Anne Stanback said that she and her staff took stock of where the organization stood: They conducted surveys, focus groups and interviews with supporters and donors. No one really knew where to go from there. "There was no clear consensus about what our mission should be," she says. So she and her colleagues decided to shift course, writing in an open letter released April 1: "We have accomplished our mission, and now we want to conclude our work on a high note." The organization's political action committee will continue to raise funds and support candidates, but as of Dec. 31, Love Makes a Family's lobbying and educational divisions will become inoperative.

Contrast the decision of Love Makes a Family with that of MassEquality, a Massachusetts organization that won equal marriage rights through a state supreme court decision in 2003. It fought off successive attempts to repeal that ruling, a battle that ended conclusively in 2007 when legislators blocked an effort to put a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage on the ballot. Massachusetts' gay citizens are now equal under state law in every way, which would seem to undermine the organization's eponymous raison d'etre. Yet MassEquality continues to operate and raises money that could be directed to gay rights organizations fighting more pressing battles in other parts of the country. Today, its agenda has less to do with supporting gay rights than it does with lobbying the state government to pour more money into pre-existing, already generously funded programs such as anti-bullying measures, senior services and others.

Once the goals of an organization with a specific mission are achieved, as Love Makes a Family's were last October, it should relish its victory, cease operations and move on. This is the sign of communal maturity. The continued operation of a gay rights organization in the state that was the first to institute marriage equality and that has the most progressive gay rights laws in the country reflects a sense of eternal victimhood.

Of course, gay rights are not just about the right to adopt children or the right to marry. There remain the ongoing campaigns to end the military's discriminatory "don't ask, don't tell" policy and to pass the Employment Non-Discrimination Act, which would make it illegal to fire someone on the grounds of sexual orientation. But given the overwhelming support for these moves among younger Americans, these victories are not far off, and gay rights organizations should start facing the prospect that in the near future, their missions will be superfluous.

This is a realization that comes easier to younger gays like me (I'm 25) than to older ones. For people who grew up in a time when being open about one's homosexuality could result in being fired or thrown into prison, it's harder to move out of a mindset that sees the plight of gay people as one of perpetual struggle. This attitude is all the more pronounced in those who hold leadership positions in the gay rights movement, as their life's work depends upon the notion that we are always and everywhere oppressed.

It's in the culture of any institution to justify its existence. This is especially so with civil rights groups, which thrive on a sense of persecution, real or perceived. Take the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation, for instance. GLAAD was established in the mid-1980s, when, as its Web site correctly states, "representations of lesbians and gay men tended to fall into one of two categories: defamatory or non-existent." The situation today, however, is dramatically improved, as gays have essentially won the fight over popular culture. Countless television shows and movies feature positive portrayals of gay characters, and it's a career faux pas for people in the entertainment industry to say anything that could be remotely construed as hostile to gays (see what happened to superagent Michael Ovitz when he alleged that a "gay mafia" ran Hollywood).

Rather than rest on its laurels, however, GLAAD raises millions of dollars from media companies and wealthy donors to subsidize a bloated national staff. Its work seems to consist of little more than issuing hypersensitive press releases complaining about purportedly anti-gay content in television commercials and throwing extravagant parties to honor straight celebrities for talking about their gay friends. Far from demonstrating the increasing political power of the gay community and the acceptance it has won, GLAAD is the epitome of neediness and vulnerability.

Gay civil rights groups have a tendency to minimize victories and exaggerate threats. When President Obama chose the Rev. Rick Warren to deliver the invocation at his inauguration, those groups complained loudly. Although Warren had campaigned in favor of Proposition 8, the California measure banning same-sex marriage, the decision to include him in a purely ceremonial position signaled no change in administration policy on gay rights. Nevertheless, his mere reading of a two-minute prayer drove gay organizations apoplectic. After all, bogeymen like Warren help with fundraising appeals.

Of course, the passage of Proposition 8 last fall highlights the fact that the struggle today remains real and that love only makes a family within clearly defined state borders. There is still important work to be done nationwide, and none of this is to downplay the daily efforts put forth by gay organizations in socially conservative parts of the country. But if the ultimate goal of the movement is to achieve equality for homosexuals, then those leading it should appropriately acknowledge progress along the way. That means accepting victory when it's achieved, rather than trumping up opposition at every opportunity.

When I asked Stanback how Connecticut's gay community reacted to Love Makes a Family's announcement, she said that the response had been overwhelmingly positive but was also characterized by sadness. "There was a sense of community," she says. "It was exciting to be a part of a movement."

It's understandable that a civil rights organization's decision to shut down would induce nostalgia for struggles gone by. But the underlying reason for the move represents a step forward. Arriving days before Iowa and Vermont legalized gay marriage, it points to the day, hard as it may be to imagine now, when civil rights groups will no longer be necessary.

God Hates Censorship!

info@indegayforum.org (James Kirchick) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by James Kirchick
First published in The Advocate, May 2009

“God hates the queen Mary’s College, the fag-infested U.K., England, and all having to do with spreading sodomite lies via The Laramie Project, this tacky bit of cheap fag propaganda masquerading as legitimate theater.” Thus spake the Reverend Fred Phelps of Topeka, Kan., a man far more famous than he deserves to be. Founder of the Westboro Baptist Church, the bigot preacher’s condemnations of homosexuality are so outrageous — and have become the subject of such abundant coverage by the media — that the man has become a punch line.

At least once a day, transmissions from the Westboro Baptist Church pour forth from the fax machine near my desk at The New Republic — all of them declaring God’s hate for some municipality or institution due to its not taking the same zero-tolerance position on “faggotry” as the Reverend Fred. As I presume the case is elsewhere in Washington (Phelps claims to fax every U.S. congressman and senator, the White House, and many major media organizations on a daily basis), these missives are deposited directly into the trash or, as in my office, taped to a door for the general bemusement of one’s coworkers.

Marginal and mad as Phelps and his followers may be, however, many see the Westboro Baptist Church as a growing and actual threat to democratic society, rather than a bizarre coven of traveling performance artists. Those who have given Phelps such undue attention have tended to be either opportunistic journalists looking for a good story or gay groups trying to scare the bejesus out of donors; in other words, they’ve had understandable, if not exactly justifiable, reasons for obsessing over this silly man. But now an authority no less prestigious than the government of the United Kingdom joins those who are making a mountain out of a molehill.

Earlier this year Phelps, along with his shrew of a daughter Shirley, announced plans to protest a production of The Laramie Project at Queen Mary’s College in Basingstoke, a town about 50 miles outside of London. The play, which has become a required performance in the drama department of practically every right-thinking liberal high school and university in the United States, tells the story of Matthew Shepard from the perspective of dozens of people involved in his life and untimely death. Phelps, his daughter, and whatever followers they could muster were planning to stand outside the production space with their well-worn neon poster-board signs, which depict stick figures in all manner of compromising, sodomitic positions, while shouting “God hates fags!”

“Both these individuals have engaged in unacceptable behavior by inciting hatred against a number of communities,” an official with the U.K. Border Agency said in an attempt to justify the decision to bar the Phelpses from entering the country. “The government has made it clear it opposes extremism in all its forms.” Never mind the speciousness of this claim (the U.K. government has not been nearly as discriminating in its treatment of foreign radical Muslim preachers, many of whom have ties to terrorist organizations and have called on their British coreligionists to wage jihad against the British state). Are governments justified in banning or otherwise hindering the speech of individuals who “incite hatred” of minority groups, and if so, should gays be cheering this particular decision?

On its face, barring the likes of Fred Phelps and those who engage in such rhetorical brutality seems like a simple, catchall solution to an obnoxious problem. There’s no question that Phelps is a hatemonger whose most flamboyant words might be construed as a call to violence. And given Europe’s history with fascism and popular susceptibility to demagogues, one can understand how the British government would be particularly sensitive about a seeming crossbreed of Adolf Hitler and Elmer Gantry setting foot on English soil so as to shout bigoted insults about a once-oppressed minority group.

Ultimately, however, punishing Phelps for what he says is not just wrongheaded but self-defeating. One of the most fundamental aspects of a free society is freedom of speech. And that freedom extends to everyone, even the most pernicious. It means freedom for nasty, evil men like Phelps.

The decision to bar Phelps is counterproductive as it bestows far too much credit on the man’s persuasive capacities. In explaining the rule under which his entry was barred — a nebulous law that prohibits the incitement of religious and/or racial “hatred” — the British government stated, “The exclusions policy is targeted at all those who seek to stir up tension and provoke others to violence, regardless of their origins and beliefs.” Like most regulations aimed at suppressing hate speech, the British law is useless, and the Phelps imbroglio demonstrates its ultimate futility.

It’s naive to think that everyday heterosexual British citizens with ambivalent views about homosexuality would, by dint of hearing the words of Fred Phelps, not only transform into raging homophobes but acquire a hatred of gays so intense that it would compel them to commit violence against the first homosexual to cross their paths. Moreover, treating Phelps as a genuine security threat along the lines of a terrorist gives him the attention he so desperately seeks. Perhaps if Phelps’s congregation were not made up largely of his immediate family, he would be worth worrying about. But Phelps makes a living by seeking publicity, and by turning him into a martyr for free speech, the British government has unwittingly connected him with a cause he only besmirches.

Banning the speech of those with whom we disagree, even those who lie about us and condemn us to hell, betrays a fundamental principle of the gay rights movement: the notion that individuals should be free to live as they like provided their actions do not impinge on the freedom of others. Freedom is an expansive concept, including not just the right to love a consenting adult of the same gender but the right to speak and write what one believes. Phelps’s words may be hateful, and many gay people undoubtedly take offense at what he has to say, but in a free society, nobody has the right to not be offended.

Indeed, the gay rights movement would not be where it is today were it not for freedom of speech. It wasn’t so long ago that gay people could not meet at a bar without fear that the police would raid the premises, assault the patrons, and cart them off to jail in paddy wagons while carefully tipped-off news photographers documented the scene for the next day’s front page. Early gay publications were confiscated in the mail and their publishers were prosecuted for distributing “obscene material.” Gay rights pioneers cited the freedoms elucidated in America’s founding documents to defend their right to peacefully assemble, protest, and express their views, often facing fierce resistance from the government and society at large.

But ultimately, gay people prevailed. Allowed to speak freely and honestly, they have effectively made their case, and today the majority of Americans support some form of legal recognition for gay couples, the repeal of “don’t ask, don’t tell,” and the right of gays to adopt children. And while many Americans — perhaps most — still view homosexuality as immoral, they are increasingly repelled by the rhetoric of the Fred Phelpses of this world. The culture is now overwhelmingly supportive of gay equality, and it’s those who would hold us back who are on the rhetorical defensive. The case for gay rights has proven itself resilient over the past half century and has gained strength with time. It does not require the shuttering of opposing views — no matter how malicious, misleading, or unfair — to win the day, which it eventually will.

The Reverend Phelps may think we’re going to hell. Let him say it until he’s blue in the face.

No More Mr. Nice Gay?

info@indegayforum.org (John Corvino) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 00:00:00 EDT

by John Corvino
First published at 365gay.com on April 4, 2009

Readers of this column occasionally complain that I'm too nice to our enemies. They may have a point.

I'm an easygoing person by nature. It's not a deliberate strategy; it's just who I am. Usually the trait serves me well, though there are times I wish I had a reputation as more of an asshole. People generally steer clear of assholes, for fear of provoking them, and intimidation has its uses.

Even though my being "Mr. Nice Guy" wasn't chosen for strategic purposes, I try to work it to my advantage. It gives me influence with a certain group of people. And it's shaped my career as a gay-rights advocate, one who aims for thoughtful engagement with the other side.

Such engagement can be productive. For one thing, the more our opponents know us personally, the harder it is for them to demonize us. (Not impossible, obviously, but harder.) Part of my life's mission is to create cognitive dissonance for those who would label all gays as angry deviants.

But engagement is also important because, like it or not, our opponents still capture majorities in most states. I don't doubt that the tide is shifting strongly in our favor, but we've got a lot of work to do. One effective way to reach the movable middle is to take opponents' concerns seriously.

I say "one effective way," not "the only effective way." There's a place for militant activism. And I'm not just saying that because I like getting along with people—militant activists included. I really believe it.

There's a character type in the GLBT community that we might refer to as the Angry Queers. (It's a caricature, to be sure, but like any good caricature it captures something important.) They're angry, and they want everyone to know it.

They're angry at our opponents. They're angry at me for civilly engaging those opponents. They're angry at the schools who host our debates, for giving the opposition a platform, as well as for not providing (take your pick): (a) free parking; (b) accessible seating; (c) more Q&A time; (d) universal health care.

They're angry at the world generally, and they're going to let everyone know it.

There are times when I'm sincerely grateful for Angry Queers. They jolt us out of our complacency. They remind us that these issues can have life-or-death implications. Yes, they make us uncomfortable, but sometimes we should be uncomfortable.

So they have their role, and I have mine. Both have their uses.

It's tempting to cast the resulting alliance as a "Good Cop/Bad Cop" strategy. Tempting, but not so easy. For when it comes to moral issues, "Good Cop/Bad Cop" seems unstable—maybe even unsustainable.

In this debate, the Good Cop tells opponents, "You have reasonable concerns—just like the many other decent people who share your views. Let's hear those concerns so we can address them thoughtfully."

The Bad Cop tells opponents, "Your 'concerns' are prejudice, pure and simple. And the best way to stamp out prejudice is to make life as uncomfortable as possible for anyone who tries to express it. That's how society handles bigots: we don't accommodate them; we ostracize them."

Needless to say, these strategies are at cross purposes. One cannot simultaneous tell people that one wants to hear their concerns and also that they'd better shut up if they know what's good for them.

I don't pretend to have an easy answer to this dilemma. The debate is unlike, say, the health-care debate, where everyone agrees that healing the sick is a good thing, and the disagreement is over who pays for it and how.

The gay-rights debate is a debate about whether our deep romantic commitments are a good thing. It's about the nature of family, the authority of scripture, and other core moral issues. It cuts far deeper than "who pays for it and how?" (which, admittedly, has its own moral entanglements).

I agree with the Angry Queers that the other side is wrong—badly wrong, wrong in ways that profoundly harm innocent people. And I can understand their desire to marginalize anyone who doubts the moral value of our relationships. I get it. I get it strategically, and I get it personally.

But, for reasons both strategic and personal, I can't join their approach. So I keep doing my "Good Cop" thing, hoping for synergy in this unstable but necessary alliance.