No Argument

This is the last straw for me. I took Americablog's pledge.

Melody Barnes seems to be a shining example of the kind of person I expected Barack Obama to surround himself with when I voted for him for President. She is Obama's Senior Domestic Policy Advisor, and Director of his Domestic Policy Council. A tape of a speech she gave at the Boston College of Law included a response to a question about same-sex marriage. When the White House got the tape, they went through the Agonies of the Damned over two full days determining whether they'd let Boston College make it public or not. Eventually the White House saw that it would be futile to try and censor it.

Like the President she works for, and so many others in the administration, Barnes is articulate, humane, self-possessed, good-humored and exceptionally intelligent. But look at the damage done to all that because of the administration's decision to side with the Catholic Church and the National Organization for Marriage. I was going to say the administration is incoherent on same-sex marriage, but it is not - the Obama administration opposes our equality.

That prevents the most senior advisors like Barnes from issuing a simple declarative sentence - "I support same-sex marriage" - even when it is clear that is her position. Instead, when asked a direct question, she has to speak in the wild circumlocutions and detours that are now becoming characteristic of this administration on this topic:

"I guess I would respond in a couple of different ways. One, I appreciate, I really appreciate your frustration and your disappointment with the president's position on this issue. He has taken a position, and at the same time, he has also articulated the number of ways that he wants to try and move the ball forward for gay, lesbian and transgendered Americans, including signing the repeal of the Defense of Marriage Act, and a whole host of other things that we've started to do to model as a leader in terms of what the federal government is doing, as well as to encourage changes both in the military, in the workplace, and certainly with regard to hate crimes."

For the record, the President's position in same-sex marriage is this: "I'm a Christian. And so, although I try not to have my religious beliefs dominate or determine my political views on this issue, I do believe that tradition, and my religious beliefs say that marriage is something sanctified between a man and a woman."

While that is a position, it is not an argument. Rather, it is indistinguishable from the positions (not arguments) adopted by the Vatican and NOM - which is to say, it is unchallengeable in any civic forum. And it is intended to be unchallengeable in any civic forum. References to tradition and particularly sanctification have little purpose other than to short circuit any opposition - certainly any secular opposition, which is what the President was being asked about.

So when Barnes says . . .

"when I walk into the White House . . . I work to put all arguments in front of the president, [but] as you say, I also work for the president. And we have very robust policy conversations, very robust constitutional conversations with the White House counsel, and others about these issues, and we'll see what happens from there"

. . . it's hard to believe she's talking about same-sex marriage. What policy or "robust constitutional" conversation can you have with a man who tells all of the American people in response to a secular question that his religious beliefs say that marriage is "something sanctified between a man and a woman"?

The tragedy of this - for both the President and for us - is that he knows better, and we all know that he knows better. He is presiding over the historical turning point, not for gay rights in general, but for marriage in particular, and he is stuck in reverse. The President's opposition is giving support to the very people who hate him as much as they resist us.

It says everything that the most articulate president in my lifetime - on the most controversial issues like race, the Middle East, war, and all the rest - is reduced to verbal sputters and clichés on gay marriage. That's all there is on the other side - on his side; if there were anything reasonable to argue, he'd have done so.

This has to be hard on his own conscience; he has to know that his opposition to equality will stain his legacy. But it is our lives - and the hopes we had - that he is playing with here. And it is decent people like Melody Barnes whose best is being corrupted and tortured to serve the Administration's retrograde cynicism.

Sadly, the President's party has to follow his lead. That's why I had to take the pledge, and I urge others to do so. The President is encouraging a rot in his own party, the same rot of prejudice that is invigorating the worst of the Republicans, and terrifying their best.

That is not what I voted for, and I cannot possibly support it.

Aiding Homophobia?

Conditioning humanitarian aid, including health assistance, should always be a last resort. However, when a country that receives hundreds of millions of dollars of U.S. HIV/AIDS assistance gets busy publicly vilifying homosexuals and even threatening to put them to death, hasn't the last resort been reached?

Charles Francis thinks so. He is an openly gay former member of the President's Advisory Council on HIV/AIDS who thinks it's time to draw a line:

American lawmakers are asked to appropriate billions of dollars through the PEPFAR program to many of the countries now escalating anti-gay rhetoric into a verbal assault with threats to imprison gay Africans and NGO workers. A growing number of PEPFAR countries are considering legislative proposals to criminalize homosexuality with a death penalty, enact bans on homosexual organizations and to imprison homosexual citizens....

This is a critical juncture for PEPFAR before the world community. Will we stand by and let national governments scapegoat a sexual minority for HIV/AIDS while receiving major funding for AIDS relief? Will the U.S. fund radical, anti-gay prevention programs that could become a model for other parliaments and governments?

Read his open letter to the Global AIDS Coordinator here.

Are New Yorkers Stonewalling Their Own Progress?

Twenty years ago, New York's highest court ruled, in Braschi v. Stahl Associates that a same-sex couple could be treated as a "family" under New York's rent control law. This was a landmark decision because at the time same-sex couples had virtually no legal recognition of any kind in New York - or any other state's - law.

I know about this because I helped Tom Coleman do legal research for a brief in Braschi that helped situate gay couples in the broad term "family" as we had just done the prior year in passing the first domestic partnership ordinance in Los Angeles. After the 1989 decision, we had every reason to believe New York would beat California in enacting statewide domestic partnership, and ultimately to marriage.

Two decades later, New York state not only does not offer domestic partnership to its homosexual citizens, it seems to have rejected any compromise other than full marriage rights, and doesn't seem interested in any political middle ground.

I hope they know what they're doing. Perhaps all the news reports are wrong, and they really do have the votes this time for full marriage equality. That would be terrific. Or perhaps they don't want to dilute the issue, keeping the arguments clearly focused on what really matters in the long-term.

But if they can't get marriage, how much longer will they leave New York state's same-sex couples with legal protections not that much different from their counterparts in Mississippi? Even New York City's same-sex couples can only claim domestic partnership rights that that include vendors licenses and visitation in NYC's prisons. One of the most vibrant gay communities in the entire world seems content, in 2009, with fewer legal rights than couples in Hawaii. Or Vermont. Or Maine.

If they pull this off, it'll be a tremendous, and long-overdue victory. But if they don't, they're making it look like the legacy of Stonewall is to do nothing but stonewall.

Maine, Detroit, and the Closet

When I was a "fag" on the junior high playground, getting punched hurt even when I saw it coming. So too with Maine this past week.

Like many, I was dispirited but not surprised when we lost. The rights of minorities (gays especially) generally don't do well when put to a popular vote. And the opposition's central message-that gays want to influence schoolchildren-remains as effective as it is sinister.

The message conjures up the image of gays as child molesters-a myth debunked but never fully extinguished.

A slightly less sinister (but still false) version portrays us as anti-family and anti-morality. Still another falsehood is that we're trying to "recruit."

Then there's the underlying truth that sustains the myth as plausible. Yes, of course marriage equality will affect what children are taught in schools, because if same-sex marriage is legal, they will naturally be taught that it's legal. That it's an option for consenting adults who want it. That women sometimes fall in love with women, and men with men, and live happily ever after.

We should not shrink from saying these things, but we do. No doubt, the ugliness of the sinister versions-not to mention our opponents' penchant for quoting us out of context-makes us nervous about discussing the truthful version. And that's surely one lesson of this loss: the closet is still powerful, and our opponents use it to their advantage.

But we will not go back in the closet again.

We will keep telling our stories. We will keep showing our faces. We will keep getting married, even if-for now-Maine doesn't legally recognize our relationships. We will not go back in the closet again.

And though we've lost this particular battle, we will continue to win the war.

On the same day that Maine voters took away marriage equality, Detroit (where I live) elected an openly gay City Council President. This, in a city that's 84% African-American and where churches exert considerable political influence. The rest of the country hardly noticed, but Detroit defied several stereotypes on Tuesday.

His name is Charles Pugh. A popular newscaster before running for City Council, Pugh was actually endorsed by both the Council of Baptist Pastors and the AME Ministerial Alliance. They knew he was gay and they endorsed him anyway.

One could argue that Pugh was endorsed-and won-because of name recognition. Detroit elects all nine council members at-large, and the top vote getter automatically becomes council president. It's a dumb system in several ways, and in the past it has resulted in famous but incompetent council members-Martha Reeves, of Martha and the Vandellas, leaps to mind. (Incidentally, in this year's primary Reeves was voted out, and in the general election voters overwhelming approved a referendum for council-by-district.)

But even if Pugh's landslide can be attributed to sheer popularity, it sends an encouraging message about the way the world is changing. Being openly gay is no longer an absolute bar to getting public support. And even those who regularly oppose us will sometimes let other factors trump whatever makes us scary otherwise.

Meanwhile, the more they know us, the less scary we become.

It's unfair and unfortunate that we need to work harder than our opponents to win. They win by exploiting fear, which is easy to do when you're in the majority. We win by building relationships-by letting voters know who we really are. That takes time.

So our opponents have a soundbite edge, but we have a long-term advantage. The closet is crumbling.

In the wake of the Maine loss, we will catch our breath and press on. We will continue to live our lives; we will keep speaking our truth. We will stand up in the firm conviction that our love is real, and valuable, and worthy of equal treatment under the law.

Because whatever legal roadblocks they may put in our way, we will never go back in the closet again.

Taking Maine’s Measure

Maybe it was the cold weather. Or perhaps it was the rival protest across the park competing for the attention of passerby. Or maybe it was the oddity of seeing Maggie Gallagher, president of the National Organization for Marriage, sitting smugly on a nearby bench, letting loose a sly smile as she watched the anguished faces of those standing before her.

But these features of the hastily arranged rally yesterday in Washington, D.C.'s Dupont Circle - the focus for most of the city's earnest protests - just exacerbated what was already a depressing moment for gay rights this week, when Maine voters chose to repeal the state's same-sex marriage law on Tuesday. There was, predictably, a great deal of anger, including the occasional f bomb. But the assembled Washingtonians were well behaved; certainly to the extent that Gallagher could feel safe sitting quietly by herself to watch the proceedings. So much for her complaints, registered shrilly and frequently in the wake of the success of Proposition 8 last year, that gay rights activists physically "intimidate" her and other opponents of marriage equality. If there was a horde of angry, violent lesbians out for her head, they were nowhere to be found that chilly October evening.

But perhaps the most disheartening, and telling, aspect of Tuesday's loss was the rude awakening offered by President Barack Obama's silence. In December of last year, responding to complaints over his selection of the controversial Pastor Rick Warren to deliver the invocation at his inauguration, Obama pledged to be "a fierce advocate for gay and lesbian Americans." It was a promise he had made repeatedly on the campaign trail, to the extent that he raised more money from gay donors than any other presidential candidate in American history. Yet that much-ballyhooed advocacy was nowhere in sight these past few months, as those hoping to maintain Maine's legislatively enacted law permitting gay marriage fought tooth and nail to keep it on the books.

That silence was shared by Obama's former campaign organization, Organizing for America, since subsumed by the Democratic National Committee. As blogger John Aravosis discovered, OFA did not mention the initiative in any of its literature or e-mails sent out to its supporters in Maine. Never mind the president - as for the White House, it could only bring itself around to issuing a halfhearted statement after The Advocate's indefatigable Kerry Eleveld prodded them into offering some sort of explanation of where they stood. That mealymouthed statement, reiterating the president's logically untenable opposition to both gay marriage and ballot initiatives banning it, did not even mention Maine by name, nor did it include any reference to a similar battle in Washington state, where voters were given the opportunity to vote to uphold or repeal a law giving expanded domestic-partnership benefits to gay couples. That measure fortunately passed - the first time that state-level benefits have been granted to gays by popular vote - no thanks due, however, to the "fierce advocate" in the White House.

But Maine is where marriage was up for consideration, and it was there that the real gay rights battle of the year transpired. Maine is in solid blue New England territory, and given the recent marriage victories in Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire, and Vermont, many predicted - hubristically - that similar fortune would befall them in the Pine Tree State.

That it did not is doubly depressing.

Still, the gloating by the likes of Gallagher will be short-lived. Yesterday, she told The New York Times, "Maine is one of the most secular states in the nation. It's socially liberal. They had a three-year head start to build their organization, and they outspent us two to one. If they can't win there, it really does tell you the majority of Americans are not on board with this gay marriage thing."

Gallagher may be right in her last assertion, but the number of voters opposing gay marriage declines with each successive poll, and all the data shows support for gay marriage trending higher with younger voters. According to census projections, Maine has the third-largest percentage of voters over the age of 65. Not only do these voters represent a critical mass of people who will be inclined to oppose gay marriage, they also will turn out to vote in higher numbers than younger citizens.

Such observations will not offer much consolation to the gay couples in Maine who saw such a basic civil right snatched from them by their fellow citizens. Nor will it provide succor to the nationwide advocates of marriage equality, gay and straight alike, who have banked so much on a state-by-state strategy. In the wake of the Maine defeat, many are beginning to question the wisdom of that approach and are looking with newfound hope to the federal lawsuit filed by superstar lawyers David Boies and Ted Olson challenging the legality of Proposition 8.

Bringing such a case to the Supreme Court is a risky plan that could reap massive dividends if it succeeds or tragic consequences if it fails. And while the local strategy may not have worked this time in Maine, it has worked thus far in several other states, and the results will only get better with time. Rest assured that the day will soon come when Maggie Gallagher won't be sitting quite so contentedly, smiling at the people whose rights she's spent so much effort to strip away.

Open—But Invisible

No one can tell my girlfriend is gay.

An example: About two years ago, Jenny and a gay male friend went to San Francisco in June. They were excited to celebrate Pride.

But first they were hungry, so they approached a short gay guy wearing leather. "Anyplace around here we can get Mexican food?" Jenny asked.

The man looked them up and down and then said with a condescending sigh, "The Mexican neighborhood is a few blocks over. This is the Castro. I just want to let you know that there will be a lot of people here, because there's a thing happening called Gay Pride, so if you really want to stay in the neighborhood, there will be long waits." Jenny and her friend stared at him in disbelief.

"I am a lesbian standing with a gay guy in the Castro," Jenny said to me later. "And even then, no one knows I'm gay."

I think this is funny, because to me Jenny is obviously gay. Sure, she keeps her curly hair long. She wears makeup. But she tends to gesture like a boy, she talks low in her throat and her nails are short. In these post-'L' Word glamour lesbian days, those should be all the cues another gay person needs.

But no.

Not even gay people can tell that Jenny is gay, and it makes her sad.

"How can you be part of a community if no one can see you?" she asks.

Humans are a tribal animal, and if you're gay, the LGBTcommunity is your tribe. We want other gay people to recognize us, because it makes us feel less alone. It makes us feel like part of something.

"Also, being gay is more fun," Jenny says.

Back in the early '90s era of identity politics, recognition was easy. We wore rainbow rings around our necks, pink and black triangles in our ears, shirts with slogans like "No one knows I'm a lesbian" on our torsos.

When we came out, lesbians automatically cut their hair and stopped wearing makeup completely.

But as the movement has gotten older, lesbians - and gay men, too - have stopped conforming to a narrow (if highly recognizable) stereotype and instead have found ways to be both gay and deeply ourselves. We now know that if we like the feeling of long hair against our shoulders, if we like the way our eyes look when rimmed with mascara, if we like the swish of skirts against our knees or the brisk click of heels, then that's OK.

We can be butch all the time, sometimes or never. Whatever we choose to wear, we're still lesbians.

But while society has gradually grown more accustomed to the idea that gay people can be flamboyant or perfectly ordinary, we in the gay community don't always recognize our more subtle brothers and sisters on the street. We assume heterosexuality. Even in our own neighborhoods and our own shops.

Yesterday, Jenny walked into a cafe. "Feminist Salads" was chalked on the menu board. Ani DiFranco growled over the sound system. And the woman behind the counter, pierced and short-haired, was so clearly lesbian she could have been wearing a name-tag.

"I kept joking with her and talking to her, wanting her to know I was gay without actually saying, 'Hey, I'm gay!' or 'Hey, I have a girlfriend at home!'" Jenny told me later.

"I looked at her and felt a sense of connection - and I wanted her to have that sense of connection, too. But of course she didn't."

So Jenny left, feeling more isolated than if the barista had been straight. Because the woman didn't see her.

Another Video Against Same-Sex Marriage Whose Underlying Facts Will Be Ignored

Here's a video I'm afraid we'll be seeing more of - a young man from Massachusetts fired from his job for objecting to a coworker's announcement that she was going to marry her same-sex partner.

The key legal issue (like that matters) is whether he is correct that she was harassing him throughout the day, or whether he is offering a self-serving version of events. Either could be true. I'm skeptical that his employer would have fired him for a single incident like this on a single day, but those are questions to be investigated (not like anyone will care). He could be right that the coworker was taunting him.

But two things about the video jumped out at me. First, and overwhelmingly, I was struck by how immediately his joy at a coworker's happiness turned into sour judgementalism. Are his religious beliefs really so harsh that they have this effect on his normal human emotions, ecstatic for his co-worker one moment, and disgusted the next? Is it the role of religion to transform the joy we feel for other people into an emotional menace?

Second, his repeated argument in the first two-thirds of the tape warning people in other states about how they, too, could suffer this kind of joy-deficit if their state passes same-sex marriage completely dissolves before our eyes when he intently criticizes the employee training tape about expressing opposition to someone of the same-sex making a pass at you. If that's actually what the tape says (and this seriously undercuts his credibility, in my eyes - I honestly can't imagine this not falling under the rubric of sexual harassment, at least if it were repeated) then his concern about gay marriage laws is the smallest part of his concern. As with so many other arguments purporting to be about same-sex marriage, the real concern he has is with open homosexuals in the workplace he shares with them. And if he thinks stopping gay marriage will halt that, too, he has another think coming.

Again, I doubt any of this will actually matter as the tape make the rounds of the right wing sites. But I couldn't help noticing.

Or How About We Call GLAAD And Tell Them To Lighten Up Instead?

GLAAD is encouraging people to call Comedy Central to whine about Wednesday's hilarious episode of South Park. The episode revolves around the boys changing the definition of the word "fag" to refer to irritating Harley drivers.

Not only does the episode confer a valuable public service by drawing attention to the menace posed by attention-seeking jerks who ride without mufflers, it also lets kids know that gay people are O.K., but GLAAD is all in a tizzy because the episode drops the f-bomb about a zillion times.

GLAAD even goes so far as to suggest that the cavalier use of the word "fag" in a gay-positive way in a comedy show can lead to kids killing themselves:

this year, an 11-year-old Massachusetts student named Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover, unable to endure the unrelenting anti-gay bullying and name-calling he experienced at school, committed suicide

Seriously? They are going there? Are they really suggesting that there is no difference between a joke about the word "fag" and tormenting a child in school?

So, for my friends at GLAAD, let me offer some desperately needed perspective. Using the word "retard" in a joke is crass, and possibly funny. Calling a kid with Down's Syndrome "retard" is cruel and savage. Using the word "bitch" while singing along to a rap song in your Toyota is somewhat pathetic, but harmless. Calling your wife "bitch" on a daily basis means you are a vicious jerk. It's called context, people.

Rare Bipartisan Agreement

This story about the last-minute Democratic National Committee emails to Maine voters begging them to help out Jon Corzine in New Jersey(!), and failing to mention the referendum in their own state is, I'm afraid, a cautionary tale about the naivete (or just wishful thinking) of minority groups who depend on a single party.

Of course the DNC is going to want to help their party members, and Jon Corzine was Exhibit A of those in need; he couldn't have been more pathetic if he'd been holding a sign saying "Will Govern For Food."

In contrast, Question 1 - and, in, fact, our fundamental legal equality - was and is not a Democratic Party issue, no matter how much we try to will that into being. No matter the odds, no matter the long-term harm (and this election did us some very serious long-term harm), gay marriage in particular is electoral Kryptonite. When our marital rights are on the ballot we can count on Democrats for a laurel and hearty handshake, and a nervously articulated prior commitment elsewhere.

Why we believe otherwise is a mystery. The Democratic Party, and the President, himself, made it very clear that when it comes to elections about our rights, we're on our own. Which is not to say Democrats are our enemy, or anywhere near as harmful to our equality as the near-death wing of what was once the Republican Party. We may very well be able to squeeze some bills out of Congress, like ENDA, and that's not anything we could expect from the other party.

But on gay marriage, both parties are in perfect alignment -- with each other, and with the religious right -- wishing (and praying) it would go away.

“This Gay Marriage Thing” — Maggie Gallagher

A lot of people are pondering the state of gay marriage in the wake of our loss in Maine. But I think Tuesday's election results should get us all thinking about a more important, and much deeper storyline: the state of anti-gay prejudice. The full results of the off-off-year election show that after literally centuries of predominance, anti-gay prejudice is seeing its final days.

The loss in Maine actually makes that point. While the conventional wisdom characterizes it as a "stinging setback for the national gay rights movement" - and that's from our friends at the NY Times -- that's correct only if you think gay rights equals marriage. Marriage is the only issue we lose any more, so of course it presents a tantalizing story for the mainstream press, who get to sympathize with us while just doing their job reporting the news of our incomprehensible political impotence.

But on Tuesday in barely noticed elections elsewhere in the country, we won voter approval of (1) domestic partnerships in Washington; (2) an anti-discrimination ordinance in Kalamazoo; (3) an openly gay city council president in Detroit; and (4) an openly lesbian mayoral candidate in Houston. That seems to say something about the state of anti-gay prejudice in this country.

The Kalamazoo election was particularly telling and anachronistic; it's something we just don't see much of any more, an attempt to take away simple non-discrimination protection. And nearly 62% of voters chose to keep it in place. That's some evidence of how deeply into the mainstream of this country's politics gay acceptance has moved. Somehow, I'm not thinking Kalamazoo's gay community is feeling a stinging setback.

Marriage is not just an outlier, it is the only outlier. The fringe of the right will complain about any legal protections for lesbians and gay men, but they can't put together a majority on any issue except for full marital equality. An enormous majority of Americans even support repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, though political cowardice on that issue still lingers in Congress -- the same cowardice that got us the policy in the first place.

This chart shows that more than a majority in virtually every state, including the ones with the most anti-gay sentiment, supports employment and housing protection, hate crimes laws and health benefits for homosexuals. The trailing issue in all states is always marriage, with majority-plus support in only six states.

In short, these are hard times for homophobes. That's why gay marriage is such a satisfying issue for the ones who are left. It is the only issue where they can rouse up enough residual bias against gays among otherwise fair-minded people to win an election.

And the importance of that last word cannot be overemphasized. It is direct elections where anti-gay prejudice about marriage can best be exploited. This may be the most toxic consequence of Maine. It is a warning shot to legislatures to avoid exercising their best judgment about fairness for gay citizens. The anti-gay bias that short-circuits rational debate in the electorate at large will make legislative action futile, so don't even bother to try.

As I argued before, I would like nothing better than to have a full discussion among the electorate on the merits (or flaws) of the public policy issue of gay marriage, but neither Maine nor California took advantage of that opportunity; at the least, it was offered by one side, but was of little interest in the other side's strategy. The anti-marriage campaigns were about anything but gay marriage.

If there's any doubt about that, compare the arguments in these campaigns to the arguments the right makes in court when trying to defend exclusionary marriage laws. No responsible lawyer could argue to a court (without worrying about sanctions) that gay marriage will force schools to teach children about homosexuality in the second grade, nor can a lawyer try to scare a court with images of kids reading books like King and King. Lawyers have to focus on the issue before them in their briefs and arguments in court, because courts are forced to assess the rationality of the arguments before them, and have to explain themselves in written opinions. There is no room in court for the political slurs that make up anti-gay marriage electoral campaigns. The best the right can do in court is arguing about procreation, deference to the legislative branch (an argument I wouldn't expect them to make in the future -- at least not with a straight face) and the will of the people. Not a word about second graders.

That enormous distance between the arguments made to courts about gay marriage and the obfuscations used in political campaigns says a great deal. I do not ever expect to have the kind of thoughtful discussion in public that courts are required to have. But, the very fact we can't have a public discussion about gay marriage when gay marriage is the issue might suggest, to reasonable people, that there may be something underlying the anti-marriage forces besides a desire to do what's best for the public weal and what's fair for a minority. Contra Rod Dreher and others, 31 wrongs do not make a right.

Maine was an extremely hard loss. But Washington looks to be a solid victory, and Kalamazoo was a blow-out. The gay rights movement is hardly on the ropes in this country, and our opponents should be taking little comfort from their ability to deny us this one right.