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 beenâ¦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.