Transgender Day…and Gays

March 31 is Transgender Day of Visibility. I'm supposed to participate in a panel that day. I'm a bit apprehensive.

Like many gay people, I tend to tiptoe around transgender issues. This surprises some straight people I know. They say, "But as a GLBT person yourself…"

But I'm not a GLBT person. I'm a G person. (Nobody is a GLBT person. You get two letters at most, and that's only if one of them is T.)

One of my earliest experiences with the transgender community involved an angry trans woman standing up after one of my lectures in the mid-90's.

"You've talked for an hour about gay and lesbian issues," she griped, "but you've said nothing about ME. An hour-long lecture and not a word about me."

I remember at the time not knowing quite how to respond. I figured she was referring to transgender issues, because I was pretty sure she was trans. She was about 6'2", and to put it bluntly, she had man-hands.

But I didn't want to say, "Oh, you're transgender." Because if I said, "Oh, you're transgender," I might come across as saying, "Oh, you're transgender…

"…and not very convincing at it."

Isn't it rude to guess? To me, it's like trying to figure out if someone you know is pregnant, or just getting fat. Better to wait until she brings it up.

Of course, sometimes waiting is not an option, such as when a person's gender presentation is ambiguous and you need to refer to "him" or "her." You can only switch to the plural "they" for so long before it becomes obvious that you're avoiding gendered pronouns. I actually had this problem once with a student, whose name was as gender-ambiguous as [his? her? their?] clothing. Turns out she was a MTF who deliberately skated the line as "genderqueer"-something I discovered only when other students filled me in. But absent such informants, how does one politely ask?

Regarding my angry questioner, though, I had no such doubts-just doubts about how to respond to her "nothing about me" complaint.

At the time, I think I said something like "I don't know you, so how can I talk about you?" That was a reasonable answer then. But what about now?

The truth is I still hardly ever talk or write about transgender issues. That's partly because I'm no expert on them. There are only so many minutes in an hour (or lines in a column), and you can't cover everything.

But to be frank, it's also partly because I'm nervous about offending people whom society has already hurt enough. It's a touchy subject, and like many touchy subjects, it's often easier for those of us without a direct stake in it simply to avoid it.

And that's probably as good a reason for Transgender Day of Visibility as any. Our discomfort around the issue-I know I'm not alone in this-means that we've got some learning to do. Bravo to those trans people willing to come out and teach us.

Some gay people wonder why we get lumped with the transgender community at all. Sexual orientation is one thing, they say, and gender identity is another.

That's true as far as it goes, and perhaps it's better to talk about our overlapping communitieS than about a single GLBT community.

Still, the alliance makes sense insofar as both (overlapping) groups suffer from rigid social expectations about sex and gender. Compare "If you're born biologically male, you should grow up to be a man" with "If you're born biologically male, you should grow up to love a woman." The similarities between the two inferences seem to outweigh the differences.

Then there are those who question whether linking GLB to T might slow down GLB political progress, insofar as society has a harder time with trans issues than sexual- orientation issues.

Even if you find those who raise such questions insensitive, it's hard to argue that they're being irrational. In general, society does have a harder time with trans people than gay, lesbian, or bisexual people, which is one reason why the trans community needs and deserves our support.

The bottom line is that there are a lot of us who could benefit from frank and open dialogue about all of these issues. Transgender Day of Visibility is an important step in that direction, and gays-and everyone else-should support it.

Pay for Performance?

The Washington Blade's annual look at compensation paid to, as they term it, "leaders of the LGBT rights movement," is always an interesting read. But the real issue isn't just the level of pay; I agree that, in general, CEOs of nonprofits should earn what the competitive market deems is fair. The broader, and far more important question, is the same one that's being asked of private-sector CEOs these days - does the level of their individual performance this past year still entitle them to receive what would otherwise by deemed fair compensation for their positions? Or should there by some "clawback" (i.e., recouping promised compensation in light of poor performance) for these executives as well?

Given the devastatingly bad leadership shown on the part of some, particularly as regards the debacle of California's Proposition 8, a campaign mismanaged to an extraordinary degree, should Lorri Jean of the LA Center still be getting $327,000? (The Advocate, in its "Anatomy of a Failed Campaign," called her one of "the small clique of California LGBT leaders" who were in charge of directing, or misdirecting, opposition to the initative.) Should Joe Solmonese, under whose management the bulk of HRC's efforts went to getting out the vote for Obama instead of fighting the three statewide anti-gay marriage initiatives that were passed, be receiving $338,400? Or would it be more just to direct their way some of the same outrage over the bonuses being paid to executives who ran their companies into the ground?

Straight Debate

An excellent and enlightening discussion has broken out over gay marriage between Rod Dreher at Beliefnet and Damon Linker at TNR. (In order, the posts are here, here, here, here, and here) Andrew Sullivan weighs in at length, and does a lot of the heavy lifting to add a gay perspective to the discussion. There are only three additional points I want to add.

First, and most obviously (and therefore most in need of being pointed out) this is a debate between two heterosexual men about gay equality. That, by itself, is important. Women have historically been more comfortable discussing homosexuality than straight men, but that seems to be changing for the better. Some of the debate focuses on Linker's characterization of Dreher as having a "fixation" on homosexuality. This is unfortunate because it is a distraction about a personal and subjective matter. I am happy to set aside that issue and accept that Dreher simply wants to engage the debate, and good for him. However, it is certainly worth noting, as Dreher does on his two primary posts, that (whatever his own feelings) his comments section heats up whenever he mentions "anything related to homosexuality." Why does Dreher need to warn his commenters (in bold): "Please watch how you discuss and debate this topic in the comboxes." That's not Dreher's "fixation,' but it's certainly not unusual, and if it doesn't make Linker's point, it makes some point worth thinking about.

Second, Dreher makes a not uncommon argument that gay supporters are being unfair to opponents:

"By casting the ordinary defense of normative Christian doctrine about homosexual relations as though it were a sort of mental illness, the pro-SSM side engages the issue not in a fair-minded discussion and debate about legitimate issues related to gay marriage and the normalization of homosexuality in our society, but as an ideological war to be won by any means necessary. Any critique of the pro-SSM side is to be treated as a sign of pathology."

This language should ring a bell for those of us who are gay, something heterosexuals might miss. In fact, for many decades, homosexuality was not just a rhetorical "sort of mental illness" or a mere "sign of pathology," it was mental illness and pathology itself. Lesbians and gay men were put in actual mental institutions, were subjected to forced "cures" for their disease. When those who argue against gay equality are subject to that kind of action, Dreher's complaint will ring a little less ironically - and a little less hollow.

Finally, Dreher makes the point that:

"This stuff matters. It matters a lot. If you are a gay person, you know how much it matters to you. Why should anybody be surprised that it matters to traditional Christians, and for reasons that go far beyond any supposed anti-gay animus?"

There is, of course, a difference between how this matters to gay people and how it matters to traditional Christians. It matters to gay people because the secular law treats us differently - provides us both fewer rights and in many cases, none at all for our relationships - than heterosexuals take for granted. It matters to traditional Christians, not because they are denied anything, but because civil equality is a different rule than their sacred texts seem to support. There is, of course, dispute even among Christians about that, which is why Dreher has to qualify "Christian." But even if this view of scripture were universal, or (as in the Catholic hierarchy), authoritatively defined by a single leader, Americans live in a pluralistic nation of motley religious and irreligious views. Traditional Christians have every right to make whatever case they believe, but have to know that arguments from religious authority will only go so far in a debate about the civil law.

It is the collapse of the secular arguments against gay equality, one by one, that has left religious arguments standing alone. The fact that "traditional" Christians have to identify themselves now reveals they are appealing, not to "religion," but to a particular approach to religion that is, itself, part of America's religious pluralism. After all, Dreher first weighed in on this issue in response to a post at Andrew Sullivan's site about how a gay man's reference to his husband at their Catholic parish was accepted as unremarkable.

The Laughing Cure

University of Chicago students recently showed us how protests against hate should be done.

When the Westboro Baptist Church - the cult-like organization led by Fred Phelps - trooped to campus to declare Obama the anti-Christ (he taught at the law school), they were carrying their usual array of hateful signs. These, of course, included the slogan that seems to be their favorite: God Hates Fags.

Now, there's no arguing with Fred Phelps or his family. People have tried various tactics - yelling back; talking respectfully; being aggressively friendly and saying things like, "God loves me, but God bless you!"; singing songs like "We Shall Overcome"; and, one of my favorites, standing in front of them with giant angel wings so that no one can see their rabid posturing. When the Westboro Church came to Harvard, for example, signs said "Cambridge Pride," and "Jesus loves me, this I know - for God made me so."

But Chicago students tried something else. Making fun of the Phelpses.

When the Phelps family arrived, they were greeted with a party. Students roasted 'smores. There were dance and music performances. Best of all, students carried signs their own signs. But instead of saying things like, "We're Here, We're Queer," or "No More Hate," they poked smart fun. "God Hates Figs," some posters and handouts said (and they included real Biblical references to prove their point); "God hates the new Facebook," said another. And my favorite: "Cthulhu hates chordates."

This is very U of C. I worked at the university for years, and I was always struck by their wry approach to fun. Other colleges have drunken galas; Chicago has a scavenger hunt that includes math problems and classical references.

When I heard about the Chicago protest - and saw pictures that included faculty and staff members I worked with - I was very proud.

Especially since Chicago is not Berkely. It is one of America's more conservative Universities, even among the undergraduate population.

Mocking hate has a long history in the gay community. Camp, drag queens, the radical cheerleaders, and the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence are all ways that we have fought back against our own oppression using sly humor.

What makes this new is that it wasn't just gay and lesbian students who were protesting - it was the entire campus. It was straight students. Better, it included straight fraternity boys. One frat hung a banner declaring "Straight Huggin" - and half-naked men danced outside to the song "I'm Coming Out."

The message: People who hate gays are ridiculous.

Chicago was shaming the Phelps family.

And this marks a sea change.

It used to be that gays and lesbians were shamed for being homosexual. Now, straight people who actively and loudly detest gays and lesbians are being shamed as being narrow-minded and socially inappropriate.

We saw this with the backlash over the Proposition 8 vote, when there were boycotts against businesses that had given money to the campaign to ban gay marriage. It was interesting to me that we didn't hear boycotts against businesses who supported gay marriage.

This new shaming of the anti-gay right doesn't mean that we will get everything we want. It will still be a fight to overturn the gay military ban. It will be a fight to keep gay Americans and their foreign partners together. It will be a fight to allow gay men to give blood, and to keep employers from firing employees because they are gay - and most of all, it will be a fight to get the next state to give gay marriage a chance.

But it's one more sign of profound cultural change. And we can thank the University of Chicago for that.

Come out, come out. . . except the homosexuals — you guys stay in

The U.S. Census is gearing up a monumental effort to make sure minorities are counted in 2010.

But that effort will not apply to homosexuals. As I argued in The Pretenders, the Census folks, far from seeking us out, are doing all they can to make sure we are not counted -- at least not our married couples.

And that is a very clear public policy choice. The government wants, very much, to know how many racial and ethnic minority members we have, so it can make sure their concerns are being addressed. But the government does not want to know how many same-sex couples there are, which frustrates the ability to have our concerns addressed.

The Census is a very good way of discerning what the government wants to know, and what the government wants to keep hidden. And it is up to us to keep asking why they have an interest in keeping the number of our publicly acknowledged relationships invisible.

Conscientious objections

When Jonathan says the Brookings Institution panel was A Great Debate, he isn't kidding. Jon and David Blankenhorn articulated the philosophical change in style they are aiming for: a discussion that pits two good things against one another (in Blankenhorn's words) rather than one about bigots against perverts (Jon).

If that were all that was said, the debate would have been worth everyone's time.

But another theme emerged, and it will be the crux of the political problem if the compromise gets any takers -- as I hope it will. In order to get the federal government to accept state laws recognizing same-sex couples, states would have to enact robust religious conscience laws making clear that religious organizations would be protected against lawsuits forcing them to recognize same-sex relationships.

But "conscience" is not an organizational attribute, it is a personal one, and the compromise would apparently have to stretch far enough to reach individuals. Everyone agrees the government may not intrude in the sacramental role of religious organizations, but what about religious individuals who function in the civil realm? They claim that their religious beliefs against same-sex marriage would prohibit them from performing their non-religious duties, and want protection for that as well - and the way I read the compromise, it would also include protection for these individuals.

This is where the compromise becomes most pointed. Justices of the Peace work for the state, not the church, yet some have refused to issue licenses to same-sex couples because they have religious objections. In the debate, Professor Robin Wilson discussed the dilemma when a same-sex couple faces a civil servant who refuses to perform the civil ceremony prescribed by the state. There are normally other JPs available, and as with some pharmacists who refuse to perform their job of dispensing contraceptives for religious reasons, as long as the customers are served by someone, all needs can be met - though participants on both sides will have been forced to face, for a bit, the other side's arguments and sensitivities.

But it's important to remember that this accommodation is not a constitutional matter. The constitution does not require states to go this far in accommodating individual religious beliefs. That was established in a 1990 Supreme Court decision, Employment Division v. Smith, which upheld a state law that criminalized drug use, and a prosecution of Native Americans who ingested peyote in a religious practice. If the constitution required a general religious exemption from laws that are generally applicable to everyone, the court reasoned, then each religious believer could become a law unto himself, with a personal veto over any legal obligations he determined were offensive.

The opinion was written by Justice Antonin Scalia, an energetic proponent of religious freedom as a constitutional right, but also a man who's savvy to how people can abuse the courts.

If states have to accommodate even individual religious beliefs against gay marriage, we will need to be wary of the same sort of abuse Scalia was concerned with in Smith. But that is no reason not to try.

Why Only Two?

Recent discussions of various civil-union proposals have revived some familiar questions, including "Why limit such recognition to couples, as opposed to larger groups?" and "Why limit it to romantic/sexual couples, as opposed to other interdependent relationships?"

Such questions come from various quarters, including both friends and foes of marriage equality. Although they're sometimes offered as "gotcha" challenges, they deserve serious reflection.

I was mulling them over recently when two events occurred that hinted at an answer.

The first was a phone call from my home-security monitoring company about a false alarm I triggered with smoke from a minor kitchen disaster.

"While we have you on the phone," the operator suggested, "can we update your emergency numbers?"

"Sure," I said, remembering that some of my listed neighbors had eliminated their land lines.

After going through the numbers, she said, "So, you've given me your community patrol number, and numbers for Scott, Sarah, and Mike-all neighbors. But this Mark person-what's your relationship to him?"

"He's my partner."

"Um, roommate?"

"No," I replied, "partner."

"I don't have a box for 'partner,'" she retorted. "I have a box for 'roommate.'"

"Fine," I said, "roommate." Then I hastily hung up and returned to the kitchen, since I didn't want my "roommate" to come home to a burned dinner. (Later, I regretted not asking for, and insisting on, the box for "husband.")

The second event occurred not long afterward, when my high school called asking for a donation for their "Torch Fund" endowment.

Some background: I attended Chaminade, an all-boys Catholic prep school on Long Island. For years I notified them of my various milestones for their newsletter, and for years they declined to publish anything gay-related-publications, awards, whatever-despite their regular listings of the most insipid details of my classmates' lives.

So now, whenever they ask me for money, I politely tell them where they can stick their Torch. I did so again this time.

"I understand," the caller replied. "But while I have you on the phone, let me update your records…"

Here we go again, I thought.

Eventually she came to, "Any update in your marital status? Can we list a spouse?"

"Well, you CAN," I responded testily, "but I suspect you won't. My spouse's name is Mark."

"Why not?" she replied, seeming unfazed. "And his last name?"

I doubt his listing will stand long. But what interested me was this: here was someone representing my conservative high school, and she had a box-in her mind, anyway-for my same-sex spouse.

For all I know, she might be a paid solicitor with no other connection to the school. But she illustrates a significant cultural shift toward recognizing the reality of gay and lesbian lives.

The reality is this: like our straight counterparts, we tend to fall in love, pair off and settle down. It's not for everyone, but it's a significant enough pattern to merit acknowledgement.

And that's at least the germ of an answer to the questions raised above.

Why do we give special legal recognition to romantic pair-bonds? We do so because they're a significant-and very common-human category, for straights and gays alike. They benefit individuals and society in palpable ways-ways that, on average, "roommates" and most other groupings can't match.

To put it simply, we recognize them because it makes sense for the law to recognize common and valuable ways that people organize their lives.

Of course, there are other significant human relationships. Some of these, like blood ties, the law already acknowledges. Others (like polygamy) pose serious social costs.

Still others may deserve more legal recognition than they currently receive, or may be dealt with on a case-by-case basis. (I doubt that we need to change marriage or civil-union law to accommodate unrelated cohabitating spinsters, for example.)

But none of these other unrecognized relationships holds a candle to same-sex pair-bonds when it comes to widespread mismatch between the social reality and the legal recognition.

Which brings me back to Mark. Mark is not just some dude I share expenses with. He's the person I've committed my life to, for better or for worse, 'til death do us part. We exchanged such vows publicly, although the law still views us as strangers.

In short, he is-whether the law or our home-security company recognizes it-my spouse.

We fall in love, we pair off, we build lives together. The law may be a blunt instrument, but it need not be so blunt as to call that "roommates."

Clock Ticking on Democrats’ Hegemony

There are signs that, as is usual in non-presidential year congressional elections, the party in power (the Democrats) are headed toward losing a substantial number of seats in 2010. Respected pollster Charles Cook provides this analysis.

Given the Democrats' misdirected spending binge, yielding trillion dollar deficits as far as the eye can see, and their bumbling efforts to fix the nation's banking crisis, it's likely the GOP could retake the House and pick up several seats in the Senate, robbing the Democrats of their near filibuster-proof super-majority.

Which is just to say, this may be a quickly passing moment when the Democrats have near-supreme power with the White House and Congress. If we are ever going to get the party that gay people have chosen to fund and support to do anything substantial on our behalf - with repealing don't ask, don't tell and the Defense of Marriage Act at the top of the legal-equality agenda - now is the time.

As we get closer to 2010, the Democrats are going to get increasingly hesitant to raise our issues. This is it; and if "it" doesn't happen, that means the Democrats get to fundraise on our issues for years to come, while we get to write them checks while listening to campaign rhetoric about how inclusive they are.

More. In the comments, "avee" responds to "BoBN" thusly:

BobN: For folks who constantly complain about the "trough" of Democrat-led government, you sure complain loudly when the slop isn't doled out pronto!

Avee: No, Bob, I'm not asking for billions, er, trillions in taxpayers' money; just equal rights under the law. See, I'm not a Democrat. Just asking for equal legal rights.

A Great Debate

Can gay-marriage proponents and religious conservatives strike a bargain? David Blankenhorn and I proposed federal civil unions with a religious opt-out last month in a New York Times article, and recently we got a chance to try it out at a Brookings Institution panel.

Representatives of the Human Rights Campaign and the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations didn't sign on the dotted line (not that they were expected to). But neither did they slam the door. And the give-and-take over the meaning of civil rights and the limits of compromise was fascinating. Listen to an audio podcast or read a transcript here.

Mainline Protestants Accept Gays

This just in* from Pew: 56 percent of mainline Protestants think homosexuality should be accepted. That's Episcopalians/Anglicans, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians. And here's a pleasant surprise: 40 percent of Baptists.

To be sure, evangelical acceptance remains low, at 26 percent. But the days of the cobra-mongoose relationship between Christianity and homosexuality are ending faster than even many of us appreciate.

* Actually, it's 2007 data. What would the numbers look like today?