The New Conservatives

Every year toward the end of June, gay pride time, we are treated to another round of reminiscences about the good old radical days of gay liberation, laced with resentment about how we've now betrayed some founding principles. Reading these essays is like walking into a home full of bean-bag chairs and shag carpeting. It's memorable in its way, but you don't want to live there.

In this 40th year after the riot at the Stonewall Inn, the most prominent of these nostalgists is long-time activist Peter Tatchell in Britain, who wites in The Guardian about his experiences in the Gay Liberation Front (GLF):

Our vision was a new sexual democracy, without homophobia and misogyny. Erotic shame and guilt would be banished, together with socially enforced monogamy and male and female gender roles. There would be sexual freedom and human rights for everyone - queer and straight. Our message was "innovate, don't assimilate".

GLF never called for equality. The demand was liberation. We wanted to change society, not conform to it. . . .

In the 40 years since Stonewall and GLF, there has been a massive retreat from that radical vision. Most LGBT ­people no longer question the values, laws and institutions of society. They are content to settle for equal rights within the status quo. On the age of consent, the LGBT movement accepted equality at 16, ignoring the criminalisation of younger gay and straight people. Don't the under-16s have sexual human rights too? Equality has not helped them. All they got was equal injustice.

Whereas GLF saw marriage and the family as a patriarchal prison for women, gay people and children, today the LGBT movement uncritically champions same-sex marriage and families. It has embraced traditional hetero­sexual aspirations lock stock and barrel. How ironic. While straight couples are deserting marriage, same-sexers are rushing to embrace it: witness the current legal fight in California for the right to marry. Are queers the new conservatives, the 21st-century suburbanites?

There's hardly ever been a more succinct statement of the way the gay civil rights movement has changed -- I would say matured -- over the past 40 years. Stripped of the pejoratives, Tatchell's essay accurately describes the main differences. Witness the struggle to serve in the military, to join the Boy Scouts, and most of all, to marry. This is a way of saying, Yes, many of us do accept the fundamental values, laws, and institutions of our society. Equality of rights and obligations within those institutions is ennobling, not mindless. We doubt that all innovation is good. We're not trying to abolish "gender" or monogamy. There is an appropriate age threshold for sexual consent. We think "assimilation" is just a patronizing way to describe living our lives without conforming to your romantic notions of queerness. Sexual freedom? Anybody with an apartment key has that.

And yes, we want marriage. Marriage is not a "patriarchal prison" for our partners and children. It is freedom from a queer prison of perpetual grievance and mythologized otherness. It is getting off the tiger's back of adolescence and accepting responsibilities for families and communities.

Tatchell and his generation of radical liberationists deserve our eternal gratitude for their courage and their success. Tatchell himself has been fearless in his pursuit of, whether he would say so or not, equality for gays and lesbians. The liberationists who gave us Stonewall hastened us down a path (already begun long before them) that has brought us to the edge of unprecedented respect and acceptance.

But they do not deserve our uncritical acceptance of their values or goals. We are their children but we've grown up and moved out of the house. They do not own the movement, they do not censor its messages or license its membership, and they are not gatekeepers of its future.

The Spark We Needed

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.

Obama’s No-Show

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.

Thomas F. Coleman: One of the Pioneers

I've realized that my references to Thomas F. Coleman may need some background. Because I've known Tom since the 1980s, in my mind he's part of the context of the gay rights movement. But few people know the long list of his accomplishments. So I'll be doing a few posts that I hope will capture at least some of the key roles Tom has played in getting us to where we are today. It is easy to forget - or for younger people, not to even know - that charges of "judicial activism" and bigotry by gays against Christians are fairly new political tactics. Not that long ago, judges and the police were really part of the problem, and the dominant prejudice against homosexuals was so complete that many lesbians and gay men accepted it themselves. Tom is one of the people who helped us turn that around.

Tom moved to Los Angeles from Detroit at about the same time the Stonewall Riots were taking place in New York - which is to say, about two years after the Black Cat riots took place in a similar bar in Los Angeles, which helped prompt the creation of The Advocate.

He attended L.A.'s Loyola Law School and helped form one of the first gay law student groups in 1972 - with both formal recognition by the school and student group funding. To give you some sense of the era, Tom attended the Ninth Circuit's ABA meeting that summer, and, after much soul searching and anxiety, asked a fellow male student to dance at a social event - to turned heads and considerable gawking.

Gay men were, at the time, still being arrested by the police in L.A. at gay bars even after the Black Cat Tavern riots, and Tom focused on asserting that the solicitation law the police relied on was unconstitutional. He helped organize 22 individual defendants who had been arrested at the Black Pipe bar into a group who challenged the solicitation law - a legal first. In those days, police could depend on the shame of the defendants to win their convictions. By organizing the defendants Tom helped to turn the tables, to show the court that these men did not necessarily accept the prevailing notion that what they'd done was wrong.

A bit of context is in order. At the time, the L.A. police unit assigned to gay bars was referred to as the "fruit detail." A police representative provided written testimony to the legislature that gay men were prone to the seduction and molestation of adolescents and children. L.A.'s inordinately powerful police chief, Ed Davis, was publicly comparing gays to lepers spreading disease.

Tom worked with several other people to issue a report that showed gay men were being selectively prosecuted. Despite very strong political opposition, he stuck to his guns in public forums, challenging Davis - at one point having to adopt his middle initial because there was another Tom Coleman practicing law in L.A. who was concerned about being misidentified from the increasing number of press reports about Thomas F. Coleman's crusade.

Some more context. In one of Tom's cases, his client accepted a plea bargain. When the judge issued the probation terms, he included these: (1) the client could not "publicly associate with known homosexuals," and (2) he had to stay out of places where homosexuals would congregate. Tom, of course, objected since this meant his client could not, in fact, associate with his own lawyer, a "known" homosexual. The judge blithely noted Tom's objection, and Tom took his client by the arm, asking him in a loud voice to violate the terms of his probation. They went to the chambers of the supervising judge, and after some negotiation got an order from the court that such probation terms were improper.

This is the legal and social structure that existed - and needed to be changed - before anyone could even think about what rights same-sex couples were entitled to.

[Note: The non-public information here is taken from Tom's as-yet unpublished memoir, The Domino Effect.]

How Gay Marriage Was Born

Jon Rauch mentions his very good article on the vital, social importance of incrementalism in gay marriage. To that, I add a hearty Amen, and urge everyone to read it immediately.

But in mentioning one of the most important strains in the original thinking about how to achieve equality - what Jon calls "the family stream," a more conservative contrast to the liberal Stonewall civil rights stream - he winds up underarguing his own point. And in so doing, he makes a mistake too many people do -- undervaluing the landmark role that California played in gay marriage by taking a series of small, cautious local steps before making equality a statewide issue. California did not start with marriage or lawsuits It started with domestic partnership.

As I argued in California's Quiet Revolution, the landscape in the 1980s included no legal rights at all for same-sex couples as couples. While we had access, in California, to explicit contractual rights under our Supreme Court's landmark decision in Marvin v. Marvin, no law anywhere - not in California, not in the U.S., and not anywhere else on earth - recognized the relationships of same-sex couples.

That changed in the early 1980s, when the City of Berkeley began its first efforts to recognize "domestic partners." The original and unprecedented laws went into place in Berkeley in 1984, followed the next year by the City of West Hollywood.

None of these ordinances could have changed California's marriage law, and they did not purport to. They simply did at the local level what local governments can do - recognized that same-sex couples existed within their jurisdictions and had the same needs that opposite-sex couples did. Since they could not get married under state law, the local governments provided what recognition and rights they could. The revolution was that it was governments that were trying to treat same-sex couples fairly.

This local movement took a giant leap forward in 1986 when Thomas F. Coleman, Nora Baladerian and Christopher McCauley got the City of Los Angeles to create its Task Force on Family Diversity - which, for full disclosure, I served on. The point of the task force was to show that the notion of "family," traditionally limited in law to relationships of blood, marriage and adoption, included people - specifically same-sex couples - who were functioning families even though they could not meet the existing legal qualifications.

That task force is, in my (obviously biased) opinion, the fountainhead of Jon's family stream. It is what led to L.A.'s adoption of a domestic partnership ordinance in 1988, and that is what helped to put domestic partnership - and the awkward legal position of same-sex couples in the law -- on the map. And it was domestic partnership that caused the very slow but inevitable movement that has landed us in today's radically different legal world for same-sex couples.

Thus, I disagree with Jon's assertion that "Right off the bat, the political activists involved in same-sex marriage eschewed Burkean principles. . . " That may have been true of an awful lot of activists on both sides, probably the vast majority. But there were some visionaries - and Tom Coleman is one of the most savvy - who saw the value of taking small steps to begin a long journey.

Queers for Palestine?

Of all the slogans chanted and displayed at anti-Israel rallies over the past month, surely "Queers for Palestine" ranks as the most oxymoronic. It is the motto of the San Francisco-based Queers Undermining Israeli Terrorism (QUIT), a group advocating financial divestment from the Jewish State. QUIT contends that Zionism is racism, regularly demonstrates at gay pride marches, organizes with far-right Muslim organizations, and successfully lobbied the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission to boycott the 2006 World Pride Conference due to its location that year in Jerusalem.

What makes QUIT oxymoronic is that their affinity for Palestine isn't reciprocated. There may be queers for Palestine, but Palestine certainly isn't for queers, either in the livable or empathetic sense. Like all Islamic polities, the Palestinian Authority systematically harasses gay people. Under the cloak of rooting out Israeli "collaborators," P.A. officials extort, imprison, and torture gays. But Palestinian oppression of homosexuality isn't merely a matter of state policy, it's one firmly rooted in Palestinian society, where hatred of gays surpasses even that of Jews. Last October, a gay Palestinian man with an Israeli lover petitioned Israel's high court of justice for asylum, claiming that his family threatened to kill him if he did not "reform." He's one of the few lucky Palestinians to be able to challenge his plight.

And that"s only in the relatively benign West Bank. The Gaza Strip, which has stagnated under the heel of Hamas"s Islamofascist rule since 2007, is an even more dangerous place for gays, 'a minority of perverts and the mentally and morally sick,' in the words of a senior Hamas leader. As in Iran, Hamas"s patron and the chief sponsor of international terrorism, even the mere suspicion of homosexuality will get one killed in Gaza, being hurled from the roof of a tall building the method of choice.

It's these facts that make the notion of "Queers for Palestine" so bizarre. Contrary to what some gay activists might have you believe, there really are not that many political subjects where one's sexuality ought influence an opinion. Aside from the obvious issues related to civic equality (recognition of partnerships, open service in the military, etc.), how does homosexuality imply a particular viewpoint on complicated matters like Social Security Reform, health care policy, or the war in Iraq?

The answer, at least for some of those on the left side of the spectrum, is one found in the early rhetoric of the Gay Liberation Front, the leading gay rights organization to emerge after the Stonewall riots. The GLF was, in the words of historian Paul Berman, the "gay wing of the revolutionary alliance" that in the 1970s challenged the liberal consensus and came to be known as the "New Left."

GLF leaders, for instance, played an instrumental role in the creation of the Venceremos Brigade, which dispatched starry-eyed American radicals to pick sugar cane in Cuba as a show of solidarity with the regime of Fidel Castro. (Like the Palestinian Authority, Communist Cuba didn't exactly return the kindness of its gay sympathizers; for decades it interned gays and HIV-positive individuals in prison labor camps). The GLF allied itself with a whole host of radical organizations (like the murderous Black Panthers) whose role in the struggle for gay equality was tenuous at best. And the very name of the GLF was adopted from the National Liberation Front, the moniker of the Vietnamese Communists.

Why does this history matter now? Although you will find few out-and-out Marxists in the leadership of gay organizations today, most gay activists still view the world with the same sort of "oppression" complex epitomized by the early radicals who led the GLF. They believe gay people to be "oppressed," and hold that any other group claiming the same victim status should earn the support of gays.

It's for this reason that every major gay organization was so hesitant to talk about the overwhelming support among African-Americans to ban gay marriage in California, and why the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force went so far as to commission a bogus study ostensibly refuting that disturbing statistic itself. In the estimation of the gay rights establishment, African-Americans, like gays, are "oppressed," and there is no room for enemies on the left.

But gays will never get anywhere as long as they view the world in this constrictive and counterproductive way. Indeed, if one wanted to construe a "gay" position on the Arab-Israeli conflict - that is, examine the issue purely through the prism of the welfare of gay people - the inescapable stance is nothing less than partiality for Israel. Israel, after all, is the only state in the Middle East that legally enshrines the rights of gay people. Gays serve openly in the military and occupy high-profile positions in business and public life, and Tel Aviv is an international gay mecca. As cliched as it may sound, Israel is an oasis of liberal tolerance in a reactionary religious backwater, and if gay people want to stand with the "oppressed" of the region, it is the Palestinians seeking a peaceful, two-state solution, not the murderers of Hamas or their backers in Tehran, who merit support.

None of this is to say that gay people are wrong for sympathizing with the downtrodden and genuinely oppressed; on the contrary, it's an admirable quality. But all too often, ideologues with ulterior motives and radical agendas pervert this worthy instinct.

It's one thing to express concern about the humanitarian conditions in the Palestinian territories. But to stand alongside the enthusiasts of religious fascism isn't "progressive." It's obscene.

Marriage or Mirage?

On Dec. 11, at a candid community discussion on the pursuit of D.C. marriage equality, a few participants noted that D.C. domestic partners already enjoy protections comparable to gay married couples in Massachusetts and Connecticut. That raises a question: What are the potential gains and risks of proceeding with a marriage bill early in 2009, as D.C. Councilmember David Catania has indicated he plans to do?

There are several factors to consider. First, the U.S. Constitution gives Congress exclusive legislative power over the District of Columbia, and past Democratic congresses have infringed on D.C. Home Rule over gay issues. The fact that Democrats increased their majorities in both houses and won the White House does not mean they will respect D.C.'s local autonomy or support marriage equality. The many conservative "Blue Dog" Democrats elected in 2006 and 2008 certainly will not. Even activists who favor moving forward on marriage equality expect Congress to bar the District from implementing it.

Second, D.C. Delegate to Congress Eleanor Holmes Norton wants the marriage bill postponed until she can press her legislative agenda for the District, including a full voting member of Congress as well as legislative and budgetary autonomy. Winning those first would put us in a stronger position to move ahead with marriage.

Third, the plan to block a ballot measure on the bill by making it an amendment to the D.C. Human Rights Act (whose protections are not subject to referendum or initiative) will be firmly challenged - including by Congress members - as an attempt to foil the popular will. While I agree that minority rights should not be subject to majority vote, politically this stratagem is too clever by half.

Fourth, nearly 60 percent of the D.C. population is African American, and polls show that a majority of black voters opposes marriage equality while a majority of white voters supports it. Those numbers can be improved, but it will require a concerted grassroots effort coupled with a well-funded media campaign.

Catania claims that those who say "not now" are really saying "not ever." It is absurd to suggest that Norton, a staunch ally of the LGBT community, wants to put off marriage equality forever just because she asks for a few months' delay. Treating those who don't support one's preferred timetable as opponents on the underlying issue is a poor way to cultivate allies, and fails to refute the reality-based activists who urge that we proceed in a smart and strategic way.

Jon Hoadley of Stonewall Democrats said at the town hall meeting that we should make it clear that we will not accept the D.C. marriage bill being traded away for the sake of passing other legislation. That is easier said than done when we lack the votes on the Hill for marriage but are better situated on hate crimes and employment discrimination. Denouncing congressional allies for such pragmatic trade-offs is likelier to grind the national LGBT legislative agenda to a halt than advance D.C. marriage equality.

Until marriage equality is achieved federally, marriages granted to same-sex couples by D.C. or the states will be unequal, and the difference between marriages and comprehensive domestic partnerships or civil unions will be largely symbolic. To be sure, marriage carries powerful symbolism, and nationwide demonstrations on Nov. 15 revealed new enthusiasm. Translating enthusiasm into victories, however, requires political savvy, outreach and organizing. With the holidays upon us and no campaign in place, the prospect of introducing a hot bill in a few weeks seems more a grandstanding gesture than part of a serious plan.

With Catania bent on moving ahead in January, we are faced with recruiting key allies in the African American and faith communities within a few weeks. This work, which would provide political cover for wavering D.C. Council members, requires far more hands than the relative few who have reached across our city's social divides over the years. As it stands, Catania is putting the cart before the horse.

I will be faulted for broaching these concerns publicly, but keeping silent out of solidarity will not make the problems disappear. Those whose enthusiasm outstrips their judgment should stop using talk of a generational split to dismiss the concerns of more experienced activists. Reality has a way of coming back to bite you. Let's work methodically toward real, sustainable marriage equality, not chase a mirage.

Learning from Obama

He is the most gifted political figure in two generations. He ran a smart, disciplined, and innovative campaign that made the most of his charisma, toughness, and confidence. When hit with a possibly fatal compilation of inflammatory clips from his pastor, he rose to the occasion with a searching and luminous speech on race that dared to treat his audience like adults. He responded to the financial crisis with a calm deliberation that belied his adversaries' charges of unreadiness. As he redrew the political map on Nov. 4, he gave our nation a moment of redemption that prompted dancing in the streets of the world.

In the process, Barack Obama showed the LGBT movement how to win. More on that shortly.

The other big news of the election - the revocation of marriage equality by California voters - has provoked plenty of drama, from massive marches to racial scapegoating. Some are claiming that the Nov. 15 protests across the country are the true start of the marriage equality movement, but that is false. The flashpoint of Proposition 8, like Stonewall before it, galvanized large numbers of people, but in both cases the movement's pioneers began laying the groundwork more than a decade before.

The racist recriminations directed by some against African Americans for the Prop 8 vote were an awful counterpoint to Obama's transformative victory. Some even blamed Obama for the result because of the increased turnout he generated, but Nate Silver of www.fivethirtyeight.com points out that new California voters actually opposed the initiative by 62 to 38 percent.

Furthermore, singling out African Americans out of all electoral subgroups for casting blame, aside from being monumentally counterproductive, ignores the fact that Prop 8's opponents included the California NAACP, the National Black Justice Coalition, the National Black Police Association, the National Congress of Black Women, and many black pastors. That we lost (although the pro-gay numbers improved from 2000) calls not for bitterness but for reassessment and recommitment.

Kathryn Kolbert, President of People for the American Way Foundation, wrote on Nov. 7 about the far right's wedge politics: "The Religious Right has invested in systematic outreach to the most conservative elements of the Black Church, creating and promoting national spokespeople like Bishop Harry Jackson, and spreading the big lie that gays are out to destroy religious freedom and prevent pastors from preaching about homosexuality from the pulpit."

Not only must LGBT advocates improve our own outreach efforts, we need to avoid playing into right-wing hands as we do when we denigrate religion and talk about taking away churches' tax exemptions. We are too often reactive, while our adversaries are strategic. We need to catch up.

In the aftermath of Prop 8, some in our community have resorted to bad old habits: ranking oppressions; referring to "the LGBT Community" as if it were monolithic and distinct from the black gay community; calling the marriage fight a "white thing"; and making disparaging generalizations about one another instead of working to build trust.

Obama's landmark campaign offers gay activists many lessons: Believe in yourself. Tell your story. Frame the issues rather than letting your adversaries frame them. Wrap yourself in faith, flag, and family - the other side deserves no monopoly. Listen to people who disagree with you; you may find common ground and supporters in unexpected places. Do your homework. Organize in a way that motivates and empowers your volunteers. Speak to your listeners' better angels instead of rebuking or pandering to them. Talk to voters like adults. Don't flee from challenges, rise to them.

One who rose to the occasion on Nov. 15 was comedian and actress Wanda Sykes, who publicly came out at a Las Vegas rally, saying that the Prop 8 supporters "have galvanized a community. We are so together now and we all want the same thing and we are not gonna settle for less. Instead of having gay marriage in California, no, we're gonna get it across the country. When my wife and I leave California, I want to have my marriage also recognized in Nevada, in Arizona, all the way to New York. ... I am proud to be a woman, I'm proud to be a black woman and I'm proud to be gay."

The source of progress is risking the next step, whatever that is for each of us. Yes we can.

Anti-Gay, Anti-Logical

For decades, bigots objected to interracial marriage because the participants were too different from each other. But now the bigots are objecting to same-sex marriage because-get this-this participants are too much alike. Many of today's bigots are in the same demographic groups as the bigots back then, so I wish they'd make up their minds whether it is sameness or difference they object too.

Homophobes like to argue that if we legalize gay civil marriage it will lead to heterosexual polygamy. As usual with homophobes, they have things backwards. For much of recorded history, marriage was a man and a number of women, depending on the man's economic status. Any reader of the Old Testament knows this. That tradition continues to this day in Muslim countries and existed for several decades among Mormons in the U.S. So, as same-sex marriage becomes a reality, we can accurately say that polygamy preceded same-sex marriage, not followed as a result.

"Ex-gay" advocates and their fundamentalist supporters say that one of the reasons people "become" homosexual is that they were "molested" as youths. Since almost all molesters are men, that means that young males molested by a man develop a sexual desire for men, but young woman molested by a man develop a sexual desire for women. So molestation supposedly makes men's desires turn toward the sex of the molester, but women's desires turn away from the sex of the m olester. No one has explained this contradiction. And how do they explain the far larger number of male and female youths who were molested but did not "become" homosexual? What does that do to their theory?

Robert Cary, director of "Save Me," a small-budget fictional film about an ex-gay ministry said, "Many [ex-gay functionaries] genuinely believe that they are helping people to live good lives. But they believe that you're born with your religion and choose your sexuality, when that is the opposite of the truth."-The Times of London, Oct. 7, 2008.

It is interesting that Alcoholics Anonymous insists that people who used to drink a lot but now abstain continue to refer to themselves as alcoholics long after they have stopped drinking. By contrast, the "ex-gay" proponents insist that people who used to engage in homosexuality but are trying to abstain not refer to themselves as homosexuals. One of them is surely wrong. I suspect both are.

I am not sure that sexual orientation makes us a community. We may be what Kurt Vonnegut called a "granfalloon." I think I have more in common with the thoughtful heterosexual man who likes music and art and literature than I do with a gay man who loves drag queens, "divas," and hip-hop. As hostility to gays lessens and gay people's defensive clannishness declines, other factors than sexuality will become more important in our lives. Will gays then become completely absorbed into the mainstream? That's not likely; unattached gays will still want same-sex partners and seek out places where those are most available. That does have some social ramifications.

And finally, two belated notes for Gay History Month. First, gay liberation did not begin with Stonewall; one source was in the arts community. "As some of us would later learn, if we didn't know already, sexual preference did play a part in the politics of the New York art world. New York Surrealists like Pavel Tchelitchew and Eugene Berman belonged to a gay subculture that had found greater acceptance in the uptown worlds of ballet and fashion than in the downtown Cedar Tavern scene populated by Pollock, Rothko, and company." -Herbert Muschamp, "The Secret History," New York Times, Jan. 8, 2006, section 2, pg. 1.

Art journalist Calvin Tomkins agrees: "Quite a few of the sixties artists were either bisexual or homosexual, and not a bit uptight about it. The attention and money lavished on the newcomers led to talk if a 'homintern,' a network of homosexual artists, dealers, and numerous curators in league to promote the work of certain favorites at the expense of 'straight' talents." -Off the Wall: Robert Rauschenberg and the Art World of Our Time (1980), p. 260.

Second, it seems to me that sex researcher Alfred C. Kinsey redefined homosexuality. Before Kinsey, the homosexual was the man who was penetrated, whether by bottoming in anal sex or by fellating a man. The man getting fellated was simply "trade" and could consider himself (and often was) heterosexual. But Kinsey defined homosexuality as having an orgasm with another man. So if the man getting fellated had an orgasm, Kinsey counted that as a homosexual act. And if the man doing the fellating did not have an orgasm, then he was not included in the count.

This Was Victory?

Updated November 10, 2008

California, Florida and Arizona banned same-sex marriage; Arkansas banned adoptions by gay couples. Kevin Ivers, blogging over at Citizen Crain, hits the nail on the head:

The 2008 election was, in fact, a disaster for gays.... When I learned on Facebook this morning that dear gay friends of mine in New York were dancing in Times Square, and other friends in Washington were celebrating in front of the White House and actually comparing the experience to the fall of the Berlin Wall-while gay marriage was going down the toilet in California-it was astounding to me....

The gay movement used to be about thinking outside the box, including the one we ourselves might be in, and taking nothing for granted. But something happened over the last several years that changed all that. Now it's just…a gigantic co-opting of our energies by a political party that does nothing in return. Besides a whole lot of fundraising.

As one of his readers comments:

I briefly showed up a Stonewall "Victory" party in Sacramento which I THOUGHT was focused on Prop 8. Turns out it was more of a Democratic Party victory party with little emphasis on Prop 8.... By about 9:00 pm, as Obama was giving his victory speech, the results for Prop 8 started trickling in and showed an early lead for "YES." But no one seemed to notice or care.... By the ebullient atmosphere, you'd think Prop 8 was some new dog licensing statute.... I left after only a few minutes-heartsick, disgusted, and angry at the return numbers and also at peoples' dispassionate reaction.

And here's another first-hand account by a volunteer on the "No on 8" campaign, who describes the "No" campaign as "the most poorly put together effort I have ever seen."

The banner headline in the Nov. 7 Washington Blade blares "'Change' Has Come to America" with a huge, reverential photo of Obama, arm raised to accept the adulation of his adoring masses. It overshadows a smaller boxed article, "Voters in Calif., Fla. and Ariz. Ban Same-Sex Marriage." In an era in which gay activism has become a wholly owned fundraising subsidy of the Democratic National Committeee, that's the change we can believe in.

More. Over at Slate, Farhad Manjoo examines the impact of African-American Obama supporters, 70% of whom voted for Prop 8, and concludes: "Had black turnout matched levels of previous elections, the vote on the gay-marriage ban-which trailed in the polls for much of the summer-would have been much closer. It might even have failed."

The same could be said of Florida, where a hugh black turnout for Obama helped to pass an amendment banning not just same-sex marriage but legal recognition of "substantially similar" partnerships that might bestow the benefits of marriage.

Furthermore. You might think major outreach to black voters, making the case to oppose these anti-gay amendments, would have been a priority for LGBT political organizers this year. It wasn't, perhaps because mostly white LGBT activists are told they have no business telling blacks how to vote, and they believe it.

Of course, this might have helped.

More Still. The Obama-quoting pro Prop 8 robocall. This deserves much more attention, but that wouldn't serve the Obamist cause, would it.