"Well, we voted. I don't know why they don't just accept it."
I had just settled into my seat for my flight to Chicago when I overheard that from one of the two flight attendants chatting in the galley right behind me. It took me a second to process that they were surely talking about Prop 8, another second to register the chill up and down my spine that I was in the personal presence of the hate I'd been protesting all week.
Let's face it. Making a sign and seizing control of a major intersection with a couple thousand of your closest friends is exciting and not all that risky. You've got the safety of numbers behind you as you chant your slogans. You borrow voice from your neighbors and lend yours to theirs. It's a great contribution to the fight, but it's not that hard to get out and do.
I had to make a decision and fast. Was I ready to take it to the next level and stand alone without a sign, without a chant, and fight alone? Before my fear could get the better of me and before I could talk myself out of it, I got to my feet and turned to face the pair.
I don't really know where the words cmae from, but they came out and fast.
"The fundamental rights of one group aren't supposed to go to a vote of the general population. That's why we have a constitution--to protect minorities from the tyranny of the majority," I interjected.
The woman nearest me hurriedly explained that she had voted agianst Prop 8. I thanked her and levelled my gaze at her coworker and simply asked "and you?" She was struck dumb by the whole notion of being challenged, but she wasn't about to get away with silence.
"It's certainly your right, but I'd like to understand why if you did vote in favor of it," I added.
She muttered something about simply not thinking it was right or necessary. That a marriage should be between a man and a woman, but she's cool with civil unions (how magnanimous!). OK, now I had something to work with.
"But don't you understand that it is different? Not only is the whole idea of 'Seperate but Equal' inherently unequal, but there are tnagible differences you just can't fix through the law. Imagine if someone goes to the emergency room and says 'My husband is in there. Let me in.' Everyone would understand what that meant and clear the way. Now imagine someone goes in and says 'My domestic partner is in there. Let me in.' Surely you can envision somebody getting the response 'Ummm, I'm not sure what our policy is. Let me get a supervisor' as precious minutes tick away and now it's up to the hospital bureaucracy to get you in there to make life or death decisions. They aren't the same thing."
She clearly wasn't prepared to consider any kind of reasonable discourse, but at least she was starting to get embarrassed.
She shited her eyes away and meekly responded "Well, I don't know about that, but I still think they shouldn't get 'married'."
It was that she couldn't look me in the eye that kept me going as I chased her evasive gaze, found her eyes, and not so meekly said "You mean 'me' not 'they'. It was my personal rights you were talking about."
She tried to abort altogether with "Well, I don't want to get into a whole discussion."
"Well, I'm sorry, but I do. As I said, it was my personal rights you voted against, and I simply wanted to understand why."
I think she was desperate for an emergency evacuation of the plane at this point as I got another mumbled explanation that "they" just shouldn't marry. At this point it was clear I hadn't found someone whom I could educate, so might as well cut her loose.
"Well, again you meant 'me'. But all I can do is try to educate the fair-minded who just aren't aware that this isn't fair, and to identify those who simply aren't fair-minded." My glare indicated exactly into which column she'd been sorted. "Thanks for your time."
I sat down, still shaking a little, but without a hint of the shame I'd felt last week when the vote came down. No, it didn't make the evening news, but I knew that I'd made perhaps my most significant contribution to date to this struggle.
The battle for marriage equality needs this too. Whether you can get out to a protest or not, you can try this yourself. Have the uncomfortable conversation with the relative you've been avoiding, with the neighbor who had the yellow sign in their yard, or with your pastor who asked the congregation to contribute to the fight against us. The confrontation doesn't have to be a fight, just personal. Find out why they oppose our rights and see if it's because they never thought about it carefully or if they just don't care. Don't fight the ones who hate us. We're much better off with those people bored and disinterested than fired up, but find the others and just keep asking them why and telling them your story.
If you can do it on a plane where you get treated like a mini-celebrity by the rest of the crew the whole flight, all the better. :)
Thanks for fighting this with me. No matter where in the U.S. you are, We'll see you at your city hall this Saturday at 10:30am Pacific / 1:30pm Eastern. www.jointheimpact.com for details. If you can make it to Sacramento on the 22nd, a march is forming. I'll post details as I have them.
Repost at will.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Saturday, November 8, 2008
No more Mr. Nice Gay
They could have had it so easy.
They could have held on to 47 states and laughed as we were happy with the occasional victory here and there spread out over the next 30 years, maybe never getting our rights in some states.
But it wasn't enough for them. They had to come to California and wage a campaign of lies and hate to strip us of our rights in one of the few places we were lucky enough to have them.
Well, patience isn't enough for me now, and it's not enough for the thousands of gays, lesbians, and fair-minded Californians who have taken to the streets in the hours since the shock of the Proposition 8 passage and the removal of our basic rights.
Why are we out here? It's not to get Even. It's to get Equal.
I was walking through the airport in San Francisco on Wednesday night, fresh off a long flight. I knew as I got on the plane that the results were looking bad. When I got off the plane 11 hours later it was clear we'd experienced a stunning rebuke. I was walking around in a daze, and experienced a moment that I hadn't faced since junior high school. I saw a cute guy and gave him a smile before I suddenly felt a wave of shame and that I wasn't allowed to do that anymore--that who I was wasn't ok again.
It lasted just a few seconds, but the same could be said for the initial jolt of a massive earthquake. The aftershocks haven't stopped yet. Before the hour was out, I had changed my flight home to L.A. and was in a cab headed to a rally at San Francisco City Hall. There I found a couple of thousand of my closest friends going through the same thing. That night, we just lit candles, sang songs, even held hands just to grieve a little. It helped. I felt strong, not ashamed.
The next afternoon, I got word of the demonstration at the Mormon church in Westwood. Again, within in an hour, I was there. This time we were larger in number and were finding our voice. We marched around that massive eyesore of a church and let out some anger before we realized they weren't the ones we needed to convince. We took off to the West to let the city know what had happened to us and what we wanted (Equality) and when we wanted it (Now).
It was always peaceful, except for the one guy who jumped out of his truck and attacked one of us. Even then we had cool heads amongst us who held back our anger to let the police handle it and let us continue with our message. We fanned out across the city, yeah we stopped traffic. Yeah, it took a lot of people 3 hours to get home last night. Sorry, it's going to take me a lot more hours than that to get to my rights, and we got the word out.
I don't ever intend to feel that shame again. I don't ever want another person to feel that way again. We're here and we're already equal, it's just a matter of correcting this little problem where our government doesn't realize yet.
So, I will remain active until the fair-minded are aware that this is unfair.
I will remain active until I forget the shame I felt on Wednesday.
I will remain active until marriage equality is a reality for all Americans.
Hate won the wrong battle. Hate won it the wrong way. The time for slow evolutionary change is gone. It's time for this to be settled. I look forward to working with hundreds of thousands of you across the country to get it settled. I'll see you in L.A.. I'll see you in Sacramento. I'll see you in Washington.
First and foremost, I'll see as many Angelenos as you can get the word out to in Silverlake at Sunset Junction this Saturday night at 6:00pm.
Thanks for listening and thanks for your help.
They could have held on to 47 states and laughed as we were happy with the occasional victory here and there spread out over the next 30 years, maybe never getting our rights in some states.
But it wasn't enough for them. They had to come to California and wage a campaign of lies and hate to strip us of our rights in one of the few places we were lucky enough to have them.
Well, patience isn't enough for me now, and it's not enough for the thousands of gays, lesbians, and fair-minded Californians who have taken to the streets in the hours since the shock of the Proposition 8 passage and the removal of our basic rights.
Why are we out here? It's not to get Even. It's to get Equal.
I was walking through the airport in San Francisco on Wednesday night, fresh off a long flight. I knew as I got on the plane that the results were looking bad. When I got off the plane 11 hours later it was clear we'd experienced a stunning rebuke. I was walking around in a daze, and experienced a moment that I hadn't faced since junior high school. I saw a cute guy and gave him a smile before I suddenly felt a wave of shame and that I wasn't allowed to do that anymore--that who I was wasn't ok again.
It lasted just a few seconds, but the same could be said for the initial jolt of a massive earthquake. The aftershocks haven't stopped yet. Before the hour was out, I had changed my flight home to L.A. and was in a cab headed to a rally at San Francisco City Hall. There I found a couple of thousand of my closest friends going through the same thing. That night, we just lit candles, sang songs, even held hands just to grieve a little. It helped. I felt strong, not ashamed.
The next afternoon, I got word of the demonstration at the Mormon church in Westwood. Again, within in an hour, I was there. This time we were larger in number and were finding our voice. We marched around that massive eyesore of a church and let out some anger before we realized they weren't the ones we needed to convince. We took off to the West to let the city know what had happened to us and what we wanted (Equality) and when we wanted it (Now).
It was always peaceful, except for the one guy who jumped out of his truck and attacked one of us. Even then we had cool heads amongst us who held back our anger to let the police handle it and let us continue with our message. We fanned out across the city, yeah we stopped traffic. Yeah, it took a lot of people 3 hours to get home last night. Sorry, it's going to take me a lot more hours than that to get to my rights, and we got the word out.
I don't ever intend to feel that shame again. I don't ever want another person to feel that way again. We're here and we're already equal, it's just a matter of correcting this little problem where our government doesn't realize yet.
So, I will remain active until the fair-minded are aware that this is unfair.
I will remain active until I forget the shame I felt on Wednesday.
I will remain active until marriage equality is a reality for all Americans.
Hate won the wrong battle. Hate won it the wrong way. The time for slow evolutionary change is gone. It's time for this to be settled. I look forward to working with hundreds of thousands of you across the country to get it settled. I'll see you in L.A.. I'll see you in Sacramento. I'll see you in Washington.
First and foremost, I'll see as many Angelenos as you can get the word out to in Silverlake at Sunset Junction this Saturday night at 6:00pm.
Thanks for listening and thanks for your help.
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