June is one of the two times of the year when the GLBTQ
community traditionally pauses to celebrate our major and modest successes in
securing what ought to be our unchallenged liberties, and to protest those who
would impede our march to freedom.
Twenty-five years ago, it was also the month when Americans
would get their annual exposure to the term “gay rights” blasted across the
airwaves. Not so anymore, as the battles
for and against these rights are mentioned daily in the national and
international media.
This year, men and women in the U.S. military will openly
march in these parades. We will celebrate a growing support for marriage
equality, including that of our President who dragged his feet and used his
vice president as a test balloon before coming out in favor – while we try to
make sense of this support contrasted against state electorates that are adding
constitutional bans against such unions. And for those of us who are research
wonks, we will pause to acknowledge Richard Spitzer’s long over due, but
nonetheless much welcomed recanting of his terribly flawed study that has been
touted for over a decade as proof that reparative therapy and other forms of
interventions can cure homosexuality.
As these parades move through the streets of America and
well beyond, in Jacksonville Florida our focus will be on an extraordinary
coalition of GLBTQ community, titans of local and national businesses, leaders
of faith communities and former and current political figures from across the
aisles that have come together to nudge our city into the twenty-first century
with the passage of amendments to our local human rights ordinances –
amendments that would prohibit discrimination against members of the GLBTQ
community in the workplace, housing and public accommodations. For many within
our community, as is true across the land of the brave, the question of
employment rights has already been settled by corporate policies. But now in
Jacksonville we seek to codify these rights into law so that all of the
citizens of this the largest city by land mass can join the 50% or more of you
out there in the blogosphere who take these rights for granted.
As I sit dead center in the middle of this local struggle, I
am keenly aware that our conversation is but a reflection of the larger
conversations that continue across America.
Reaffirmed by the allies who have jumped on the train with us and
completely unsurprised by those who would throw obstructions onto the tracks in
an effort to derail us, I am burdened by the question of how many of the GLBTQ
community can remain on this train. We
have our Chamber of Commerce and the Catholic Bishop supporting the measure for
gays, lesbians and bisexuals, but stopping short of mentioning the Ts and some
of the Qs. And we have women and men who
sit on the City Council questioning the inclusion of the words “gender
identity” and “gender expression” in our local amendments, pointing to some of
the earliest amendments in the state that still don’t carry this nomenclature.
The solid support for sexual orientation contrasted against
the silent and open resistance to mention of gender Identity and gender
expression is causing me great angst. I
feel torn between playing the roles of U.S. Congresswoman Tammy Baldwin versus
Congressman Barney Frank during the 2007 House of Representatives fight over
ENDA, the Employee Non-Discrimination Act that would have ended GLB
discrimination across the country. In this debate, Ms. Baldwin demanded that
transgender people be included in the legislation at any and all costs. Mr.
Frank certainly supported this inclusion, but not at the expense of the bill
dying in the legislature.
In writing Queer Questions, Clear Answers, I focused on
questions about issues surrounding sexual orientation, only occasionally
commenting on transgender members of our community. And when I did speak of these sisters and
brothers I was forced to note my lack of knowledge and understanding about the
issues that they faced, and to confess my own very early history of
discomfort. A discomfort remedied by
personal friendships with transgender and gender-queer individuals – the kinds
of friendships that occur when honest intimacy replaces cordial or forced
banter. If it took me time to learn to
love and respect these, the “untouchables” of our day, how can I now expect my
straight allies to understand why these men and women are in most need of these
protections? How do I make real the
message that until we are all free, none of us is truly free?
As gays and lesbians, we self-inflicted at least some of the
wounds we have suffered by hiding in our closets, socializing on the margins,
and denying our existence even to ourselves.
You just have to compare 13th and 14th century
Japan where homosexuality was openly admitted and spoken of to Europe of the
same era, where it was most often hidden in the shadows,
to understand this. In the early 20th century no one had to know
that the person working in the office next to him was gay. This ignorance made
it easy for the heterosexual to remain fearful, suspicious and ill informed
about who we are. Then starting slowly
in 1969 but later going full steam ahead, we openly declared our presence. And
our families and friends began to recognize our humanity and work with us to
secure our rights, often urging us not to move too quickly or expect too much.
But how does the transgender person accomplish the same
thing – getting the job and then coming out of the closet, without these
protections? With low numbers of transgender individuals, most Americans have
little to no opportunity to meet them and to learn the incredible stories
behind their metamorphoses and the pains they suffer with their new identity
contrasted against the pains that ravaged them before their acceptance of self.
Nor do we Americans understand that these women and men pose no more and, based
on crime data, most likely much less threat to our children than the
heterosexual living next door. Yes, we
are uncomfortable with looking at them because of their differences, but
differences always make us uncomfortable. We are also troubled looking at the
extreme burn patient and we feel awkward talking to the individual with extreme
cerebral palsy until we meet them as a friend.
Our discomfort can not be equated with threat or allow for rejection.
So what do I do this June as much of the world celebrates
gay pride? Do I accept a vote that gives
gays and lesbians in Jacksonville Florida rights in the workplace, housing and
public accommodation that should have been theirs all along and then continue
to work for the rights of people equally deserving and in greater need? Or do I say “no, it’s all or nothing?” To further complicate this decision is the
ironic fact that a little less than a month ago the EEOC passed a ruling that
would protect gender identity and gender expression but not sexual orientation
in employment. But even with this, these
groups remain unprotected in housing and public accommodation. And, because they’re based on an EEOC
ruling, these protections are open to challenge in the federal court. One decision makes a great politician; one
makes a great humanitarian. What if I want to be both? Stay tuned….
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