Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow (pt. 1)

This has been an eventful weekend for me. Even now (at 3:30 am) as I am putting the finishing touches on two of this week's posts, I am defending myself against the charge of intolerance. I am intolerant, it seems, because I suggested that Randall Terry, of Operation Rescue, may be implicitly pro-murder because he explicitly did not condemn it. I am at a loss to understand my intolerance (prejudice? maybe, but intolerance? - see me on Facebook for details). I would like it explained to me some time.

But that is a WHOLLY different topic. This weekend was about reaction to the CA Supreme Court ruling on Proposition 8. I attended three rallies since the decision, culminating in Sunday's tense affair at City Hall. This post is the first in a three part series entitled YESTERDAY, TODAY AND TOMORROW: BIGOTRY AND FEAR IS ALWAYS THE SAME. Yesterday, Saturday, was an uplifting experience, motivating me to act more and speak more. Today, Sunday, was about intimidation and fear, but still motivated me to act and speak more. Tomorrow (all tomorrows, I suppose) will be reflections of the two days:

Yesterday (Meet in the Middle for Equality)

Dmitri had no idea what was happening. I bribed him to come with me to the Meet in the Middle rally on the promise of a fast food run. He was down with that. On the way I explained what it was all about in the simplest terms possible. I gave him examples of famous people with whom he is familiar (thanks, Portia and Ellen) and family members to illustrate the personal nature of this fight. I wanted him to think about how he would feel if someone he knew and loved were trod upon by popular vote, which I think is the single biggest obstacle to Prop. 8 supporters. Dmitri is eight. It didn’t escape my attention that this fight could be on his behalf as easily as not. I don’t have a lot of information about Dmitri’s sexual preference, and frankly it only matters in the context that if he would be gay he would have to struggle for inclusion under the current set of societal rules. I cannot condone that. I would not want my son to fight for acceptance. I would want him to enjoy every right, or privilege, that I enjoy. What I do know about Dmitri is that he gets along well with girls, he’s insistent that his clothes match and he loves to dance. Take that for whatever it’s worth.

The atmosphere was jovial. There was music blaring, tents for t-shirts, buttons and whatnot. There was a children’s tent where they had toys for the little ones, some coloring activities and face painting. We didn’t get our faces painted because just then the marchers arrived. The march route went from Selma to Fresno’s City Hall, fifteen miles overall. They were hot. They were hoarse. But they were still loud, “Gay/Straight, Black/White, marriage is a civil right!” We were asked what we wanted, “Equal rights!” Asked when we wanted them. “Now!” The speakers were activists and celebrities, or both. Eric McCormack made some funnies as the expense of intolerance. He said, “You’re behaving like the mean older brother who says, ‘you can play with my toys, but NOT MY TRUCK! you’ll break it.’”

Though there were other celebrities, I was most impressed to see Lt. Dan Choi. Dan Choi is a gifted Arab-speaking linguist who came out on the Rachel Maddow show on MSNBC. He was subsequently fired by the military. Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell has silenced a generation of America’s best and brightest servicemen and servicewomen. It has made them prisoners of their sexuality and compromised the safety of this country by reinforcing arbitrary strictures against otherwise good soldiers. I was encouraged by another speaker to be “more vocal and more active,” as a straight ally to this cause. Also, the granddaughter of Cesar Chavez reminded us of his words, “You can’t champion equality for your own people when you tolerate discrimination against any other group of people because of who they are.” For me, it was activist Robin Tyler’s words that resonated the most. “No civil rights movement has ever lost in the history of the United States. Ever.”

I had never heard Cleve Jones speak before, and unfortunately I was in the comfort of my own home watching a live feed when he did. He had me in tears when held up Harvey Milk’s bullhorn reminding us all of what is possible. The message was clear: We have been stripped of our civil rights. We have been relegated to second and third class citizens. We want our rights back, NOW.

To that end, I am a straight ally. And I will fight too.