All Things Homo. Well, Many Things…

It really happened! After 8 long years of misery and hopelessness, bitter family infighting, and much loss in the way of national respect and values - what felt for so long as teetering on fascism and disrespect for the Constitution at every turn got a death blow on Tuesday when my country, which I love beyond measure, spoke up loudly and without restraint our rallying cry since we began work on this Campaign: YES WE CAN…

It is still very surreal and I cannot bring myself to let go of certain fears just yet, but I hope that in time it happens as it deservedly should. It has been an amazing experience watching all of this unfold in real time, and the coincidences are not lost on me. The old mill next door burned to the ground a week ago; that imposing, seemingly impenetrable structure that one couldn’t imagine being taken down by any conceivable force and yet there its remains sit on the riverbank across the way, a victim of itself. All it took was time and accelerant. What is left stands as a metaphor for an abrupt end to something big and destructive - and a lingering possibly for something even bigger to one day stand in its place.

We have been euphoric. We have been enjoying this renewed sense of hope and possibility for a better future because we believed in it and willed it into action. Tuesday evening was without question one of the most significant experiences of my entire life and I’m finding it staggering even now how enormous it really was. I sat in my home with one of my closest friends in the world watching the final results come in and being acutely aware of each one of my senses when the moment arrived signaling the certainty of our President-elect. Absent were recollections of happier tears shed, of joy being rediscovered and frustrations released, all cloaked in the brilliance of goodness and a return to a time when we finally believed once again that everything was going to be alright, my fellow countrymen had spoken in a defiant, resounding voice that would not be content to merely open new doors - these doors were kicked in, smashed to bits, and burned for kindling. Again, all it took was time and accelerant.

The initial shock and disbelief that it was actually happening was replaced with the soothing balm of reassurance by way of the numbers of people who were catalysts for this change occurring. My own county here in West Central Georgia, historically conservative, voted 70% in favor of Barack Obama and Joe Biden. Even Fort Benning, a fundamental part of our lifeblood, went to a majority for Obama/Biden. How extraordinary every part of this was! Finding it difficult to keep any semblance of composure, I let all of this wash over me and let go of everything I have held back for months and years in torrents of frustrative tension now flowing like the river this home is perched above. I felt more alive than I have in ages, and it was a catharsis well earned.

But my heart was heavy and still burdened, and a lingering sadness was pressing upon me for something that would never be and I couldn’t get my mind off of him. It was all so beguiling. Renea, knowing me better than most and having that magical ability to not only read my mind but also unintentionally speak my thoughts looked over to me and said aloud what was welling up in me. She said “I’d give anything if Harvey were alive to see this” and we both wept. It was shortly after this that the news of Prop 8 in California came in, as well as those in Arkansas, Florida, and Arizona - and we were momentarily bereft. It was a familiar feeling and for once we had the opportunity to put it down and replace it with our new President-elect facing the nation he was chosen to lead speaking to the world in one of the most precious, glorious moments of my life. I decided then not to waste my happiness as it has been so hard to earn earn. Mourn your losses because they are plenty - but celebrate your victories, because they are so few.

I’ve had a few days now to begin processing everything and take stock of what has transpired and what is left to be done. I have used this blog and others in an effort to spark dialog and create change, because I believe in the power of grassroots activism. There has never been a better time in history for this given the way in which the Obama campaign got its legs and honed its muscles on the shoulders of grassroots movements. I’ve thought long and hard about what is to be done now, where I go from here with my fighting nature and how to keep laboring to make things better. The battle I’ve helped fight for years now is finally over, but there are old ones that need footsoldiers and not enough are available.

I’m unnerved at the label placed on me and others like me that for some reason - any reason - we are second and third class citizens. That it is acceptable to ignore the separation of church and state while allowing an ignorant and antiquated religious bent to define what a ‘real’ family is or who should not have legal rights. I’m tired of being told I have to smile and play nice while sand is being kicked in my face, and I can no more be a spectator when my brothers and sisters are STILL being oppressed and discriminated against than I can capitulate to the insanity that tries to define who and what I am.

It is time for grassroots action. It is time to get your hands dirty and build something. It is time to finally be dissatisfied with being a second class citizen enough to stop being one and make change. It is time to stop fighting this fight for ME and start fighting it for WE. It is time to get engaged with each other and those who need to be held to account. It is time to declare as a nation that putting the fundamental rights of citizens of this country up for popular vote is illegal; it is un-American and it speaks to the same backward thinking that causes our children to harm themselves as they have no sense of self worth or self respect.

It is time we engayge_america.

“No one is born gay, you choose to be gay.” 

I used to get this one all of the time.  It never really bothered me until it came wrapped in a bible and was used as a club to beat me with.  That’s when I started looking into  far more substantial and valid texts where one might find logic, reason, truth, and my favorite - FACTS!  If a fight breaks out, I want to know I can defend myself.  Knowledge and backbone are the best weapons you can have in an argument next to the one thing that will ensure you’ll win, which is a cool head and nerves of steel.

I believe in science and what can be proved, not in jumping on a bandwagon of opinions or beliefs that cannot be backed up with substance and rely on superstition.  That sort of thing is not good enough and cannot pass muster.  It is the same reason why I’m an atheist, quite frankly.  When believers ask me to prove that god does not exist, I explain that it isn’t my place to disprove anything - the burden of proof lies with the believer, and until or unless there is evidential support that is fact based and capable of withstanding scrutiny, I’ll remain unconvinced.

Neuroscientist Simon LeVay, author of The Biology Of Sexual Orientation noted key differences in the brain structure of heterosexual men versus homosexual men; most notably in the areas of the brain that control out attraction to others.  Canadian scientists have further evidence to support this claim.  More recently a team of Swedish researchers have concluded essentially the same findings as LeVey, but for lesbians.  There is much more to be found, including linkage between DNA markers on the X chromosome and male sexual orientation.  Part of this study centered around an interesting finding that asserts homophobia may have a genetic basis also.

The thing about having this argument with intolerant people of any religious stripe is that you’re never going to trump their bible with any argument, however well reasoned or presented.  Sometimes they even make it easy for you and say some of the most horrible, nasty things you could imagine when you get too close to exposing their proclamations as weak subtext for their agenda - especially when they use bullshit phrases like ‘homosexual agenda’ or ‘culture war’.  The point at which someone loses their argument the fastest is when they let their emotions get the better of them and they start throwing out bombs.  They cannot win on merit, so they default to trying to bark louder.  In that second, claim your victory.

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This post is difficult for me to write for a number of reasons, but I’ve never spoken about it before - and given the current theme of my posts during Pride month, I felt it was necessary to write about it. I make this post in honor and remembrance of my transgendered friends - old and new - and those who are no longer alive to share in our lives anymore. Deidre & Ashley, I love and miss you terribly, I haven’t tears enough for what each of you suffered and I will never get over not being there when you left.

I want you to imagine something for me. I want you to imagine that things don’t match up between what you know and what you are. That there is something so very wrong between who you see in the mirror and who you know you really are, enshrined in taboo and shame, that you are forced to live an unfathomable lie. Consider that whatever it is about you that you know is wrong is so overwhelming you can barely bring yourself to accept it, let alone say it out loud to another person. As my friend Jennifer says “I don’t want to say it, ’cause you know if you don’t say it it’s not real.” In your desperation, you begin to think that there is no hope you’ll ever find another person who will accept this hidden part of you, compounding the shame you carry like bricks in your heart and knowing you are powerless. You may have thoughts of suicide. You may act out in self destructive ways and turn your anger inward on yourself. You may feel so completely isolated in this private hell that you’ll try anything to numb the pain, from drugs and alcohol or being excessively mean and cruel to overcompensating for what you feel are your shortcomings - anything to not have to deal with “it”. Imagine this is a secret so overwhelming that it prevents you from ever feeling like you could be happy, like you could ever live like “normal” people do. Imagine feeling every day like there is a bomb about to go off in your life and you have nowhere to hide. Imagine having a part of your body that feels so damaged, so alien, that you have considered self mutilation just to be free from the prison it places you in. Imagine feeling like this private part of yourself that by all rights should be shared with the world is so overwhelming that you can barely breathe. Perhaps you cannot put these descriptions on yourself. Fine, have it your way. Imagine the person I’m describing is someone you know, someone whose secretive, or odd behaviour makes you question the deep sense of sadness they reek of. Maybe it’s your friend. Maybe it’s your father. Maybe it’s your child. Maybe it’s your spouse. Maybe it really just is YOU.

Now imagine me, and imagine I’m telling you to your face that there is nothing I find wrong - or ugly - or shameful about you. I know better. If nobody else, I can see through the things most “normal” people cannot get past and see what makes a whole person themselves. That’s what I chose to say to someone I love very much many years ago when I knew precious little about transgendered people. I was so honored and I felt so trusted when a dear friend of mine came out to me as transgendered because she knew somehow that I would understand and accept her if only she could find her courage and her voice to tell me. The first thing I did was asked her to tell me her name. She kind of looked at me strangely, and I told her “I know what name you were given, but I want to know YOUR name. Because from now on, you’ve got to be who you know you are. And I love you. So I’m asking you again, what is your name?” By the time I finished this, we were both crying and hugging and being as close as two people can be emotionally outside of being in romantic love. Once the reality of this all sunk in, I knew I would never be the same and I was proud of myself that I could help open that door for someone I loved. Ever since then, I make it a habit of holding doors open - literally and metaphorically.

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