CONFESSION: My blog, my soapbox! As some of you may know, today is the National Equality March in Washington, DC. M & I intended to head out there and participate, as well as celebrate a traditional Canadian Thanksgiving with the lovely and talented Trixie From Toronto, but life got in the way (as life is wont to do). Still, a small-yet-fierce contingency of our friends are marching proudly today, and we’re there in spirit. Some of you may also have watched or listened to our President’s speech at the HRC dinner last night, in which he promised to sign the federal hate crimes legislation this week, to end Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and he urged Congress to repeal DOMA, etc. You can watch it online just about anywhere, but here’s the first of two parts:
A friend asked if I thought it was as amazing as she’d heard it was. I said that sure, in some ways it was, with reservations. You can only hear so many wonderfully supportive things so many times before you begin to listen with a cautious ear, and looking for tangible follow-through.
One thing that got under my skin more than I expected was the language around “impatience” – can’t exactly recall whether it was Obama’s or HRC’s or both – which, to me, suggests a sort of unsubstantiated, negative outcry for equality, rather than honoring and acknowledging the untold numbers of LGBT folks that this is all much too late for, you know? That any future action taken, however positive or revolutionary or history-making, can’t give them those minutes, days or years of their lives back, no matter what. That bothers me a lot. The lack of respect for that fact.
I want to know that our President knows he hasn’t got a carte blanche to tell us to be patient indefinitely. We want quantifiable, measurable progress and / or some sort of timeline, which isn’t unreasonable. Intent, intent, intent with little or no follow-through and this ridiculous hemming and hawing is exactly what he pledged to radically change in his inaugural speech, so specifics would be nice.
Also, I’d love to watch an old Clinton speech of comparable import and see how they differ or not.
Here’s a pretty good, albeit quite heated, post-speech breakdown of why I’m not jumping up and down:
PS. M, for the record, said that his speech “felt like a handjob.” Harsh, but maybe also kind of true.
PPS. Just got a text message from my friends in DC. It says, “ZOMG! LADY GAGA!” Ha!
Confession: The bad news early this week, combined with needing a vacation from my Memorial Day holiday weekend minibreak made for a pretty quick and painful week. I’ve been devouring articles on the Prop. 8 fallout, working like mad and oscillating between feeling angry and despairing or feeling all the more empowered and inspired to do something about marriage equality.
We know the country faces many serious challenges and we have strived to be patient. We’ve waited for the slightest sign you would live up to your promise to be a “fierce advocate” for our equal rights while watching gay and lesbian members of the armed forces, who have never been more needed, get discharged from the military. And so far you have done nothing. No stop loss order. No call to cease such foolish and discriminatory actions that make our nation less safe.
You pledged to repeal the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, Mr. President. You promised to support a “complete repeal” of the so-called Defense of Marriage Act and pledged to advocate for legislation that would give same-sex couples the 1,100+ federal rights and benefits we are denied, including the same rights to social security benefits. You said, “Federal law should not discriminate in any way against gay and lesbian couples.”
I am appalled to the point of feeling literally faint with horror and disbelief upon reading this article by Andrew Sullivan of The Atlantic, and here is an excerpt from it:
Here we are, in the summer of 2009, with gay servicemembers still being fired for the fact of their orientation. Here we are, with marriage rights spreading through the country and world and a president who cannot bring himself even to acknowledge these breakthroughs in civil rights, and having no plan in any distant future to do anything about it at a federal level. Here I am, facing a looming deadline to be forced to leave my American husband for good, and relocate abroad because the HIV travel and immigration ban remains in force and I have slowly run out of options (unlike most non-Americans with HIV who have no options at all).
And what is Obama doing about any of these things? What is he even intending at some point to do about these things? So far as I can read the administration, the answer is: nada. We’re firing Arab linguists? So sorry. We won’t recognize in any way a tiny minority of legally married couples in several states because they’re, ugh, gay? We had no idea. There’s a ban on HIV-positive tourists and immigrants? Really? Thanks for letting us know. Would you like to join Joe Solmonese and John Berry for cocktails? The inside of the White House is fabulous these days.
Yesterday, Robert Gibbs gave non-answer after non-answer on civil unions and Obama’s clear campaign pledge to grant equal federal rights for gay couples; non-answer after non-answer on the military’s remaining ban on honest servicemembers. What was once a categorical pledge is now – well let’s call it the toilet paper that it is.
I’m just at a loss to say anything further, but there was one small triumph, one small thing that I could do this week to feel less powerless, so I decided to change my legal name. While M & I discussed it long ago and I’d been meaning to get around to it, on Wednesday I marched into the Social Security Administration offices in Oakland and demanded a legal name change with my marriage certificate in hand. And what do you know, less than five minutes after I stomped into there, I floated out with my receipt in hand, officially Mrs. M. FFAF Tomboy. The next and final step as far as officious bureaus and things are concerned was the DMV, and they asked that I return either after 72 hrs. to verify the SSA change electronically, or once I have my newly issued SSN card in hand, so I’ll do that as soon as it comes in the mail. In the meantime, the change feels FANTASTIC! I love it. In a way, I’m glad I’d procrastinated on taking care of it, because it was somewhat healing and empowering to do it this way, at this time, in response to those cowardly opinions.
Finally, in No More Mr. Nice Gay in The Huffington Post, Michael Rowe beautifully captures the three historical pillars of social exclusion and here’s my favorite excerpt from that article (bolding mine):
The LGBT community isn’t demanding the first gay president…or a lesbian Supreme Court Justice. Yet. What they want, and what they’re fighting for is full membership in American society without the three historical pillars of social exclusion (especially for men): the ability to marry someone of their own choice, the ability to raise and protect a family, and the right to serve and defend their country in the military. If those aren’t “family values,” then “family values” don’t exist. LGBT people are not any threat to “the family.” They are the family: sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, husbands, wives. The joining of two families is one of the oldest rites in the history of the human race.
It’s time that the full rights of every American be fully enshrined and protected, and that the battle for those rights be acknowledged as this generation’s defining civil rights battle.
Below are a couple of really great, brief videos to watch if you can’t stand any more on the subject. The first is a video of the (gentle) arrests made on Tuesday in San Francisco immediately following the 10AM announcement. The second is a great TV commercial made by the Courage Campaign, and I closed out with some funny via a parody by The Defenders – it’s pretty awesome and first in a coming series.
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If you made it this far, I thank you and appreciate all the well wishes and sweet thoughts y’all have been passing our way. If any FFAF readers are going to Meet In The Middle tomorrow, I want to know ASAP!
You bet it is. Ever wonder what, exactly, lesbians are hiding in those closets of theirs?
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