Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Dear Governor Christie

Dear Governor Christie -

Thank you for the statement you made on 770 WABC Radio denouncing Viki Knox's homophobic statements on Facebook and, allegedly, in school. Thank you for supporting an "examination of how that teacher conducts herself in the classroom."

Of her words you said, "I think that kind of example is not a positive one at all to be setting for folks who have such an important and influential position in our society. I'm really concerned about those kinds of statements being made." I couldn't agree more. I am concerned as well. You are the governor of our state and you hold an "important and influential position in our society" as well. This is why I'd like to point out that while your words are more subtle than Ms. Knox's, your opposition to marriage equality sends the same message. It is a message that says we, New Jersey's LGBT citizens, are different. It is a message that says that based solely on who we are, we will be barred from participating in society in the same way as our straight friends, parents, co-workers, brother and sisters. It is a message of inequality. We are not the only ones who get that message. To me, the most disturbing aspect of Viki Knox's Facebook tirade is that the law in our state, rather than rebuking her bigotry, confirms it.

Governor Christie, I urge you to reconsider your position on marriage equality. I urge you to consider the example you are setting.

Sincerely,

Roger I. Rosen

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Frank Kameny - American Hero

Frank Kameny, a hero of mine since I discovered him in college, passed away yesterday. Fittingly, Frank Kameny died on National Coming Out Day. A day, it can be argued, that Frank Kameny helped to make possible. While I never met Frank Kameny, I can’t help but feel connected to him. I can’t help but feel a direct link between Frank Kameny’s life and work and the fact that yesterday I had the opportunity to speak on behalf of HRC at a National Coming Out Day event sponsored by an astounding young man in a library in the middle of New Jersey. It was a remarkable event for two reasons – because it was remarkable to those who attended and because it was not remarkable to those who didn’t. The fact that a GLBT group can meet openly in a public library in the middle of New Jersey without so much as a raised eyebrow from passersby can be traced directly to a handful of notable people whose strength, courage, fortitude, fearlessness, vision and certitude launched a movement. Frank Kameny is – was - one of those people.
It is not without thought that I used Frank Kameny’s name repeatedly in the previous paragraph instead of surrendering to smoother-sounding pronouns. The least I can do is sacrifice the pace of a paragraph so that Frank Kameny’s name can be read and re-read - and hopefully remembered.
Sometimes the people who change the world aren't treated to a collective mourning when they die - a Facebook hand-wringing and cyber-competition for the title of Most Affected and Grief-Stricken. Sometimes they get neither a bowed head from the media nor impromptu pop-up memorials. It seems that Mr. Kameny’s passing has registered barely a blip on the media radar.
I fear that no one knows who Frank Kameny is. I fear that while we enjoy the fruits of his legacy everyday, he himself is already largely forgotten.
This was a man who did the unthinkable - he protested his discharge from the army – a discharge based solely on the fact that he was gay - and appealed his case all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. The court declined to hear the case and a lower court's ruling against him was upheld, but to dwell on the outcome would be missing the point entirely. He did this in the '50s!!! On his own. He was a gay activist when there were few gay activists. His anger predated Stonewall by a decade. He taught us that “gay is good” when gay was considered not only not good, but sick.
He had no apology in him.
He said, out loud, what no one was saying – what no one was even thinking. He marched when marching was truly dangerous. He laid a path where there had been no path. His courage made my own life easier and better. His courage made the lives of all GLBT people easier and better.
I am sad that he is gone, although at his age it can hardly be described as surprising.
I am profoundly sad that he seems to be largely forgotten.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Dear Rachel

In an interview she gave to the Hollywood Reporter, Rachel Maddow voiced her opinion on marriage equality:

"'I feel that gay people not being able to get married for generations, forever, meant that we came up with alternative ways of recognizing relationships,' she explains. 'And I worry that if everybody has access to the same institutions that we lose the creativity of subcultures having to make it on their own. And I like gay culture.'"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Rachel -

I am a 39 year old gay man. I am a huge fan of yours and while I agree with you on almost every issue, I have to tell you that I found your views on marriage equality short-sighted at best.

This isn't about the preservation of gay culture. This is about equality, and while I will certainly utilize my right to marry the instant I get it, it is ultimately not about my equality or your equality. To me, this about our gay children. Our gay children who should look forward in their lives and see as many choices, options and opportunities as their straight counterparts - who should not have to unlearn all they have been taught about themselves. I couldn't be prouder of my community for building families and defying laws and odds and norms. I look at those who came before me in utter awe - of their strength, their fearlessness, their creativity, their internal fortitude in knowing that there was nothing wrong with them when the world was telling them the exact opposite. But I want those who come after me to read about our history and our struggles - I don't want them to know firsthand. It is my most fervent wish that they not fully understand what it was to be gay way back when we could not get married; when we could not adopt and create families which received full protection under the law; when we could be fired from our jobs or evicted from our homes simply for being gay. Let there be a great, wide generational chasm! I wish for them an easier path than yours or mine. That's why, to me, marriage matters. It is the same reason that the repeal of DADT mattered. So that our children can look forward and see no difference.

I have heard from friends and now read your views that this lack of difference is worrisome. That it will lead to the end of gay culture. To that I say this:

I would gladly give away my sense of humor as I know it to not have felt tortured as a child when I knew I was gay and I "knew" it was "bad." I would gladly give away any creativity I have to never have been taught that parts of this world were closed off to me simply because of who I am. I am not worried about the loss of gay culture. I am worried about the loss of gay children at their own hands because they are being tortured at school and on the omnipresent internet. I am worried about the loss of gay adults at the hands of ignorant, angry people who see in the media their own hate dressed up as a difference of opinion; who see in our laws not a condemnation of their own fears and prejudices, but a reflection of them. I am not worried about the loss of the next great gay game changer if the reason that they are a game changer stems from their hesitation at holding their boyfriend's or girlfriend's hand in public, from their fear of kissing their significant other goodbye at an airport, from the loss of a natural sexual coming of age. If that is what creates gay culture, then I would just as soon give it all away so that our next generation can grow up average. Perhaps fewer of us will be special. Perhaps more of us will be happy.

Sincerely,

Roger Rosen