H8 and Love

A week ago, in the wee hours of April 14, 2010, a coward stole a rainbow flag, draped it over the wall of The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, & Transgender Community Center of New York City, and set it on fire. Tonight, at 5pm, approximately 350 people (that's my head count, not an official number) gathered on 13th Street in front of The LGBT Center to stand up to acts of hate and fear and cowardice and anger. As my friend Carl put it, we

stood with friends, in the rain, in solidarity with the LGBT community, as the Center was draped in new rainbow flags. It was beautiful, and loving, and angry.

There was anger and pain -- rage and anguish, even, that someone would come to our home, our haven, our place of rest and welcome and solidarity, and attempt to destroy a part of it, and our comfort and sense of sanctuary.

But there was also beauty, and love. Faces raised to let rain mingle with tears. Bright eyes and warm, friendly, welcoming smiles -- and hugs! -- peering from beneath umbrellas. Voices of the Youth Pride Chorus raised in song as they performed True Colors, with a special blessing from Cyndi Lauper. Powerful speeches made by elected representatives with the power -- and the voting history -- to make change happen. Spontaneous (and not-so-spontaneous) applause. Some laughter. And the unfurling of two brand new flags gracing our home, rippling with the eight original colors symbolizing sexuality, life, healing, sunlight, nature, art, harmony, and spirit.

But most of all, there was solidarity, and acceptance, and welcome, and a pervasive call for justice for all.

There was a sign language interpreter at the rally, who was translating all of the speeches and songs for the members of our community and guests who were hearing impaired. There was space reserved at the front of the space, with a clear view to the stage and podium, for those in wheelchairs or using other limited mobility devices. These two acts insured that everyone present -- especially the members of our community who are so often marginalized or forgotten -- were able to participate fully and equally.

There was explicit reference to a trial opening today over the death of José Sucuzhanay, a young Ecuadorian man murdered in 2008 by strangers who leapt out of an SUV and bludgeoned him to death in the street because they thought he was gay. There was a call to make The Center -- our home -- a place of welcome and safety for all people.  There was a call for its members to stand up in the face of every act of hate, whether perpetrated for reasons of sexuality, religion, race, creed, ethnicity, ableness, age, economic status, or some method of classification that we haven't yet deemed necessary.

And that last call is, for me, the most stunning.

I have said before that people are people, that equality means all. But I didn't actually understand the scope of the LGBT Equality movement with regard to that claim.  For the first time in history that I know of (and my knowledge is far from comprehensive, so someone correct me if I'm wrong), a socio-political movement is stating and accepting and owning the need to fight for equality not just for its own members, but on behalf of every person in the world. Wow.

Wow.

I have never been content with slow movement toward expected outcomes.

• We fought a horrible war over slavery (among other things) in this country 150 years ago, and yet racism and blind privilege and inequality and unfair treatment are rampant in every community. 
• 90 years ago, women were granted (granted, as if it were some form of gift rather than our due all along!) suffrage in the United States, yet gender stereotypes and outright discrimination and structural marginalization are so common and ingrained that many people don't even notice it. 
• The persecution and genocide of the Holocaust were enacted 70 years ago and embroiled the entire world in a war that changed our understanding of human nature, yet Antisemitism and religious persecution are rampant the world over.  (This is one of the things I struggle with most regularly, my barely-wavering distrust of Christianty and absolute rejection of evangelists from every denomination.)  
• The Stonewall Riots took place just over 40 years ago, and LGBTQ persons are still treated as second-class citizens under the law in this country, and subject to death-by-stoning-without-right-of-trial in dozens of other "civilized" nations.

I am not content to wait and work patiently on "the usual methods" of lobby and vote and wait for someone else to do the work. And today, I saw evidence that I'm not alone in this.  But, unlike those movements that have gone before -- suffrage in the 10s where leaders dismissed the black women as having "negative impact" on their claims, women's lib in the 70s where lesbians were ousted for the same reason -- we're not letting anyone wait out in the cold for their turn to yell. To cry. To welcome. To love.

I have never been more proud to stand with my friends, in the rain, in solidarity, in love, beautiful, and angry.


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