Chicago Gay Pride 2009 - A Lesson in Pride, Joy, and Activism
I have always been proud of who I am... perhaps to a fault. I guess it was ingrained in me very early as a child. My mother always told me I could be anything I wanted to be as long as I put my mind to it. She said I was blessed to be born in a free country with an able body and a strong mind, and that if I worked hard enough and believed in myself, there was nothing that could stop me. And I believed her. I still do.
So I strove at an early age to be the best person I could be... and was proud of myself for it. Sometimes my pride was warranted - like when I won a spelling bee, or played well in a baseball game - but other times it wasn't.
I remember clearly in fourth grade when I was proud that my volcano entry won 2nd place in its category, and was showing off my ribbon to friends, only to be reminded by my teacher that there were only two entries in that category and mine was last. In reality, my volcano was poorly done and I didn't spend a lot of time or effort working on it. Had there been other entries in that category, mine certainly would still have been last.
It was a simple lesson, but an important one. Pride must be coupled with accomplishment (or at least effort)... otherwise it is merely conceit.
As I grew older, my personal sense of pride changed. While I was still proud of my abilities and many of my accomplishments, I wasn't necessarily proud of who I was. I had the usual identity crisis that all teens go through... "who am I?", "who do I want to be?", "am I cool?", "am I popular?", "do people really like me?", "where do I fit in?", etc...
But I had another identity crisis brewing that was far more distressing. It could be summed up with one question... "am I gay?". This notion certainly didn't make me feel proud. In fact, it was quite the contrary. The thought consumed me with shame and self-loathing.
Fast forward to adulthood. Long after I accepted my sexual identity and reconciled my inner conflicts, David and I attended our first Chicago Gay Pride Parade. We went with some friends, and had a really good time seeing the variety of people and the crazy costumes (or lack thereof). Plus, it was a great excuse to party in a massive gay-friendly environment!
So did I feel proud? I guess a little. But something was missing...
Truthfully, I couldn't quite grasp why I should feel proud about being gay. It's not that I was ashamed - I had shed that feeling long ago - but where was the sense of accomplishment? What did I do that should make me feel proud?
The answer is nothing. As I've shared in previous blogs, I never made the choice to be gay. I simply accepted it. Therefore, I should feel no more pride about being gay than a heterosexual should about being straight. In fact, I've been disgusted at times by the swagger I've seen when straight guys have boasted about their heterosexuality and sneered at the queers they saw as their inferiors. They clearly had a false sense of pride - nothing more than blatant conceit.
From my perspective, it was hypocritical to express pride in my sexual identity while condemning my heterosexual counterparts for doing the same. So I put Gay Pride on my lengthy list of 'good excuses to party', and left it at that.
It wasn't until David and I were in New York a couple years ago, and we stopped in a bar called Stonewall Inn, that I gained a deeper appreciation for what Gay Pride is really about. There were pictures and stories of a time not long ago that touched me on a personal level.
As many readers already know, Stonewall was the genesis of the Gay Pride movement. On June 28, 1969 (when I was 6 weeks old), police raided that very same tavern. The establishment was a known hang-out for a wide variety of down and out members of the gay community. Frustrated by persistent persecution from local police, and galvanized by other causes that appeared to be gaining traction through activism and civil disobedience, the LGBT community stood up and said 'enough is enough'.
After the police raid, local residents gathered to protest, and it quickly escalated into a full-blown riot. Additional protests ensued in the following days and weeks. Ultimately, the community organized for action, and the gay rights movement was born. They established neighborhood safe-havens that allowed LGBT people to gather without fear of persecution, and formed the foundation of a unified LGBT community in New York City.
One year later, marches were organized in several major cities around the country to commemorate the courageous stand taken in New York. These marches continued in subsequent years and have grown into the world-wide celebration we now know as Gay Pride.
This year, as I've deeply explored my personal experience as a gay man, I've also challenged my perceptions about Gay Pride.
First, I have a huge amount of respect and admiration for the men and women in Greenwich Village who 40 years ago had the courage and conviction to stand up and demand equal rights. The sexual revolution that was well under way at that time did NOT extend to the LGBT community. They were far more oppressed than I can even imagine, and those early protestors should be praised and honored for their pivotal fight for civil rights.
Likewise, I have great respect for the legions of men and women who have continued to carry the banner year after year to ensure our voices are heard. While we as a community still have a ways to go, our issues today pale in comparison to what they had to contend with four decades ago. Our rights have evolved tremendously since those dark days, and we as a community should be proud of that journey.
A primary purpose of the Gay Pride Parade is to pay respect to the brave men and women who led the march for LGBT civil rights, and who continue to do so today. Let's not forget that.
Second, when I think back to my formative years - and the dire conflict I experienced between wanting to live with pride and dignity, and the moritifying shame of my sexuality - I realize there must be so many people in our society who lost that very same conflict. Sexual identity is such a part of your core being, it's often hard to distinguish the two. I imagine many LGBT people have a low self-worth because society has convinced them that their personal identity is measured by their sexuality. The truth is, sexual identity should not be part of the equation at all.
As such, I do not believe Gay Pride is about being proud of your sexual identity. Having pride in your sexuality is a delusion, in my opinion. Real pride comes from your actions and your accomplishments, not your assets. I have no more pride in the fact that I'm gay than I do in being male, white, or brown-eyed.
I believe that Gay Pride is about being proud of who you are... period. It's about knowing you can be anything you want to be if you put your mind to it... it's about living your life with pride and dignity as a human being... it's about telling the rest of society that you will NOT be judged by your sexuality... it's about shouting to the world:
I AM PROUD OF WHO I AM, AND I AM GAY.
That's what Gay Pride means to me.
You know, it struck me when I watched this year's parade - with a new set of eyes - that there is a reason the word "pride" is so often accompanied with the word "joy". They really do go hand in hand. True happiness stems from self-worth... knowing who you are and being proud of it. Pride and joy are a mighty pair, and everyone should have the opportunity to know them.
I went to Chicago Pride this year with the express purpose of looking for real pride and real joy. I also looked for the spirit of activism that inspired the Gay Pride movement to begin with. I'm happy to report that I found all that I was looking for.
And better yet, I was able to capture a sense of that pride, joy, and activism through the lens of my camera. I hope you like it, and that it will inspire you to think about what Gay Pride means to you...
[tip: Watch this in HD mode...]
This year, I felt like I experienced Gay Pride in the way it was intended. I shared the sense of community, I reveled in the sheer expression of freedom, and I gained a renewed sense of pride in myself and in the LGBT community at large.
There is still a lot we have to do, and we will need continued support and activism from gays and straights alike to achieve real equality. But for now, I'm happy to pause in the moment and share with the world:
I AM PROUD OF WHO I AM, AND I AM GAY!
If you are interested in learning more about the history of Gay Pride, please do take the time to read about it in wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pride_parade . There is a wealth of information in there, of which I only shared a slice.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Lessons from a Gay Bar
When my partner David took me to my very first gay bar (15+ years ago), I knew exactly what to expect: a relatively small, dark, and smoky dance floor thumping with deafening techno music, a rhythmic array of multi-colored strobes and laser beams piercing through manufactured fog and bouncing off the countless mirrored surfaces of a giant disco ball, a writhing mass of hunky men with thick mustaches dirty dancing in barely crotch-length leather shorts and shimmering gold short-sleeve tops with deep v's showing off their hairy chests, flamboyant drag queens stumbling around in stilettos - sloshing pink martinis all over each other as they jostle for position to ogle the hot bods on the dance floor, spiky-haired biker chicks staking out their territory at the bar - arm wrestling over a pack of Lucky Strikes - staring you down as the one and only obstacle between you and the bartender, chattering clusters of cliques comprised of hair-dressers, fashionistas, choreographers, make-up artists and the like, dishing wildly (and simultaneously, I might add) about who was doing whom and what they were wearing, and perhaps a handful of highly buffed and waxed indian chiefs, police officers, construction workers, military men, and/or cowboys in glitzy disco garb rallying support for a rousing chorus of 'Y-M-C-A' . What else would you expect at a gay bar??
Of course, I fretted the entire way there. Not only was I lacking the wardrobe to pull off a look that was 'gay enough' for the gay bar, but I wasn't sure I really wanted to pull it off. I mean, even though I had come to terms with the fact that I was gay, and had taken some rather bold steps to proclaim my affection for David and to out myself to friends and family, I was really conflicted about the fact that I had to fundamentally change who I was to fit into my 'new lifestyle'. It simply wasn't me.
Yet here I was... on my way to my first gay bar with my new gay lover... about to flutter far from the comfort of my cocoon with untested and brightly colored wings... newly metamorphosed into something completely different... woefully under-dressed and decidedly over-stressed. Talk about putting pressure on myself! At least I had the drama part down.
Imagine the anti-climax as we stepped out of David's tan Saturn into the summer-scorched parking lot of a somewhat dated, highly stuccoed strip mall in the heart of Old Scottsdale, and worked our way to a back corner of the building where we found the small and unassuming entrance to BS West. Other than being a little hard to find at first, there really wasn't any indication that this place was any different than any other bar I had ever been to. In fact, there really wasn't anything special about it at all! There was no techno-thumping emanating from within. There were no drag queens draping the doorway in seductive poses, beckoning us to enter. There were no special hand signals or code words required to get by the doorman. Nothing! It was just a regular entrance to a small two-story bar that could have passed as any watering hole in Arizona.
Somewhat conflicted with a mixture of relief, surprise, disappointment, excitement, anxiety, and general perplexity, I clutched David for reassurance and ventured inside. Upon entering, I was immediately assuaged by the all-too-familiar and utterly disarming bubble gum backdrop of Cindy Lauper's 'Girls Just Want to have Fun'. Oh yes, it's true. And while it wasn't what I expected, it was most certainly appropriate. As I looked around, clad in my Levis and button-down oxford (with hints of pink that made it 'gay'), I saw scores of others who were sporting similar fashions, and was immediately confronted with the realization that I was not out of place in this bar. Not at all.
The first guys I set eyes on were fairly handsome thirty-somethings dressed in rugged jeans and Eddie-Bauer style shirts. They looked like average guys who just got off the construction site, and were meeting for a drink or two before heading home. Impossible. This is a gay bar for God's sake!
I whispered to David...
"Hey, what are those guys doing here?"
"Ummm..." he uttered, "...having drinks?"
"No... but why here? They're not gay."
"Ummmm... OK."
"And that guy... he looks like an accountant or something!"
"Ummmm... could be. (?)"
"And her... she looks normal. What's she doing here? Is that a lesbian??"
"Ummm... 'she' would be a guy..."
"A transvestite?! No way! She doesn't look anything like Liza Minelli or Elizabeth Taylor!"
David sighed with exasperation.
"OK... here we go..." I continued, "that guy's gay. I can totally tell by the highlights in his hair and the way he rolls his eyes and uses his hands when he talks."
"Ummmm... they're pretty much all gay, Scott. Really."
And so it went. As the night went on... little by little... my stereotypes and preconceptions about being gay were snuffed one by one. These were just regular people - who happened to be gay, lesbian, transsexual, or bi-sexual - out for drinks, laughs, and/or companionship just like anybody else at any other bar. Aside from the fact that there was clearly same-sex attraction in the air, and the mildly distracting flock of drag queens that strutted throughout the club, you really wouldn't guess that it was anything out of the ordinary. It struck me that for the most part these people weren't defined by their sexuality. It was just a part of who they were... nothing more, nothing less.
After I adjusted to the relative normalcy of the place, and my incessant and absurd line of questioning finally subsided, David and I settled into the part of the bar that best fit our lifestyle... at the pool table. It's funny, because that's where we always ended up at our regular neighborhood bar, and I never imagined that a gay bar would have pool tables too. Who'd've thunk it?
We ended up staying for several hours... had a few drinks, met other couples, and played pool most of the night. It was a lot of fun, and not at all what I expected.
As I reflected on the evening in the car on the way home with David, I felt warm and reassured. I finally had a glimpse of what my life would become as a gay man... confident in my sexuality, partnered with a wonderful (and patient) man, and free to be myself. And I liked it. I no longer felt like I had to behave a certain way to be accepted - by anyone. I didn't have to act like I was straight, nor did I have to act like I was gay. It turns out I could simply be me, and happen to be gay. What more could I want?
Lost in thought, musing about the future, I was suddenly pulled back to the present by a muffled commotion outside the car... like a brewing road rage coming to a boil. Our windows were rolled up, so at first the sounds were muffled, but I could distinctly hear angry voices... yelling. As I looked out the window to my right, my view was consumed by a big pick-up truck driving very closely next to us, and the driver's fist was pounding angrily on the side of his truck. Glancing upward, I made eye contact with a VERY angry jock with a severe crew cut and teeming with testosterone. He was screaming profanities at us. The truck swerved back and forth next to us, threatening to hit the car, and the driver was not alone. The cab contained a trio of angry young men who were all shouting, waving their fists, and threatening us vehemently.
At first, I thought perhaps we had accidentally cut them off in traffic or something. But as I listened more carefully, I started to comprehend what they were saying. DIE, YOU F$%KING FAGS! YOU AIDS MOTHER F$%KERS! WE'RE GOING TO KICK YOUR F$%KING ASS!
It was then that I realized I had been caressing the back of David's neck as he drove. I had been doing so ever since we left the bar, and these guys obviously didn't like that. I really hadn't thought about it. Normally, I would have been more careful about publicly displaying affection, but the experience at the bar had given me a different perspective - a new found confidence - one that was evidently misplaced and not without consequence.
Fortunately, we were on a main thoroughfare on a Saturday night, so there really wasn't too much these angry homophobes could do. After a litany of threats and profanities, they squealed off ahead of us with a profusion of middle-fingers and farewell curses. Had we been somewhere more remote with fewer witnesses, I have no doubt they would have forced us off the road and beaten us up - if not worse.
A little shaken but physically unscathed, David and I made our way home in tense silence. My hands stayed politely folded in my lap the entire way as I processed the events of the evening.
Ultimately my lesson(s) from the gay bar were ones that have lasted with me to this day.
First, LGBT people are as varied as society itself. If you go to a gay bar, you're bound to find the same assortment of personalities and lifestyles you would find at any straight bar. The only real difference is who goes home with whom.
Second, LGBT people don't frequent gay bars or reside in gay communities because we thrive on being different from the rest of society. No... we are simply looking for environments where we will be accepted and where we can feel safe... a place where we can caress our partner's neck without fear of being attacked. The reality is, there are enough angry homophobes out there to create a real concern for all of us who identify as LGBT. Just check out the video from my last blog if you don't believe me.
And third, a stereotype is nothing more than a caricature of reality and should be treated as such. Yes, stereotypes have some basis of truth... you bet. I could go to Boystown this weekend and find elements of all the personas I described earlier (as well as find the bars that cater to them); and truth be told, I might even share some quiet chuckles with my friends making inappropriate jokes at their expense. It's human nature. Let's face it, the root of all humor begins with some form of insult, and stereotypes were spawned for the sole purpose of serving up a punchline. Heck, we all do it... life would be awfully dull if we couldn't poke fun at each other and ourselves!
But if you can't get past the stereotype... if you're not willing to see people for who they really are rather than how you would like to see them... then you might want to do some reflecting of your own. Stereotypes of any kind open the door to the myths and misconceptions that surround them, and that's what ultimately leads to prejudice and bigotry. None of us starts out as a bigot, but it's a slippery slope and we're all perched precariously at the top of the hill.
Fifteen years ago, my view of gays was clearly misinformed and laughably juvenile. I had assimilated all the stereotypes I had ever heard, and applied them with a broad brush to an entire community. As crazy as it seems, these caricatures influenced the way I viewed and treated LGBT people in general. It wasn't until I literally stepped across that threshold and saw the world through a different lens that I recognized the error of my ways.
As for the angry jocks that verbally assaulted us on the way home, I can only hope they eventually saw the light too. Societal views about gays have evolved quite a bit since then, and hopefully theirs did too. Life is too short to live with such anger and contempt. Live and let love, I say.
Of course, I fretted the entire way there. Not only was I lacking the wardrobe to pull off a look that was 'gay enough' for the gay bar, but I wasn't sure I really wanted to pull it off. I mean, even though I had come to terms with the fact that I was gay, and had taken some rather bold steps to proclaim my affection for David and to out myself to friends and family, I was really conflicted about the fact that I had to fundamentally change who I was to fit into my 'new lifestyle'. It simply wasn't me.
Yet here I was... on my way to my first gay bar with my new gay lover... about to flutter far from the comfort of my cocoon with untested and brightly colored wings... newly metamorphosed into something completely different... woefully under-dressed and decidedly over-stressed. Talk about putting pressure on myself! At least I had the drama part down.
Imagine the anti-climax as we stepped out of David's tan Saturn into the summer-scorched parking lot of a somewhat dated, highly stuccoed strip mall in the heart of Old Scottsdale, and worked our way to a back corner of the building where we found the small and unassuming entrance to BS West. Other than being a little hard to find at first, there really wasn't any indication that this place was any different than any other bar I had ever been to. In fact, there really wasn't anything special about it at all! There was no techno-thumping emanating from within. There were no drag queens draping the doorway in seductive poses, beckoning us to enter. There were no special hand signals or code words required to get by the doorman. Nothing! It was just a regular entrance to a small two-story bar that could have passed as any watering hole in Arizona.
Somewhat conflicted with a mixture of relief, surprise, disappointment, excitement, anxiety, and general perplexity, I clutched David for reassurance and ventured inside. Upon entering, I was immediately assuaged by the all-too-familiar and utterly disarming bubble gum backdrop of Cindy Lauper's 'Girls Just Want to have Fun'. Oh yes, it's true. And while it wasn't what I expected, it was most certainly appropriate. As I looked around, clad in my Levis and button-down oxford (with hints of pink that made it 'gay'), I saw scores of others who were sporting similar fashions, and was immediately confronted with the realization that I was not out of place in this bar. Not at all.
The first guys I set eyes on were fairly handsome thirty-somethings dressed in rugged jeans and Eddie-Bauer style shirts. They looked like average guys who just got off the construction site, and were meeting for a drink or two before heading home. Impossible. This is a gay bar for God's sake!
I whispered to David...
"Hey, what are those guys doing here?"
"Ummm..." he uttered, "...having drinks?"
"No... but why here? They're not gay."
"Ummmm... OK."
"And that guy... he looks like an accountant or something!"
"Ummmm... could be. (?)"
"And her... she looks normal. What's she doing here? Is that a lesbian??"
"Ummm... 'she' would be a guy..."
"A transvestite?! No way! She doesn't look anything like Liza Minelli or Elizabeth Taylor!"
David sighed with exasperation.
"OK... here we go..." I continued, "that guy's gay. I can totally tell by the highlights in his hair and the way he rolls his eyes and uses his hands when he talks."
"Ummmm... they're pretty much all gay, Scott. Really."
And so it went. As the night went on... little by little... my stereotypes and preconceptions about being gay were snuffed one by one. These were just regular people - who happened to be gay, lesbian, transsexual, or bi-sexual - out for drinks, laughs, and/or companionship just like anybody else at any other bar. Aside from the fact that there was clearly same-sex attraction in the air, and the mildly distracting flock of drag queens that strutted throughout the club, you really wouldn't guess that it was anything out of the ordinary. It struck me that for the most part these people weren't defined by their sexuality. It was just a part of who they were... nothing more, nothing less.
After I adjusted to the relative normalcy of the place, and my incessant and absurd line of questioning finally subsided, David and I settled into the part of the bar that best fit our lifestyle... at the pool table. It's funny, because that's where we always ended up at our regular neighborhood bar, and I never imagined that a gay bar would have pool tables too. Who'd've thunk it?
We ended up staying for several hours... had a few drinks, met other couples, and played pool most of the night. It was a lot of fun, and not at all what I expected.
As I reflected on the evening in the car on the way home with David, I felt warm and reassured. I finally had a glimpse of what my life would become as a gay man... confident in my sexuality, partnered with a wonderful (and patient) man, and free to be myself. And I liked it. I no longer felt like I had to behave a certain way to be accepted - by anyone. I didn't have to act like I was straight, nor did I have to act like I was gay. It turns out I could simply be me, and happen to be gay. What more could I want?
Lost in thought, musing about the future, I was suddenly pulled back to the present by a muffled commotion outside the car... like a brewing road rage coming to a boil. Our windows were rolled up, so at first the sounds were muffled, but I could distinctly hear angry voices... yelling. As I looked out the window to my right, my view was consumed by a big pick-up truck driving very closely next to us, and the driver's fist was pounding angrily on the side of his truck. Glancing upward, I made eye contact with a VERY angry jock with a severe crew cut and teeming with testosterone. He was screaming profanities at us. The truck swerved back and forth next to us, threatening to hit the car, and the driver was not alone. The cab contained a trio of angry young men who were all shouting, waving their fists, and threatening us vehemently.
At first, I thought perhaps we had accidentally cut them off in traffic or something. But as I listened more carefully, I started to comprehend what they were saying. DIE, YOU F$%KING FAGS! YOU AIDS MOTHER F$%KERS! WE'RE GOING TO KICK YOUR F$%KING ASS!
It was then that I realized I had been caressing the back of David's neck as he drove. I had been doing so ever since we left the bar, and these guys obviously didn't like that. I really hadn't thought about it. Normally, I would have been more careful about publicly displaying affection, but the experience at the bar had given me a different perspective - a new found confidence - one that was evidently misplaced and not without consequence.
Fortunately, we were on a main thoroughfare on a Saturday night, so there really wasn't too much these angry homophobes could do. After a litany of threats and profanities, they squealed off ahead of us with a profusion of middle-fingers and farewell curses. Had we been somewhere more remote with fewer witnesses, I have no doubt they would have forced us off the road and beaten us up - if not worse.
A little shaken but physically unscathed, David and I made our way home in tense silence. My hands stayed politely folded in my lap the entire way as I processed the events of the evening.
Ultimately my lesson(s) from the gay bar were ones that have lasted with me to this day.
First, LGBT people are as varied as society itself. If you go to a gay bar, you're bound to find the same assortment of personalities and lifestyles you would find at any straight bar. The only real difference is who goes home with whom.
Second, LGBT people don't frequent gay bars or reside in gay communities because we thrive on being different from the rest of society. No... we are simply looking for environments where we will be accepted and where we can feel safe... a place where we can caress our partner's neck without fear of being attacked. The reality is, there are enough angry homophobes out there to create a real concern for all of us who identify as LGBT. Just check out the video from my last blog if you don't believe me.
And third, a stereotype is nothing more than a caricature of reality and should be treated as such. Yes, stereotypes have some basis of truth... you bet. I could go to Boystown this weekend and find elements of all the personas I described earlier (as well as find the bars that cater to them); and truth be told, I might even share some quiet chuckles with my friends making inappropriate jokes at their expense. It's human nature. Let's face it, the root of all humor begins with some form of insult, and stereotypes were spawned for the sole purpose of serving up a punchline. Heck, we all do it... life would be awfully dull if we couldn't poke fun at each other and ourselves!
But if you can't get past the stereotype... if you're not willing to see people for who they really are rather than how you would like to see them... then you might want to do some reflecting of your own. Stereotypes of any kind open the door to the myths and misconceptions that surround them, and that's what ultimately leads to prejudice and bigotry. None of us starts out as a bigot, but it's a slippery slope and we're all perched precariously at the top of the hill.
Fifteen years ago, my view of gays was clearly misinformed and laughably juvenile. I had assimilated all the stereotypes I had ever heard, and applied them with a broad brush to an entire community. As crazy as it seems, these caricatures influenced the way I viewed and treated LGBT people in general. It wasn't until I literally stepped across that threshold and saw the world through a different lens that I recognized the error of my ways.
As for the angry jocks that verbally assaulted us on the way home, I can only hope they eventually saw the light too. Societal views about gays have evolved quite a bit since then, and hopefully theirs did too. Life is too short to live with such anger and contempt. Live and let love, I say.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Gay Myths = Violence Against Gays
To date in my blogsperience, I've explored a variety of gay myths and have done my best to debunk them. My main purpose has been to highlight the fact that these myths are nothing more than ignorant perceptions about what it means to be gay, and ultimately demean all of us who identify as LGBT.
But it's more than that. Myths about gays cause fear... fear that we will exploit your children, threaten your sexuality, and ultimately corrode societal values. Obviously these fears are unfounded, but they exist. Think about it. Fear is the root of the controversy around gay marriage. Fear is the heart of the angst around gays in the military. And fear is the genesis of hate.
While you may not recognize it at its face value, hate against the LGBT community abounds. Sometimes it is couched in sarcasm or hidden in innuendo, but it is often even more blatant. Attend any gay pride parade or street fair in the gay district of any major municipality, and you will find religious protestors angrily condemning our kind and spewing vile and dire warnings. For people who profess to be followers of Jesus, their actions couldn't be further from the tenet of 'love thy neighbor'.
If it were only the taunts and jaunts of religious extremists, or the not-so-subtle jabs of the jock culture that fuels our society's 'man-laws', I could probably quietly and honorably live as a gay man with a heap of self-assurance and only a modicum of contempt. But I can't. You see, hate is more than taunting. Hate breeds violence. And that I cannot accept.
According to 2007 FBI hate crime statistics, violence against the LGBT community ranked third, only behind race and religion. Violence based on race was by far the highest percentage (52%), but religion and sexual orientation were nearly equal at 17.1% and 15.9% respectively. Keep in mind that several states still do not recognize sexual orientation as a basis for hate crimes. Even in states that do, it is widely speculated that these crimes are grossly under-reported. Hence, the numbers are probably under-stated.
So what to do? The fact is, statistical facts don't really tell the story. Every day, in every country and every city around the world, the LGBT community is victimized by violence. And it's not just a vague concept of 'attacks against the community'. These are real people who are subjected to real violence. The only way to appreciate the injustice that happens each and every day is to experience real-life situations.
See for yourself. Embedded in this blog is a video that highlights just a few examples of gays, lesbians, and trangenders who were killed simply because of their sexual identity. Watch the video. Experience it. Imagine that these people are your family... your loved ones. Nobody deserves to be subjected to these kinds of atrocities. And no one should stand on the sidelines to let it happen.
Myths cause fear... fear leads to hate... hate breeds violence. Stop the myths. End the violence.
But it's more than that. Myths about gays cause fear... fear that we will exploit your children, threaten your sexuality, and ultimately corrode societal values. Obviously these fears are unfounded, but they exist. Think about it. Fear is the root of the controversy around gay marriage. Fear is the heart of the angst around gays in the military. And fear is the genesis of hate.
While you may not recognize it at its face value, hate against the LGBT community abounds. Sometimes it is couched in sarcasm or hidden in innuendo, but it is often even more blatant. Attend any gay pride parade or street fair in the gay district of any major municipality, and you will find religious protestors angrily condemning our kind and spewing vile and dire warnings. For people who profess to be followers of Jesus, their actions couldn't be further from the tenet of 'love thy neighbor'.
If it were only the taunts and jaunts of religious extremists, or the not-so-subtle jabs of the jock culture that fuels our society's 'man-laws', I could probably quietly and honorably live as a gay man with a heap of self-assurance and only a modicum of contempt. But I can't. You see, hate is more than taunting. Hate breeds violence. And that I cannot accept.
According to 2007 FBI hate crime statistics, violence against the LGBT community ranked third, only behind race and religion. Violence based on race was by far the highest percentage (52%), but religion and sexual orientation were nearly equal at 17.1% and 15.9% respectively. Keep in mind that several states still do not recognize sexual orientation as a basis for hate crimes. Even in states that do, it is widely speculated that these crimes are grossly under-reported. Hence, the numbers are probably under-stated.
So what to do? The fact is, statistical facts don't really tell the story. Every day, in every country and every city around the world, the LGBT community is victimized by violence. And it's not just a vague concept of 'attacks against the community'. These are real people who are subjected to real violence. The only way to appreciate the injustice that happens each and every day is to experience real-life situations.
See for yourself. Embedded in this blog is a video that highlights just a few examples of gays, lesbians, and trangenders who were killed simply because of their sexual identity. Watch the video. Experience it. Imagine that these people are your family... your loved ones. Nobody deserves to be subjected to these kinds of atrocities. And no one should stand on the sidelines to let it happen.
Myths cause fear... fear leads to hate... hate breeds violence. Stop the myths. End the violence.
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