GLBT Fortnight in Review, May 29, 2013
BY ANN ROSTOW
Pride! Again!
I write to you on the eve of Pride Month, capital P and capital M, our annual celebration of the Stonewall riots that started the modern gay rights movement back on June 28, 1969. Here in Texas, our celebration was so hot and so miserable for so many years that at some point we decided it was unsustainable. We now have our Pride event in September or October, on a date so random that I can’t even tell you which month it’s in. Even in the early fall, the days are still so hot that we have our parade at night.
And the whole event kind of pops up unexpectedly. Some friend will call and ask whether we want to meet for cocktails and watch the festivities from the roof of some 6th Street bar. Oh! Is tonight Pride, we ask? When does it start? Last year, we arrived at 5. Everyone had a different opinion on when the parade began. After threehours of drinking above the empty streets, we finally gave up and had a civilized dinner at an expensive downtown restaurant. (After all, it was Pride night!)
This is all to say that I have lost my connection to Pride. The real Pride, that is. The Pride that arrived on one special Sunday at the end of June when we all came together, young and old, male and female, rich and poor, black, white and brown, and took over the town. Manhattan in the late 1970s and early 1980s, San Francisco in the 1990s. It was tacky, exuberant, exhilarating. It had a rhythm, building throughout the afternoon towards a wild night of carousing. We bought junk, consumed mystery drinks, wore rainbow hats, stood up through the moon roof and ripped our shirts off, staggered down Seventh Avenue south, skinny dipped on Ocean Beach. We listened to speeches and cheered. We danced all day and all night.
And now? Now it’s a couple gin and tonics and we’re off to Trulucks for a dozen oysters and a bottle of white Cote de Rhone. What happened? Stranger still, I don’t even miss the original version of Pride. I really love oysters, air conditioning and a dark booth in an old restaurant. Plus, back in the day I couldn’t afford oysters. One time in New York, the only money we had was a healthy collection of nickels, dimes and quarters. We each took charge of one denomination, so every commercial transaction required a group effort of pulling out coins. Somehow, this stash sustained us through most of the day.
So, as I sit by the sidelines slurping Blue Points, I trust that all of you will do justice to Pride Month and Pride Day in the City by the Bay. I assume that President Obama will issue his usual Pride Proclamation, singing our communal praises and sounding a clarion call for justice. And of course, this year, we may actually have something real to cheer for: a High Court ruling or two that could compound the significance of late June for future historians of the LGBT movement. Hell, I might have to dig out my rainbow beads, put on one of my March on Washington T-shirts, fill up my giant plastic party drink tube with some imaginative concoction, grab my newly recognized spouse and parade down the streets of Austin alone in the 105 degree heat to mark the occasion.
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Why Do We Even Have to Cover This?
One of the big stories this week is the God damned Boy Scout vote. The story is irritating on several counts. First, I don’t know about you, but as far as I’m concerned, the Boy Scouts are very 20thCentury. They were behind the times when they fought us in the Supreme Court and “won” the right to discriminate as a private organization. Since that 2000 ruling, they have been disgraced. They have lost half their members. And they’ve lost countless partnerships with thoughtful municipalities and civic organizations. Now, years later, they deign to admit gay scouts and they expect us to give them a round of applause? I don’t think so.
Second, as you may know, these bozos decided to maintain their ban on gay scout leaders. Why? There can only be one rationale, and that would be the notion that gay scout leaders are there to prey on gay scouts. So I repeat. They want a round of applause for admitting the gay scouts while they persist in a policy based on the most pernicious stereotypes we face as a community? Again, I don’t think so!
And finally, when will the mainstream media start covering the gay rights movement with even a modicum of nuance? The Boy Scout story deserved coverage, simply based on the organization’s long history of intolerance. That said, this was not a big story. It’s not just me. Our community may find the Boy Scouts annoying, but we really don’t take them that seriously. It’s not that our community was pressuring the Scouts. The world itself was passing them by and they were finally obliged to catch up just a little. Yet from the coverage, you would have thought our movement had made a major breakthrough of some sort. Um, no.
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Sleepless in Springfield
So, as I write, the Illinois House of Representatives has three more days to call a vote on the marriage equality bill that passed the state senate in February. The long delay reflected the fact that we lacked the votes to pass marriage in the house, but lately we’ve been hearing reports to the contrary. Do we have the votes or not? Will the measure be called to the floor, or not? Will Illinois become the 13thstate to step into the bright light of equality, or not? Hell if I know, but I mention this because I don’t want Illinois to pass marriage equality tomorrow and have all you readers think I was living in a cave.
Meanwhile, the Nevada legislature passed a bill to put a marriage referendum on the ballot that could overturn the antigay language now soiling the Blackjack State’s constitution. Under state law, the measure must be passed by a successive legislature and subsequently put to a public vote. So although the news is nice, it’s not imminent. Plus, don’t forget there’s a federal marriage lawsuit now pending in the Ninth Circuit against both Hawaii and Nevada. It could be that the appellate courts will weigh in before the public has its say, although the ultimate question of marriage rights under federal law will await a Supreme Court decision. This combined Hawaii/Nevada lawsuit may wind up before the justices, assuming they push the meat of the Prop 8 case to the side of their plates as expected.
And what other marriage news is ripe for the picking this week? Well, some group is bent out of shape by that pro-gay marriage ruling in Brazil that I mentioned last time. As I said before, I don’t really understand the Brazilian court system and don’t feel like looking it up. Since that attitude has not evolved since my last column, I have no further comment on the situation other than to inform you that something positive happened in Brazil, and now apparently, it’s pissed off a bunch of people.
There’s also a provocative article in The Atlantic (and does The Atlantic publish any other kind?) that suggests gay couples have a thing or two to teach straight couples about marriage, only because we must rise above gender roles in our domestic lives. I found it fairly interesting and fairly obvious, but like most articles of this ilk it was salted with real life examples of Bill and Bob, Tammy and Jeff, Betty and Jane.
The problem with specific examples is that no couple is fully representative of their demographic. They’re just selected to fit the journalist’s scenario. Betty and Jane might transcend gender roles, but they also might simply be devoted to each other, the one factor that makes all the difference to couples of all orientations. There’s nothing provocative about that thesis, however.
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Kiss Me Kate
Bay Times founder Kim Corsaro has written an article in The Advocate about the 18-year-old Florida senior, Kaitlyn Hunt, who was charged last February with “lewd and lascivious battery on a child 12-16 years old” due to her relationship with her freshman high school girlfriend. According to Kate’s lawyer, the relationship began in November; Kate had turned 18 in August. According to other news sources, the girl ran away to live with Kate in January, at which point the girl’s parents blew the whistle and called in the cops.
The charge is a felony that carries jail time as well as the status of sex offender, which of course could pretty much ruin Kate’s life. Under Florida’s Romeo and Juliet law (which also covers same-sex romances) Kate could be charged with a lesser crime and avoid the sex offender label, but one legal analysis I read suggested that other states might not recognize the distinction and would treat her as an offender under their own state law. In mid-May, the state offered to drop the charge to some lesser type of battery, which would allow Kate to avoid prison time and (in theory) stay clear of sex offender status. However, Kate and her parents rejected that offer, arguing that even the lower charge could severely damage Kate’s future.
As we go to print, it’s not clear whether Kate will decide to fight the charges or whether the state will come through with a more acceptable plea deal. What is clear, however, is that teen relationships within a five-year age range should not be subjected to criminal penalties of any sort.
In some ways, this is not a case of discrimination only because boys and girls get nailed for these faux statutory rape type charges as well. Yet we have seen harsh attacks on youthful gay romances in the past, and for a long time most of the Romeo and Juliet statutes that protect young lovers did not apply to same-sex couples. So when gay teens fall under the criminal spotlight for what appears to be an innocent romance, alarm bells ring. Plus, although they claim to be free of bias, you can’t help but wonder if the parents of the younger girl would have taken a kinder view of a boyfriend. And maybe the state would have given a Romeo a break as well.
The case will play out in the days to come, and will likely be settled before Kate’s June trial date. Meanwhile, the social media attention has been massive, with Free Kate pages and petitions going viral around the globe.
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Vive La France
I was pleased to see that a lesbian movie won the top prize at the Cannes film festival. Yay! And speaking of France, they’re still marching in the streets of Paris to protest the dawn of marriage equality, but the deed is done. Meanwhile, the best tennis players in the world are starting to pound the red clay off their heels at Roland Garros, a signal that the long slog through cold hard serious months are about to give way to the glories of a hedonistic summer.
Much has been written about April in Paris, but in truth it can be a dismal time. Only in June does the city warm up. Even in the early rounds of the French Open you’ll see spectators in jackets and sweaters. But by the time the semi-finals come around, it will be 75 degrees and climbing in the City of Light. Vacation is around the corner, and I don’t mean a week on Long Island. We’re talking a month in Biarritz or Cap D’Agde, and another month of lazing around putting in half days at the office and taking three-day weekends because the other half of the staff is on vacation. Or so it was in the 1980s when for seven years I blew off two weeks of work to watch tennis with the full cooperation of my Gallic superiors, who did the same. And that was before our actual vacations even began.
