Is Gay the new Black?

advocate-cover-black Is Gay the new Black?

No.  Black is the new Nay.  


The Advocate had a potentially interesting cover story about African-American nay-saying to gay civil rights.  I say “potentially” because the story punted on its own premise.  You have to go two pages into the story before they actually say anything about the subject.  It’s yet another example of the magazine’s  ongoing struggle with publishing bulimia–Binging on a delicious topic, then throwing it up before it’s fully digested.

But enough about why the magazine’s so thin you could mistake it for a brochure.  Truth is, it’s a very provocative title.  Some excerpts:

 

 

 

“Gay is the new black in only one meaningful way. At present we are the most socially acceptable targets for the kind of casual hatred that American society once approved for habitual use against black people…

Except in a few statistically insignificant cases (the gay kid who happens to be the child of gay parents), being gay begins with recognizing your difference from the people with whom you have your earliest, most intimate relationships….

Our oppression, by and large, is nowhere near as extreme as blacks’, and we insult them when we make facile comparisons between our plights. Gay people have more resources than blacks had in the 1960s. We are embedded in the power structures of every institution of this society. While it is illegal in this country to fire an African-American without cause and in most places it’s still legal to fire a gay person for being gay, we are more likely to have informal means of recourse than black people have. Almost all gay people have the choice of passing. Very few black people have that option…”

 

Here’s the problem:  While these are all good points, does it matter?  Is black support for discrimination acceptable because there are differences between us?  Methinks the writer punted.  Instead of holding that part of the African-American population that supported Prop 8 accountable, he gave them a pass.  It’s almost like he’s apologizing to them:  ”Well, you know, we’re DIFFERENT, so you don’t have a moral obligation to stop what was done to you.”

 

By holding them accountable I don’t mean BLAME.  I mean holding a mirror up.  The way MLK did to that part of white America that objected to black civil rights.  Mirrors have a way of double-checking our self-perceptions.  If I were the editors of the Advocate, I would have put an African-American clutching his Yes on 8 ballot on the cover, looking into a mirror, and seeing George Wallace smiling back. 

Letter to African-Americans who voted for Prop 8

 

I know that many of you can’t shake a sense of déjà vu since your vote—you know, that feeling that you’ve witnessed or been part of something before.  Certainly, your vote had an eerie metaphorical familiarity—someone standing at the doorway of a great institution, protecting it from people who shouldn’t  be there.  But if the rest seems a little fuzzy it’s probably because you’re confused about the role you played.  

See, you thought you were God’s warrior defending the institution of marriage from gay people.  But really, you were George Wallace blocking the entrance to the University of Alabama.  

governor_george_wallace_stands_defiant_at_the_university_of_alabama1 Letter to African-Americans who voted for Prop 8

In 1963, Governor George Wallace stood at the door of Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama in a symbolic attempt to block two black students, Vivian Malone and James Hood, from enrolling at the school.  He used the same arguments to keep you out of school that you used to keep us out of marriage.  He used the same logic.  He even used the same language.

schoolintegration17 Letter to African-Americans who voted for Prop 8

I’m sure many of you are looking for a way to shake that awful feeling you’ve revisited a shameful part of history.  I think there is, but it requires going further into that awful feeling, further into that history.  

As many of you know, George Wallace, one of the biggest racists who ever lived, at some point, stopped, and saw your humanity.   At some point he stopped and thought, “I have no right to take your rights away.”  At some point he stopped and said, “I’m sorry.  I was wrong.” And devoted his life to undoing his deeds.

My guess is that if you want that unsettling feeling to go away, you probably need to complete your experience of deja vu and act more like the guy who once stood in the doorway of a great institution to stop you from coming in.

 

Sincerely,

Everyone Who’s Been Locked Out for No Good Reason

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