The Usual Suspects: Abortion and Gays

History has been swirling all around us these past few weeks.  It’s been created, changed, and dramatically altered all at once.  In the wake of a jarring decision by the Supreme Court Tuesday, which effectively gutted America’s landmark and protective Voting Rights Act of 1965, we’re on the eve of yet another string of historic and possibly life changing Supreme Court decisions. 

On Wednesday, June 20, 2013, the Supreme Court will rule on the Defense of Marriage Act, which prohibits the recognition of same-sex marriage by the federal government and also allows states to ignore same-sex marriages legally performed in other states in Windsor v. United States; and it will also determine California’s Proposition 8 case, which was a referendum where voters overturned California’s law which made marriage equality legal in California (the lower court has ruled that the Prop 8 is unconstitutional and violates CA’s equal protection clause). 

And while I’m cautiously optimistic about how they’ll rule – DOMA will get overturned and be left to the states; Prop 8 will be a very narrow decision but ultimately uphold the lower courts decision are my guesses – there is still such shit going on in the world.  As I write this, an amazing Texas State Senator by the name of Wendy Davis is filibustering a bill in the Texas state senate which would severally limit women’s health options and access to abortion in the state of Texas, forcing 37 of its 42 women’s health clinics that provide abortion services to close.  She has been speaking since 12:18 Texas time. 

Texas has arcane and annoying filibuster rules, but among the general you are not allowed to sit or lean, eat, drink or use the restroom, or stop talking about the subject of which you’re filibustering.  If the topic on which you’re speaking is not germane to the bill you’re filibustering, a warning is issued; you only get three warnings.  Then you’re done.  So this forces the opposition to stay tuned in, to try to trip up the filibusterer.  The person can also yield to questions. 

I'd been tuning in on and off since this afternoon.  At one point, a female GOP legislator rose to see if the speaker would yield for questions.  When Ms. Davis refused to yield her time for questions, the GOP female senator spat back “not even for a woman who is also a physician?”  Nope.

After more time, she was told she was no longer discussing something that was germane to the topic of the filibuster.  She was discussing sonograms – in the context of pregnant women and access to abortions.  And she was told it was off topic.  And yet Republican after Republican has made an effort to force sonograms on women who want to terminate a pregnancy, regardless of the reason.  And now they’re saying it is not germane.  My how the hypocrisy flies in Texas.

The people’s chaos erupted in the Senate chamber when the rule-changing Chair (President of the Senate for the time being) decided to dictate who he thought was in order, and why. 

In a stunning show of solidarity, the Democrats did everything they could to continue running down the clock as the rules were repeatedly broken.  And then Leticia Vande Putte (who arrived in the Senate chamber after burying her father the very same day)  raised a parliamentary inquiry.  After she was ignored on her previous question, she asked, in an additional parliamentary inquiry: “Mr. President, at what point does a female senator raiser her hand or voice to be recognized over the male colleagues in the room?”

It was stunning.  A total fucking mic drop.  And so true. 

She had been previously ignored when she was making a motion to adjourn a previous motion to table the appeal of the decision on the filibuster.  Confusing?  Yup.  But it’s important.

All these things add up.  Everyday we teach young girls and boys to respect each other, that they’re equal, and are their own being.   And yet as they age and see what the world is doing, women see their own body is constantly up for debate; members of the LGBT community are discriminated against and relegated to second-class citizenry.  That is wrong. 

No one likes abortion and in a perfect world – where access to contraception was unrestricted and free – the only need for an abortion would be in the case where the life of the mother is at stake.  But in a perfect world, you wouldn’t need that clause ‘cause the pregnancy would be perfect.  In a perfect world, where men didn’t rape women, you wouldn’t need a clause to allow raped women to get abortions, either.  And in a perfect world, legislators would stop telling doctors how to treat their patients through repressive, ignorant, and petty laws. 

But the world isn’t perfect. 

On Wednesday morning, shortly after 10:00 the voice of (I’m guessing) Chief Justice John Roberts will change millions of lives, for better or worse.  

I’ve always said that I was a feminist before I was a gayist.  Of course I’ve always been gay, but I found it easier to take the mantle for women's rights than about anything else when I was younger (meaning high school).  It was a social issue I was proud to stand for and by, and to loudly and unabashedly defend (thanks in large part to a now dear friend, Cathy Meiklem). 

The gay stuff came naturally (though not without a closet, of course), because it was in the same vein, we just didn't have the rights yet.  I’ve witnessed first hand -- and been a part of ground game operations -- tremendous advancements for lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people in this country.  And as everyone says: it’s all happened in such a short amount of time. 

I get annoyed when Senators and Representatives who voted for DOMA 17 years ago say they are now opposed to the law and it should be thrown out by the courts.  What made gay people different in the 90s?  Maybe they hadn’t met any gay people, 'cause you know, we’ve never been visible before.  

I’ve be glued to the SCOTUSblog each morning SCOTUS has come down with decisions.  That will happen again Wednesday.  The folks who run it are brilliant and amazing and should be awarded for their succinct and timely reporting on an institution that does things in an utterly traditional way.  I have no complaints about how SCOTUS issues its rulings and limits certain types of media inside the court house.  Patience are a virtue. I think it part of the reason I have such a love affair – sort of a painful one – with the Supreme Court.  It is almighty, even though it is an equal branch of government.  There is something in its luster, in its stature, that makes it grandeur than the other two.

Tonight, we still don’t know if the Texas Senate voted on SB5 illegally after midnight or if it voted on a motion to consider the vote for SB5.  Either way, it was a remarkable show of courage by Senator Davis and the team that was lined up behind her all day long in the name of women and families in the state of Texas and across the country. 

Thankfully, Wednesday will not bring a decision about restricting access to abortion from the Supreme Court.  But if we don’t keep up our diligence and continue to erupt in the peoples chaos, someday it will. 

It’s remarkable to me how I feel like I’ve a foot in two battles: one where we seem to be making great strides (LGBT rights) and the other that seems to be falling backwards (women).  I’m not giving up one-way or the other.  

There will always be work to be done, because the world just isn't perfect.

This Time's Different

This post rambles a bit, in part because I'm recovering.  A week ago I was recouperating from a weekend bender at Berghain in Berlin.  Today though, my recovery is emotional.  I spent my afternoon preparing for and being at the march and rally to end violence against the LGBTQ community in New York City.  This rally was magically organized by City Council Speaker Christine Quinn, the LGBT Center, and the NYC Anti-Violence Project, and was attended by nearly 2,000 people – all in 24 hours.  Social media is a blessing and a curse, that’s for sure. 

Early on Saturday, May 18, 2013, a gay man was brutally murdered in the West Village, a bastion of queer culture and bohemia since the founding of the modern gay rights movement in 1969 – and long before then, too.  With marriage equality on the books in 12 states and the District of Colombia, New York being the most populous of them all (sans CA because it’s on hold there right now pending the SCOTUS decision), and hate crime laws in what feels like almost everywhere now, it’s appalling to me that a man of 32 was gunned down for being gay.  In New York City.

This didn’t happen in Laramie or Baghdad or Kampala.  It happened in my backyard.  This man was murdered in a neighborhood in which I willingly and flauntingly cavort regularly, and in various mediums of clothing might I add. 

Marching down Greenwich Avenue, traversing east on Ninth Street, heading south on Fifth Avenue for a block, and making the turn to head back west on Eighth towards Avenue of the Americas where Marc Carson was shot in the face, I piped up to keep the chant of “Hey! Hey! Ho, Ho!  Homophobia’s got to go!” going.  Onlookers collected at every step; diners had stopped eating their meals and stood to watch, cheer, and take pictures; those with apartments took time to look down on to the sea of solidarity from their windows and balconies in the spirit of community. 

It was a solemn rally.   A girl and I joked that this was the quietest group of gays we’d ever encountered.  It was different, there’s no question about it.   But the chants filled in as we carried onward. 

I kept having flashbacks to the bibulous and errant times I’ve had on the blocks of the West Village.  I looked up, charmed by the architecture and tree lined streets.   The sun was setting gracefully; the humidity wasn’t so kind.   There was a cacophony of echoing chants and cheers.  The sound made its way up through verdant ginkgos and along red brick federal style facades to further thicken the air with a palpable, uneasy energy. 

The perp was caught a block from my favorite bar and a half block from where I probably would have been getting falafel at the time of the arrest on that Friday night.  To realize fully that this happened in a neighborhood where people of all stripes feel unabashedly comfortable is scary. 

Which is to say that processing this heinous act of violence isn’t easy.  People die every day in all different ways.  I was recently in Istanbul, where bombings have marred and slaughtered recently, and in eastern Turkey, people die daily in their fight for the claim of freedom.  And in Harlem, my neighborhood and home, people are often victims of gun violence.  Last summer, a 4 and a 9 year old were struck by bullets in the crossfire of a gunfight in Harlem (other such gunfights happened in other boroughs, too).  But that didn’t bother me: I still walked by the places where these shootings happened (a mere couple of blocks from my apartment) without hesitation or a shred less confidence. 

This time though, it’s different.  There was a target to this shooting.  Not one steeped in gang violence or drug money, lust or even the random act of shooting into a crowd (which happened in New Orleans recently).  That sordid, ignorant bullet could have been aimed at any one of my fabulous friends or me.  Just because we might be holding hands with a person of the same sex, or have really tight jeans on, or even some makeup (or none of those things at all – I’m stereotyping).  That’s why this is different.

And to think that just a week ago, I still had the eye makeup and nail polish on I’d donned to the club in Berlin because we were told to dress alternatively to get in the door at Berghain (and it worked). 

None of what I’ve said should lessen the deaths of any number of the millions who’ve died from bullets.  All those people are worth a whole lot, but, I’m not going to get into the gun debate here.  This is about stigma, it’s about targeting, and it’s about the need to bring down barriers.

A friend and colleague from another political office carried a sign with a jarring quote by the late Harvey Milk: “If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door in the country.”  Later, Milk met his fate by bullet in his office at the City Hall of San Francisco in 1978.   At the time, sure, Milk threw doors open for lots of folks.  But today, marriage equality and gender equity are leveling the playing field for LGBT Americans.  Granted, we’re behind a great number of countries in terms of equality across the board, but we’re getting there. 

Moments like this create a rallying cry for recognition, and for better or for worse, can galvanize a movement.   The fact is we’re all just human beings.  And whether you’re a Taiwanese lesbian or an Iranian homo (cause even though Ahmadinejad says there aren’t gay Iranians, there are – I’ve met some), you bleed like every other person on this earth, straight, transgender, bisexual, or otherwise. 

A lot of what I do in my day-to-day work is help people.  I have the pleasure of doing so on behalf of one of the most progressive members of the NY State Assembly, Dick Gottfried.  He represents Chelsea, Hells Kitchen, Midtown and part of the Upper West Side – all famously friendly neighborhoods for LGBT folks.  I like to joke that he has the gayest district in the world (and I get to work there!), which is unfounded, but debatable.  Had Dick not been in Albany for the legislative session, he surely would have been at the rally today.   The recent hate crimes in Manhattan happened in some of the gayest neighborhoods in America – including ones my boss represents.  How can that be? 

I don’t know, really.  I do know that we still have a major political party that puts me in the second class of society.  I do know that in schools across certain parts of this country, children and young adults are scolded for their thoughts or their love for a person of the same gender.  I do know that same-sex couples are not entitled to the same benefits of heterosexual couples by the federal government and that people are forced to die alone in hospitals even though they’ve had a partner for 30, 40, or 50-plus years.  This is disgusting and egregiously un-American. 

I marched today for myself and for millions of other LGBT persons here in New York City, in America, and around the world. 

This past weekend in Tbilisi, Georgia, a group of Orthodox priests lead a massive violent protest against a paltry number of gay-rights activists.   Nothing has happened to the hate-mongers so far, who used rocks, bats, garbage cans, and fists against the peaceful demonstrators.  This all sounds heinous and so third world, but isn’t a murder-by-bullet for being gay just as revolting?

Victory

            I have spent a good chunk of time over the past two weeks breaking into tears.  Some sessions last only a minute and shed a tear or two; maybe just a welling of water in the eyes.  Others have gone on for longer, with drops falling down my face.  Tears grown from frustration, lack of sleep, fear, and in the end: utter bliss. 

            A few months back I made a conscience decision to join the folks on the ground in Pennsylvania to re-elect President Obama.  I was hesitant at first, because there were places across the country I’d thought about going – where could I be the most effective?  Expanding the map in the West was most appealing to me, and I do love Colorado.  Marriage was on the ballot in three states, too, and one of them was Maine.  In 2009, I spent a month in the great cliff state, knocking doors, making phone calls, and talking to people about why marriage equality matters.  In the end, we lost that race by 5 points.  Fast forward to 11/6/12 and we reversed the numbers: equality reigned and we won by 5 points. 

            The thing about working a single-issue campaign is that you’re not working with party people.  You might not believe it, but I worked with Republicans in Maine who were for marriage.  I learned quickly to hold my partisan tongue. 

            I was called upon and lobbied by folks I’d met on the trail there to come back because they’d returned.  But I yearned for something grander.  So I dropped the holding of the tongue and went all in for the Democratic Party to secure the White House for another four years.  Fuck it.  I’m a party person.

The 44^th President is also the first sitting president to tell me that I’m equal.  He told me and millions of others that as gay and lesbian Americans, we’re worthy and indeed entitled to the same rights as our straight brethren.  And that to me held far greater weight than winning the rights in just one state.  Now sure, equality is a battle we’re waging town by municipality, county by state.  So in no way am I discrediting the great wins across the nation for marriage on 11/6.  And let’s note that there were three wins, HUGE wins, for marriage at the ballot box: Maine, Washington, and Maryland.  Minnesota rejected an anti-gay amendment to their state constitution – also a first in the nation.  But the national leader was in our boat, and he needed to be kept in office.

So I joined the national fight.

My friend Troy, whom I’d met on the marriage campaign in ’09, was tapped to direct Outer Alleghany County in Western PA.  It’s the whole county, sans Pittsburgh – which had its own team.  It’s crucial turf to securing the 20 Electoral College votes that PA awards when you win the state.  Pittsburgh and Philly turn out big and we buttress those votes by holding the line and pushing it blue in the suburbs on Election Day.  And that we did.

The team I worked with boosted county turn out from a standard 50% to 70% on Election Day this year.  That is remarkable.  And it’s one of the many reasons we won, and won by a solid 5 points. 

Pennsylvania is a unique state.  It’s always in the swing category because you have to fight for it.  It has not voted for a Republican president since 1988.  But it’s blue is not a given.  Romney had money, but didn’t have the ground game.  He also had the gall to show up after being absent for a month three times in the last four days of the election.  How cute. 

Another unique factor is that you’ve only got 13 hours to win it.  There is no early voting and it’s extraordinarily difficult to get an absentee ballot from.  They don’t like voters in the Keystone, and more so since they enacted an oppressive voter ID law.  So you’ve got to fight with what you’ve got and you do that by organizing.  You do so by talking, by planning, by out smarting and being ever prepared for the unexpected.  You knock doors until your knuckles are blue and people ignore you.  You go back to the same doors the next day in the rain, and maybe the next day, too, to make sure people realize just how important it is that they exercise their fundamental right to vote.  And do so on behalf of Barack Obama.

There was a wrench in this battle though, and her name was Sandy. 

There’s a saying, and I’m not sure where I got it, but it’s that Republicans vote come hell or high water and Democrats vote when it’s convenient.  The fear I had from the storm – bringing lots of high water – was that it would suppress Democratic turnout.  Thankfully, that didn’t happen.  It was in large part because of how long organizers had been engaged with voters whom they made realize just how important a role they had in determining the course of this country. 

Dealing with the storm was also particularly difficult for me.  New York City was a direct target of the storm, and it really hurt that I wasn’t there to help.  Everyone tells me how lucky I was to be spared by not being here, New York is my home.  Seventy percent of the people in the district my boss represents were without electricity, heat, and hot water; homes were flooded; lives upended.  These are people I know and have been working with for years.  Not to mention the friends who were in trouble.  While I was thanked profusely upon my return for helping to re-elect the President, it hurt that I wasn’t there to lend them a hand in their time of need.  Thankfully, I was distracted and kept busy by the campaign and an amazing team.  Even once we won, I was nervous to come back to New York.  I wasn’t sure what to expect and afraid of what might have changed. 

Which brings me to time.  A month is a pretty long time though it felt like only a day.  I decided to head to Philly for the close out and party.  Friends sent messages saying, “Are you coming back?  You won!”  And yes, I came back, but didn’t necessarily want to.  Campaigns only come around every so often and the people you work with are some of the most amazing people in the world.  Maybe it’s just because I’ve been working campaigns since before I could vote so know a lot of these types now, but still.  I’m reminded anew each time just how great people are who work to win for something you believe in.  It’s a familial thing.  You work to turn out crazy Americans to vote, but you’re all just as fucking crazy being the ones there day in and day out until 3, 4, or 5 in the morning, or sometimes just not going to bed at all.  It’s because there’s a deadline, and it’s set in stone. 

I’m so thankful to my boss and colleagues for letting me take the time off work to fight.  When I spoke to Dick the day after the Election Day, after we both calmed down about how many glorious victories there were, I thanked him again for letting me join the race.  He then thanked me for doing it, because it meant just as much to him as it did to me.  The same goes for my Chief of Staff and all my colleagues, they thanked me in the end and it means the world to me. 

We won.  We defended every Democratic Senate seat and picked up two more.  We gained seats in the house, and made sure rape continues to be recognized as an egregious and horrific act of violence – not some god created event to bear a child or being such thing as a legitimate or not.  We legalized marijuana in two states.  I call this a progressive cause for a couple of reasons: one of them being about choice.  And with pot legal, we can tax the shit out of it and put that money towards education and infrastructure.  People keep calling for creative solutions to fixing budget deficits.   Well there is one growing right in front of us, and two states said yes to it (CO and WA). 

And we won on equality.  The bigots were sidelined and will continue to be banished to the back pages of history with the likes of all those who have disregard individual liberty. 

So that’s why the tears keep coming.  Headlines and news stories, commentary and conversation all bring an emotional validation of victory. 

The resident of the White House stands for me (not to mention the millions of other Americans who he fights for – for healthcare and jobs, for education and access to contraception).  The wins of 11/6 carry weight because of what was at stake and I couldn’t be happier to have been a part of it.  It feels good to fight; better to win. 

Congratulations to all those who chose to take up the mantle for a cause this year.  Revel in your victory, and when it hits you, let the tears roll. 

Liberty, and Part of the Pursuit, Too

Pardon me, for I had to wait a day to digest and not allow this post to be polluted by premature epitaphs, vitriolic profanity, and haughty commentary. However, that is not a caveat to prevent any of the aforementioned. For it will, perhaps, be more stinging and not so hysterical. Or, maybe even more hysterical.

The military’s Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy is blatantly discriminatory. Barbara Boxer, the junior Senator from California, rightly compared this country’s bigotry with Iran, Pakistan, Venezuela, and North Korea. What an atrocity. While the Bronx and Boston happily takes free oil from Venezuela and for years our government has propped up a corrupt Pakistani regime, to pair our great nation with such a demonized group really carries heft.

More than 13,000 of our bravest and boldest have been discharged under the policy. Many of whom were specialists in their fields, including fluency in Arabic. This policy was on the verge of being overturned, and President Obama has made clear that this policy is a mistake of the past.

That mission failed, and did so in a disgustingly anti-climatic, modernly typical fashion.

The greatest, most deliberative chamber in the world is an embarrassment. The United States Senate has failed to achieve its most basic of tasks, and while doing so, has driven the very people it represents into an unyielding abyss of discrimination, immaturity, and recklessness. This should come as no surprise to those who have followed the chamber’s spineless actions for the past decade or so.

Though it has been two long years since the horrific and ignorant George W. Bush departed from the great House that is White, and seventeen years since the triangular William Jefferson Clinton signed the law we protest today, their actions and personas continue to wreck havoc on the institution that is supposed to be a check in their balance. As expected, their policies continue to help and indeed strain a nation that is itching to stretch and grow. One enacted, the other proudly executed, even while at war.

For the US Senate to fail this bill on a procedural vote is insolent. A single senator (John McCain, R-AZ) in the minority filibustered the Defense Spending bill, thus preventing it from even coming to the floor. The bill included pay raises for our troops, benefits for veterans, a repeal of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy, and give legal residency to young immigrants who serve two years in the military or spend two years in college (the DREAM Act). This was clearly no small bill, both in dollar and in action. The vote was 56-43—and it failed. Odd, I agree. But debate could not commence because 60 votes are required to enact cloture, the quick end to debate (but not one about the bill being prevented from debate); one of the many marvelously arcane rules of the Senate. Today’s Senators don’t even have to actually filibuster: that is, to hijack debate and prevent discussion on the topic at hand by speaking for hours on end. They just invoke, and boom—the body is stalled.

This piece, “A Filibuster Fix,” by Norman Ornsten, explains the history of the tool and what needs to happen to it for the Senate to continue existing in a productive manner. A must read for Senate enthusiasts.

Now if I may: the sole 1 of 100 undeniably responsible for this sordid and absurdly childish act was the GOP’s former front man: the once great John McCain. Oh, what a Maverick! A man who once defended principle over party and logic over idealism is now pussy-whipped by Sarah Palin and seduced by Glenn Beck (ignoring of course, the litany of decorated generals who support repealing the law). There once was a Senator from Arizona who could have been president. Now, the senior Senator from Arizona has embraced extremism, cuddled up to the American fundamentalists, and sucks the cock of the Ronald Regan he envisions. To see someone formerly valiant and respected pivot so vividly is appalling. Gays can flip-flop; for elected officials, it’s not good business.

I’m angry. Can you tell?

Then of course, there is Democrat Blanche Lincoln and her fellow AK partner in crime, Mark Pryor, also a supposed Democrat. Both cowards. I wonder if it’s coincidence that the very President who signed this bigoted law into action is from the same state. I guess there must be something in the water, or maybe the corn.

But then again, the president of the successful, peaceful, and surplus-filled 90’s now stands for marriage equality and regrets DADT.

I’ll admit there are a few Republicans I still respect, though that number continues to dwindle. And I even have to give traitor Joe Lieberman a nob for his stance on this issue. There are Susan Collins and Olymipa Snowe of Maine, at times Judd Gregg of NH, and even Scott Brown has taken the typical Northeastern Republican route of socially liberal while being fiscally inconsiderate. But no more. Susan Collins, who spoke in favor of repealing DADT, voted against this bill because she wanted more amendments from Republicans to be entertained. Well guess what: Republicans are in the minority for a reason. A decade ago, Republican leadership squandered a surplus and ignored the need for infrastructure investment. Considering the destruction they’ve created in the past several decades—detrimental trickle down economic policies that spoon feed the rich with exorbitant tax cuts, fueling corporations while raping the middle class and small businesses (yes, I said raping), and running this nation to war without a means to pay for it—time has come for them to be ignored and be told to STAND DOWN. Especially when it comes to policies that involve civil rights. Why I bet if gays loved guns, there would be no problem with their rights at all.

We are living in a time where borders barely matter. Visibility is a curse for bigotry and we see that all over the world, east to west: from stonings in Iran to indoctrinated homophobia in America. Right now in New York, the world has descended on the UN and you can see firsthand the protest of counties that have ignorant and discriminatory policies. It’s sad when we’re one of them, too.

During the Holocaust, gays were burned alongside Jews and gypsies in countries like Germany and Poland. The United States, while driven into war because of attack on her homeland, stood up against genocide and discrimination. Now, counties that were ruled by one of the world’s most ghastly leaders, countries where homosexuals were discriminated against in the streets and in constitutions, allow gays to serve openly in their military. But here, where our force is voluntary, we say “go away.”

History is our most brilliant judge. As frustrating as it may be to wait and fight for equality on all fronts—gays, women, immigration—we must never forget the very simple premise of our Country’s existence: not just that all are created equal, but that we, the people of this utterly fabulous nation, have the right to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit to Happiness.

Nowhere else in the world can such words be so used and so abused. What are they waiting for?