Is this really 2007?

I am sick. Completely. I spent the day with my sixth grade class watching a movie about Martin Luther King, Jr. and how he changed the world. Growing up, I knew his name, I knew roughly what he did, probably even read his speech, but it wasn’t until I began teaching about him a year or so ago, that I really began to understand what an amazing man he was, how Christ-like his teachings were, and how one man can motivate, inspire, and propel a nation towards movement, towards betterment. Every time I read about him, I learn more, am humbled more by the greatness of this imperfect human. I realize how soft I am and how soft we are as a gay community. Not that one of us needs to be a martyr like him, hopefully, but we have no such voice for our equality. I long to be that voice or help that voice. I don’t feel worthy to be that or have any idea how to even have my voice be heard outside of my own narcissistic blogging. But if not me, who? If not each of us, who?
I was reading a commentary over Tim Hardaway’s anti-gay comments over the past couple days. It was written by Kevin Hench on FoxSports.com. I was expecting some lame pc drivel. His writing reminded me of me, which of course appealed to me, being the narcissist I am. I was so impressed and my heart was lifted, making me feel that progress toward equality is really being made. In a sports article, no less. I was excited to read some of the more than 2,000 comments posted by people having read his article. Stupid me.
The first couple were statements that I agreed with in most aspects, then the majority showed up. Literally, around 80% of the sixty some comments I read (in the midst of tears, true, I cry easy, but not these type of tears normally) were applauding Hardaways comments and views. So many people even made reference to gays needing to be gotten rid of, going gay bashing, killing gays, telling of our sickness, perversion, unnaturalness, how we are freaks, disease-infested, not worthy of living—because of our ‘choice.’ They went off about absurdity of gays being compared to African-American causes.
What about when Black men were hung for kissing white women? When they couldn’t get married? When people were taught Blacks didn’t have souls? That they came from evil? There were people I grew up with still believing that. Not many, mind you, but some. Some being too many.
No, I have no idea the terror that the African-American community suffered under slavery and the time before MLK, and after. I can go to any school I want, drink from any fountain I want, sit on any bus, marry anyone I want (well, not that one). But I do understand to some degree. To see in black and white spelled out proudly for the entire world to see that people want to kill me, want to bash me until I am dead, calling upon the fires of Hell to give my reward, for me to not exist. Me and many that I love. Yeah, I get the fear, the hurt, the shame (though not at who and what I am, just shame of being reviled).
As I sat and watched video of African-American’s being shot, hung, beat in the streets, sprayed with water-hoses, carted off to jail, I had to ask myself, ‘could I do this for our equal right?’ ‘Could I do it out of love and peace and not fight back, as MLK said?’ ‘Am I willing to leave my comfortable, though unequal life, so that other lives now and in the future will be better?’ ‘Would I march?’ ‘Would I protest?’ ‘Would I look my attacker in the face, and still demand equality while showing him/her love?’
I want to say that I would.
I hope I would.
I don’t know though.
Maybe that scares me the most.
My picture and profile take up an entire page in this month’s Metromode magazine (local Denver fag rag). It was fun, but seeing it also brought back home that there is no going back. Not that I want to. But, it can never be denied. If someone is looking for a gay-bashing target, I gave them one. Of course, they would have to be reading a gay magazine, but hey, what better place to find beatable faggots?
To be honest, there were a few comments stating how God loves everyone. Hate the sin, love the sinner, etc. Nice, but I am sick of those as well. I was taught, with Bible verses, how it is a sin for different nationalities to marry. You can find whatever you want to support in the Bible. You can twist it however you need to. Yeah, it’s better than saying they want to see my blood flow, but it is still one more way to say I am a lesser human then they are.
Should gays be proud that they are gay? No.
Should blacks be proud they are black? No.
Should Latinos be proud of being Latino? No.
Should straights be proud of being straight? No.
Should tall people be proud of being tall? No.
Should short people be proud of being short? No.
Of all stupid things to be proud of. Why should be we proud of things we did nothing to become? I am not proud I have ten fingers and ten toes. All that came natural and I did nothing to earn or not earn it.
Let’s be proud of our humanity, of our love, of our passion, of our hard work, our kindness, our talents, our craftsmanship, our accomplishment, our determination, our overcoming adversity, even of our bravery to simply be who we are: gay, black, Latino, straight, tall, short, whatever—regardless of consequences. Let us (not just gays, everyone) be judged by our characters, our actions, acts of love and integrity, not applauded or condemned for something that took no effort or choice on our behalf.
I am gay. I am only proud of the fact that I do not hide, not proud of part of my make-up. I am gay. I am a man. I am short. I have red hair. I am white. I have blue eyes. None of which I earned.
I am teacher. I am a good friend. I am funny (at least I think so). I am artistic. I am compassionate. I am a giver. I can be selfish. I can be obsessive. I can be small-minded and judgmental. I can be irresponsible. I can be hurtful. I can be wrong. I am all those things, and more. These things I have worked on and chosen, even the bad.
There’s the list. Take your pick, one or all. Whichever you love the most or hate the greatest. You can choose what to do with me.
Love me…
Bash away…