Defying Hate, Ignorance and Intolerance

Today, more than 300,000 gays and lesbians are expected to take part in the “Millennium March on Washington for Equality.” My partner of four years and I will be walking among them. Yet I am in D.C. with a mixture of excitement and remorse.

It is the fourth such march on Washington since the bicentennial year, which is approximately when gays and lesbians evolved into a cohesive national political movement. Today, the gay community is a force with which to be reckoned in each major political party, though for different reasons. Gay-bashing is finally going the way of the Know Nothings and the Klan. We come together today to celebrate our political advancements.

Driven by inescapable human compassion; fueled by millions of individual “coming out” stories, each of which has had its impact on family and friendships, and armed with extraordinary revelations about DNA and genetic codes, we are witnessing a paradigm shift throughout mainstream religious, political and civic institutions challenging the myths, ignorance and cruel stereotypes surrounding homosexuality. This shift has not been easy or painless, as Reform Jews, Methodists, Episcopalians, American Catholic bishops, Republicans, the state of Vermont and the Boy Scouts can attest.

So we come together today in Washington to honor the many millions of individuals who came out of the closet and asserted their inalienable right to live as God created them, even when hostility was more blatant and vicious than it is today. They made the journey easier for those of us who followed.

We come together today in Washington to mourn the loss of far too many wonderful, talented, loving individuals who were unfairly struck down before their contributions were complete, whether by illness or at the hands of hate. We come together today to connect with the larger legacy of homosexual men and women, many of whom been persecuted, but who have survived, achieved and led the way.

Twenty-five years ago, as a young staffer on Capitol Hill for a conservative Republican U.S. senator from New York, I was convinced politically, morally and spiritually that homosexuals were bad and that, whatever “peculiar” feelings I might have felt then, surely I was not one of them. Later, I went on to join the staff of conservative Republican Congressman Bob Dornan, who I would serve for 12 years, eventually as campaign manager and chief of staff. Dornan would develop a well-deserved reputation as one of Congress’ leading gay-bashers, and I was complicit in my silence, afraid to speak up for fear of being suspect.

Never would I have believed I would be marching as an openly gay man in front of the U.S. Capitol building where I spent 16 years--before, during and after the Reagan revolution--denying my own homosexuality and believing gays and lesbians deserved to be politically isolated.

I therefore am flushed with excitement, emotion and humility at the sheer honor of finally, openly, marching with so many who came before me. Those who suffered from ridicule and rejection by me and my political friends, and yet, ironically, made it safer for me to find my way out. I honor them today.

This is my story, one which I shared with George W. Bush as part of the “Austin 12” gays and lesbians who met with the governor two weeks ago in a historic 90-minute meeting. Never before has the Republican presidential nominee met with a delegation of gay and lesbian activists, and then listened so intently to our 12 separate but similar journeys.

The Millennium March on Washington brings gays and lesbians from across the country to close out a quarter-century of extraordinary activism. We remain united in one goal: We reject second-class citizenship and lay claim to full equality. It also emboldens our spirits to breach the cracking walls of hate, ignorance and intolerance that still stand between us and full equality. With God’s help, it is a battle we will win.