Day of Decision Op-ed: Looking Before I Leap for Joy
June 07 2013 8:00 AM ET
On the Day of Decision, I'll be looking very hard
before I do any leaping for joy. I plan to be studying up beforehand,
because the one thing I know for certain is that the legalities involved
have multiple layers, and that in those first hours the court's ruling
will get as many interpretations as there are players invested in
painting the outcome in a way most flattering or threatening, depending
their own agendas.
As the titans of the pro- and anti-LGBT industries vie to dominate
the spin, I'll be working on my own analysis. Not that I'm not trusting;
a wise person once told me that the important thing was knowing what to
trust someone for.
It's just that when the Proposition 8 case was first floated, a lot
of experts weren't nearly as confident about its chances as the
Boies-Olson-AFER axis. They warned the result could become a major
setback. It no longer seems that we're likely to get a decision that
totally nullifies any rights queer couples have won, but there could be
worse things than "no." If "yes" to California comes at the price of a
long and torturous state-by-state "maybe" for the rest of the country,
we could be arguably worse off.
I'm old enough to remember what it was like to leave the relatively
benign Northeast to summer in Jim Crow America — and never kid yourself
into believing that the lack of rights in one part of the country
didn't degrade the rights supposedly secure elsewhere.
On the Day of Decision, when I've gotten a handle on what exactly
the decision is, I'll take to the streets since I'm that kind of person.
When we were organizing the United for Marriage: Los Angeles
demonstration on the eve of the Supreme Court hearings earlier this
year, even key figures in the marriage equality struggle asked "Why?"
They questioned what would be the purpose. "What were we protesting
against?" "Why would people come out to such an event?"
I'm an old-fashioned activist. Some of the best political education
I ever got came from going to demonstrations. It's not just about the
target: Demonstrators aren't just talking to "the enemy" and they aren't
just posing for the press. Information is shared, opinions start to
form, word is spread, contacts are made, participation is inspired, the
seeds of future strategies germinate.
After the Supreme Court has spoken, there will be a lot of work
ahead. If we want to chart our direction as a broad-based community
rather than put our fate in the hands of an elite few, the Day of
Decision will be the time to present our critical, public response to
whatever the Court rules. It will also be the time to begin talking
among ourselves about just what has happened and how to proceed.
On the Day of Decision, I'll be lighting a candle for my friend
Richard Adams, who passed away last December. Legally married to Tony
Sullivan, an Australian citizen, in 1975, Richard was a pioneer in the
issue now considered a cornerstone of LGBT liberation — then treated as
barely worth mentioning for both political and cultural reasons —
bringing the first federal lawsuit for the right to be treated equally
as a couple. Richard would be happy at the progress we've made. He'd
also be keenly aware that a states' rights-affirming ruling would give
off the same rotten stench that's rising from the betrayal of binational
same-gender couples in the current immigration reform negotiations.
He'd be reminding us as well that our equality doesn't begin or end with
marriage. On the Day of Decision, Richard would be demanding to know,
"So, what are you going to do now?"
LUCIA CHAPPELLE was a minister in Metropolitan Community Church
and a journalist in alternative media. In the 1970s and '80s, she
worked as interim pastor of All Saints MCC in West Hollywood, dean of
Samaritan Theological Institute, and pastor of the radical lesbian
feminist DeColores MCC. Lucia helped start the Gay Radio Collective that
has produced IMRU on KPFK-Pacifica, Los Angeles since 1975, and is currently the associate producer of This Way Out,
an internationally syndicated, weekly LGBT radio program. She also was
KPFK's program director from the mid-'80s to mid-'90s, and was part of
the original news team at PlanetOut. Lucia is now the social justice
minister at Founders MCC in Los Angeles.
