Pride Month is coming to a close. My travel schedule was such that I missed the two Pride festivals that I really hoped to attend -- DC's and Detroit's. :( Still, last weekend, The Girl and I managed to attend Lansing's PrideFest. It's a small event, but I went to it last year and I really enjoyed it again this year (although I didn't get as much play time since I worked at the Triangle booth this year). The weather was fantastic (unlike here in DC where we are again under a flash flood watch this morning!).
At the entrance to the festival there was a group of Christian evangelicals with bullhorns telling all who would listen how we sodomities were headed for hell. They looked silly, and I say this knowing how silly some people think we look. I stood there for a moment and watched them and finally just laughed at them, and walked off.
Apparently, in St. Petersburg, this past weekend was also their Pride festival. The St. Pete Times reports on it here. One key difference was that the protesters (all 5 of them) were allowed to march through the middle of the festival with their signs and their bullhorns spreading their message of love:
“You're a sodomite! You're filthy! You need Jesus Christ!” yelled a 23-year-old evangelist who would not give his name or occupation.
He called himself “John the Baptist,” and kept preaching even after someone threw a drink on him. Ice cubes sat melting on his shoulders.
“You probably have AIDS. Is that why you're so small?” he yelled at a gay man.
The crowd reacted by hurling expletives and drinks at the protestors. No actual fights broke out (the 5 protestors were, mercifully, protected by 8 policemen) and no arrests were made.
But, a question raised by some is: how should we react to such activities?
Nigel Watson maintains an email list, not unlike a blog. On today's list he commented about the festival attendees and their reactions to the fundamentalists. I thought you might appreciate it. I think he has some pretty fair points:
Let me use a scenario based on something fresh in everyone’s consciousness: the religiously-motivated protestors at Saturday’s Pride Festival. While I’ve already made my thoughts clear on how I feel about their right to be present, it remains that their constant state of fear and passing judgment renders these folks some of the more unpleasant of our fellow travelers on this planet. But – and this is the crucial point – they are here; and they are not going anywhere – neither, I hope, are you.
So, what’s to do when uninvited guests crash your party?
I would submit that these folks’ raison d’etre is reaction. No reaction, no reason for making all that fuss in the first place. Just as a normally well-behaved child will act out to gain even negative attention, so will some adults. While I agree that few are able to withstand the onslaught of a screaming brat (those high registers should be registered as lethal weapons!), it is somewhat easier with most “adults.” After all, once you cross the reason Rubicon, at least you know when you’re behaving badly (even if you don’t let that stop you).
So, it seems like a good time for a metaphor (handy little thingies): if gay reaction to the haters and shouters is equivalent to the warm Gulf waters, and the religious Right frolics approximate a Category 5 blow, then what do you suppose might be the result if the gay reaction occurred in Late October?
Think about it. The less opposition to the Fundies’ tactics, the lower the water temp; the lower the water temp, the lower the fury of the storm.
Simple, n’est pas?
Of course, as with any role in a play, you will all be giving Oscar-worthy performances in order to project the impression that you couldn’t care less about their bad behaviour (short of the physical violence thingie). As with #5 above, [omitted] this will take practice. It will also take leadership.
So then, here is my challenge to you: Between now and the next Pride Fest, or other GLBT event, gather your leaders; work out a plan of passive resistance to thwart the disruptive aim of this theosophical band of bullies; and then hold strategy (role-play) sessions with the “troops.” The role-play might include a bunch of people screaming epithets from Revelations, or some equally foul scripture. Anything approaching “die, faggot dog, die!” at top volume is guaranteed to get the blood pumping, even if a friend is screaming it. If your group can keep a coolish head while all that’s going on, it will freak out the Fundies no end. Who knows, these guerrilla tactics might even drive them to take up Rosicrucianism.
Your plan should include lots of staring (as in the “I have nothing but pity for you.” or “Are you out of your fucking mind?” type). It should also allow for the few among you who stray from the non-responsive path (the Fundies are quite good at what they do – nuts, but good). All that careful planning will go for naught if one or two gays’ emotions gain the upper hand and the next thing you know the place resembles a gay bar brawl when both “grooms” choose the same place for their pre-nuptial “bachelor” parties; there must be adult supervision near at hand for such eventualities.
Please note that the goal here is not turn you all into passionless pansies (the term is “unflappable” – a good thing if you’re a butler). Rather, the goal is to never let the other guys see you sweat. How many times you kick the cat or abuse your television set when you get home that day is up to you.
Those of you who are familiar with my style can see my mile-wide streak of tongue-in-cheek chic hard at work here. But, don’t miss the heart-attack-serious message here. If you can pull this off (and you can) in little Ole’ St Pete, I have visions of you holding seminars at USF, and taking the one-day forum version on the road (no, I won’t do the tour for you).
While I can’t point to any particular GLBT leader, the honor roll of folks who have used the above technique for a wide range of causes include some heavy-duty historical company: Martin Luther King; Mohandes Karamchand Gandhi; Aung San Suu Kyi (Burma); Nelson Mandela; and a host of others.
The single towering commonality among all these folks is their indomitable spirit. All the state can do is kill or incarcerate them; either way the state loses. They remain an immovable force that those in power are unable to move, change, co-opt, destroy, ignore, or dismiss. They demand to be dealt with, and, sooner or later, they always are. They also nearly always get what they were after – usually benefits that accrue to others; part of what makes them an ineluctable moral force of nature.
The real secret to their moral suasion is their ability to get others to understand that their fight transcends parties, religions, nations, and all the other petty and parochial concerns that drive most of us to do what we do. They show how their victory will benefit the weal, not just this group, or that one.
Whether you are selling rutabagas or gay rights, if you can show folks that it is in their own best heterosexual interests to help you achieve sex-pref parity, others will move more quickly to your side to aid you in your struggle. Too often in this country, we tend to start off with an “us and them” idée fixe and it goes downhill from there.
Don’t get me wrong; I like to have fun with the Fundies (including hanging this mocking appellation on them). Their narrow focus causes them to do crazy – as in, abnormal and irrational – things. I just don’t do my mocking within their earshot; I try to respect their feelings. I recommend this approach to all reading these words. Have all the fun you want, just don’t be mean and hate them for being what they are. They can no more help condemning you than you can in wanting to date within your own gender (or sheep, whatever works, eh? And whose damn business is it anyway?).
Try not to hate or be mean. That’s what they do.
Well, enough for now. Let me know how this all works out. I’ll be waiting to see you drive the other guys crazy.