Stop Crying Over Spilt Milk
Whoever said, “Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year” was clearly not living — what’s the word I’m looking for? — today. The holidays have always been full of emotions, stress and emotional stress, but The Holidays 2008 will prove to be more unique than in years past. Some of us are avoiding going home for Christmas, due to a falling out with our family over Proposition 8. Others of us have lost our “jobs,” our “pensions,” our “retirement funds,” or, as they like to say on Wall Street, “everything I’ve ever owned, and now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to jump off this ledge and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
It’s a bleak time to be not just an American, but also a gay American. In fact, it reminds me of an old Scandinavian joke: “Things may be bad, but at least the funeral industry is booming.” On second thought, I don’t think it’s a Scandinavian joke, but instead a joke from Turkey. Maybe it’s Italian. The point is, Six Feet Under is a great show.
We can’t get married, we’ve lost our job, our favorite TV shows keep getting canceled, and Sarah Palin has announced she’s pregnant with octuplets. We may as well stay in bed until Valentine’s Day. Sorry, that’s even worse. We may as well stay in bed until St. Patrick’s Day. Everything sucks, life should be over, let’s all order a double cheeseburger with a side order of depression, and hold the double cheeseburger.
I couldn’t disagree more (with myself, apparently). There has never been a better time to be a gay American.
I went to a preview of the new film Milk last week and needless to say, the film did or did not drive me to tears. For what it’s worth, I do not cry in public. So if you were at the film and thought you saw me crying, then you actually saw someone else. While most gay men and women are familiar with the story of Harvey Milk, it’s worth summarizing here: A gay man in his 40s becomes elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1978, thus becoming the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in California. He was later assassinated after being in office for only 11 months, and is now one of the most well-known gay icons and martyrs for the gay rights movement.
While I’ve been familiar with Milk’s story for many, many years, watching the film reminded me how similar his time was to ours, and how parallel and universal the challenges of gay men and women in the 1970s were to the challenges we face today. Proposition 6, which would have banned gay men and women from teaching in California schools in 1978, inspired the gay community to come together. Ultimately, gay men and women in California united and helped defeat the anti-gay measure by more than a million votes. An anti-gay proposition. Targeting gay men and women in California. Inspiring the gay community to unite in historical numbers.
Huh. Where have we heard this before?
Milk also points out that Anita Bryant, an ardent anti-gay activist, did not defeat the gay rights movement, but rather brought the gay community together as not even Harvey Milk could have. He used anti-gay political enemies to motivate the gay community, and he ran for office many times until he won. He truly understood the philosophy of turning his many failures into a big, fat gay successes.
So we lost our job in this terrible economy. It’s difficult, but big deal. What might we learn from this experience of unemployment, and might we end up finding a better job? So gay men and women cannot get married in California. It’s heart-wrenching and immoral, but big deal. What might we learn from Proposition 8, and how might this motivate us on a new level? So we’ve been disowned by our families and uninvited from going home for Christmas. That’s depressing and difficult, but big deal. How might we open up a new dialogue with our family?
I’m not naïve enough to believe that life is sugary, sunshine fills my lungs, and optimism will cure genocide, recessions and the stripping of civil rights. Nevertheless, we can transform our current challenges and setbacks into successes both personally and for the gay community. Optimism worked for Harvey Milk, and it can work for us. I’m sure Harvey Milk would agree that Christmas truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
That is, if he hadn’t been Jewish.