Mr. Speaker, I rise to introduce a recent editorial by Nick Benton, editor and publisher of the Falls Church News Press. His editorial, which appeared on October 19, 2011, reads as follows: It was by a remarkable and gracious coincidence…
Mr. Speaker, I rise to introduce a recent editorial by Nick Benton, editor and publisher of the Falls Church News Press. His editorial, which appeared on October 19, 2011, reads as follows:
It was by a remarkable and gracious coincidence that the
first weekend after the passing of our gay movement's
greatest pioneer, Franklin Kameny, the Martin Luther King Jr.
Memorial was dedicated on the National Mall.
The ceremony included a viewing of the entirety of Dr.
King's 17-minute ``I Have a Dream'' speech delivered on the
steps of the Lincoln Memorial to 300,000 in the ``Great March
on Washington'' of August 28, 1963, the year of the 100th
anniversary of Lincoln's signing of the Emancipation
Proclamation.
Seven of the handful of original gay members of the
Mattachine Society of Washington, led by Kameny, attended
that historic rally and heard that speech. It was with its
echoes ringing in their ears that in 1965, Kameny and a tiny
cadre of fellow homosexuals carried out the first-ever
organized picket line demanding homosexual equality held at
the White House gates.
In his 1963 speech, Dr. King welcomed the racially-diverse
makeup of the rally. ``Many of our white brothers, as
evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize
that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have
come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to
our freedom,'' he intoned.
``We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are
created equal,'' Dr. King declared. ``I have a dream that my
four little children will one day live in a nation where they
will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the
content of their character.''
That speech directly inspired the rise of our modern gay
movement, led by Kameny (May 21, 1925-October 11, 2011),
Lilli Vincenz, Barbara Gittings and a handful of others, as
chronicled in the film documentary, ``Gay Pioneers'' (2004),
produced by the Philadelphia Equality Forum.
Frank Kameny, I am proud to say, was my friend in recent
years. He was arguably the single most seminal influence in
the history of our movement, so claimed at a Rainbow History
Project forum last week. Kameny was scheduled to speak at
that forum before his untimely death at age 86 just two days
before.
His was the strident, compelling force that led the effort
against the 1950s McCarthyite anti-homosexual witch hunts in
the government (David K. Johnson, ``The Lavender Scare, The
Cold War Persecution of Gays and Lesbians in the Federal
Government,'' 2004).
He organized picket lines when no one else was doing it and
carried on a relentless, lifelong fight for equality. He ran
for public office and railed loudly against injustice in an
era when no one, except in rarefied circles of literary or
artistic elites, dared publicly declare their homosexuality.
His crowning achievement was his relentless, eventually
successful campaign to get the American Psychiatric
Association to remove homosexuality from its list of mental
disorders in 1973. That signal achievement changed the public
perception of homosexuality, laying the groundwork for
growing public acceptance and affirmation since.
Kameny invented the slogan, ``Gay is Good,'' far more
controversial in its time than it seems now. I defended it
then against objections of dedicated gay friends who
considered it too radical.
When I first met Frank, I was a young gay activist in 1970
in San Francisco. Dr. King's speech permeating the national
ethos, I'd made two life-changing decisions, entering
seminary in 1966 and joining Kameny and his San Francisco
counterparts prior to Stonewall in early 1969 to ``come out''
and join the struggle for gay, and human, liberation.
Our fight, I wrote in the editorial for the first Gay
Sunshine newspaper, ``should harken to a greater cause, the
cause of human liberation, of which homosexual liberation is
just one aspect.''
Regrettably, about that same time, the onslaught of the
right wing, socially-engineered anarcho-hedonist
counterculture hijacked our movement, dashing Dr. King's
appeal to the ``content of character'' in the process. We've
had to live, and die, with the consequences of that since.
I reconnected with Frank in recent years, while his
contributions became more recognized and appreciated. A
milestone came when the many picket signs, leaflets, speeches
and photographs he'd kept from his earliest activist days
were formally received as a special collection at the
Smithsonian Institution. He was honored at the White House by
President Obama, and a photo of him and me with Vice
President Biden hangs in my office.
Along with another other early activist and mutual friend,
Lilli Vincenz, and her long-time partner Nancy Davis, I
hosted Frank as my guest at the national dinner of the Human
Rights Campaign in 2005, and often invited him to lunches at
The Palm restaurant in downtown D.C.
Those many lunches were not only to enjoy his company, but
to provide opportunities for my friends, especially younger
ones, gay and otherwise, to meet and appreciate this genuine
hero of our movement. Recently, of this ``Gay Science''
project, Kameny smiled and quipped, ``I think we wind up in
the same place.'' I concurred.