Oreo celebrates Gay Pride Month

I'm not surprised that the haters came out in force when Oreo posted a picture on its Facebook page of a rainbow-themed cookie to celebrate Gay Pride Month. (Sadly it's only an illustration, not a real cookie.)

The nasty comments were what you'd expect but there was one that really irritated me. It went something like this: Why would a company risk alienating 97 percent of (presumably straight) consumers to curry favor with the 3 percent who might be gay or lesbian.

That argument is particularly insidious because at first glance, it sounds logical. What business wants to anger 97 percent of the people who might buy its product? But it has the effect of marginalizing the other 3 percent by setting them apart from the rest of America. It's divisive and demeaning.

(I wonder whether this person thinks it's a mistake for supermarkets to cater to Jews with displays of matzo and gefilte fish during Passover? Jews are even less than 3 percent of the population. And you know about the special Coca-Cola we get, right?)

Beyond that, the argument is 100 percent wrong because it ignores just how much American attitudes toward homosexuality have changed. This is not 1960, when gay people were forced to live furtive lives in the shadows of society or pretend that they were straight.

Surveys show an ever-increasing number of straight Americans have someone in their life who's gay or lesbian. And knowing someone who's gay translates into greater acceptance. The younger you are, the more likely that's true. So thinking about what Oreo did in terms of 97 percent versus 3 percent is a total fallacy.

To put it plainly, there are plenty of cookie-eating straight people who support our gay friends. And plenty of cookie-eating gay people as well. They're out, they're proud and we love them year-round. When a company like Kraft, whose Nabisco division makes Oreos, reaches out to them, it makes us want to support that company, too.

A spokesman said that Kraft "has a proud history of celebrating diversity and inclusiveness. We feel the Oreo ad is a fun reflection of our values." Well those are my values, too. So next time I'm at the supermarket, I'll toss a package of Oreos into my cart. (Here's Buzzfeed on what some other snacks would look like showing their pride.)

The anti-gay bigots may think they're the majority in the United States but the percentages - and time - are not on their side.

Another milestone for civil rights

This is what a civil-rights milestone looks like.

President Obama signed legislation today repealing "Don't ask, don't tell," allowing gay and lesbian Americans to serve openly in the armed forces. (And what a contrast with this picture, of President Johnson signing the 1964 Civil Rights Act.)

Obama's remarks were inspiring, especially a story he told about an Army private, Lloyd Corwin, whose life was saved by a fellow soldier during the Battle of the Bulge in World War II. Decades later he learned that Andy Lee, the man who rescued him when he tumbled 40 feet down the side of a ravine, was gay.

The president said Corwin "didn’t much care. Lloyd knew what mattered. He knew what had kept him alive; what made it possible for him to come home and start a family and live the rest of his life. It was his friend.

"And he knew that valor and sacrifice are no more limited by sexual orientation than they are by race or by gender or by religion or by creed; that what made it possible for him to survive the battlefields of Europe is the reason that we are here today."

Well, I get choked up just reading that anecdote.

Corwin's son Miles was present at the bill-signing ceremony. He's a former Los Angeles Times reporter who wrote about his father's friendship with Lee in 1993. (At the time, Lee didn't want his name used, so Corwin calls him Frank.)

Like most straight people, I've had the experience of learning that friends and colleagues are gay or lesbian. Sometimes it doesn't happen until years after we've met. I understand that coming out is a difficult decision. There have been times when I've hesitated to tell someone that I'm Jewish and the stakes aren't nearly as high.

But I'm always honored that my friends and colleagues have trusted me enough to tell me something so personal. It doesn't change the way I feel about them. Being gay or lesbian is simply an immutable part of who they are and knowing more about them makes our friendship stronger.

I'm fortunate to have a diverse group of friends. (It would be pretty boring if I only knew people who were exactly like me.) Lloyd Corwin was right - sacrifice and valor are no more limited by sexual orientation than they are by race, creed, ethnicity or gender. Neither are generosity, integrity, patriotism and friendship.

It's unacceptable that my friends who are black or Latino or gay would be treated as anything less than decent, honorable people, as less than full and equal American citizens. So when I read this on Twitter today, from a writer named Mark Blankenship, it truly moved me and made me smile:

"The US president just declared the honor of gay people and took action to defend it. What strange joy to feel welcome in my country."

Now, Americans who are serving our country bravely will no longer have to hide who they are. That benefits all of us. You shouldn't have to hide who you are to do any job.

Like the president said, "We are not a nation that says, 'don’t ask, don’t tell.' We are a nation that says, “Out of many, we are one.” Today that includes even more of my friends, making me very proud - and joyful.

Senate repeals "Don't ask, don't tell''

Congratulations to the U.S. Senate, you did remember how to pass a civil-rights bill! I was afraid you'd forgotten.

Fifty-five Democrats, 8 Republicans and 2 independents voted Saturday to repeal "Don't ask, don't tell" and allow gays and lesbians to serve openly in the military. Their stand in favor of equality benefits all Americans, gay and straight, because a more just society benefits all of us.

A week ago I did not think this vote would happen. But for once, Congress surprised me in a good way - the House earlier in the week and the Senate yesterday. (My fellow blogger The Tin Man writes about how we got to this point.)

So kudos to Majority Leader Harry Reid and Speaker Nancy Pelosi. And Joe Lieberman, who helped spearhead the effort in the Senate, nice to have you back on the side of the angels. To the Republicans who broke party ranks, thank-you for demonstrating that equality is a bipartisan issue. President Obama, thank-you for keeping a campaign promise to end DADT.

I have to admit that when Bill Clinton announced "Don't ask, don't tell" in 1993, I didn't give it much thought. I didn't have any close friends or coworkers who were openly gay. I didn't appreciate what meant to be in the closet, to be forced to live a lie in order to serve your country.

But times have changed. Laws like "Don't ask, don't tell" and the Defense of Marriage Act affect my friends, coworkers, neighbors, people I love and admire. I understand now that those measures are unfair and un-American. That wasn't something I could have said 17 years ago. And I think that's true for a lot of straight people.

The young men and women in the American military will adapt. They're already serving with gay and lesbian soldiers who are doing their jobs quite well. I lived for a year in Israel - where gay soldiers serve openly. And no one would say that Israel doesn't have a strong army, whose troops face enemies every bit as tough as the ones U.S. troops face in Iraq and Afghanistan.

When I was watching C-SPAN, one vote in favor of repeal stood out - 86-year-old Democrat Daniel Inouye of Hawaii.

Inouye, a Medal of Honor recipient, lost an arm fighting in Italy in World War II. His unit, the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, comprised of mostly Japanese-Americans, was among the most highly decorated in the history of the U.S. military.

Here is what he said afterward:

“Finally, all brave men and women who want to put on the uniform of our great nation and serve in the armed services may do so without having to hide who they are. My only regret is that nearly 13,000 men and women were expelled from the military during the 17 years that this discriminatory policy was in place.

"In every war we have had men and women of different sexual orientation who have risked their lives for their country. I fought alongside gay men during World War II and many of them were killed in combat. Those men were heroes. And once again, heroes will be allowed to defend their country, regardless of their sexual orientation.”

Of course they were heroes - and now all of America's heroes will be able to serve openly and proudly.

As the president stated: "gay and lesbian service members - brave Americans who enable our freedoms - will no longer have to hide who they are. The fight for civil rights, a struggle that continues, will no longer include this one."

The road to equal rights for all Americans has been a long and tortuous one and progress doesn't happen nearly fast enough. But we're getting there. And yesterday was one of the good days.

Senate fails on "Don't ask, don't tell''

Senate Democrats and President Obama, shame on you for failing on a matter of fundamental civil rights like repealing "Don't ask, don't tell."

Is this the same party that in the 1960s won the struggle against racial segregation, that enshrined into law the right of black Americans to vote? You used to be good at this kind of thing.

Just a reminder, here is how you did it. With the vocal support of President Johnson, Sen. Hubert Humphrey and his colleagues managed to get the Civil Rights Act of 1964 through Congress despite entrenched Southern opposition.

And it was a bipartisan effort. On the day of the historic vote to end a filibuster over the bill, Republican Minority Leader Everett Dirksen echoed the words of Victor Hugo: "Stronger than all the armies is an idea whose time has come."

Here's another idea whose time has come:

Gay and lesbian Americans serving in the military, as in all other walks of life, should be able to live their lives openly and without fear. The time for requiring Americans to hide who they are in order to serve their country has passed.

Just like that vote 46 years ago, this is about one thing: equality.

Why does repealing DADT take a year?

I'm glad Defense Secretary Robert Gates said today that the Pentagon has begun the process of repealing "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." But I don't quite understand why that process will take a year to complete.

According to Gates, the Pentagon has put together a working group that will "reach out to the [military] ... to authoritatively understand their views and attitudes about the impacts of repeal."

With all due respect, who cares about their views and attitudes? Should the views and attitudes of white soldiers have been a factor in President Harry Truman's decision to desegregate the armed forces by executive order in 1948?

In this case, it's even easier.

By one estimate, 65,000 gay and lesbian Americans are already fully integrated, proudly and honorably serving our country. The only difference is, they're forced to hide something so basic to who they are or risk being discharged.

That's not the American way.

As Adm. Mike Mullen, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, said, "No matter how I look at the issue, I cannot escape being troubled by the fact that we have in place a policy which forces young men and women to lie about who they are in order to defend their fellow citizens."

If tomorrow, all 65,000 were able to serve openly and honestly, what would change? They'd still be exactly the same individuals doing exactly the same jobs. The only difference is, they would no longer be forced to deny who they are, forced to live a lie.

I think that would make our armed forces, our country, better.

At Stonewall, stepping into history

Sometimes it's nice to go "off the grid" of midtown Manhattan's numerically organized streets, which is why I love walking around Greenwich Village. So on the evening I was seeing Our Town at the Barrow Street Theatre, I went early to explore and enjoy a terrific dinner before seeing a great play.

Another thing I love about New York is that I'm always stumbling across someone or something unexpected.

On Christopher Street, I spotted The Stonewall Inn. I knew about its place in the gay-rights movement and I'd read Frank Rich's column in The New York Times on the 40th anniversary of the uprising that followed a police raid on the bar, on June 28, 1969.

I love seeing the places where history was made, so after snapping a few pictures, I went in to look around. (Later I learned that this isn't the original Stonewall, which was a little disappointing. But I think it's close to the original location.)

I made some personal history, too - it was my first time in a gay bar. It's not that I avoided them, I've just never been a big bar-hopper and I never had the opportunity, never had any friends take me to one.

Inside, it's a pretty ordinary place - subdued lighting, a pool table, rainbow-colored decorations hanging from the ceiling. It wasn't crowded on a Thursday afternoon - some men sitting at the bar. I thought about what it must have been like 40 years earlier and how the men in the bar that night could have been my friends, people I love.

I walked around, looking at historic photos and newspaper clippings on the walls, including one from a New York City paper the Sunday after the incident that made Stonewall famous, with the unbelievable headline: "Homo nest raided, queen bees are stinging mad."

I know that raids like the one at Stonewall are far from history. In fact, Texas authorities raided a gay club in Forth Worth in June, on very anniversary of the Stonewall riots, sending one person to the hospital with a head injury.

Coincidentally, I visited Stonewall the same afternoon that President Obama was in New York, speaking to the 100th anniversary gathering of the NAACP. The president talked about how far we've come in dealing with prejudice and discrimination but noted that we're not there yet.

To his credit, he did mention the struggle by gay and lesbian Americans for equal rights. Although I wish the rhetoric would be backed up by action to repeal "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" and the Defense of Marriage Act and to push for passage of the Matthew Shepard Act that would authorize the Justice Department to investigate hate crimes based on sexual orientation.

The president also talked about how change in America comes from the people, including the four black college students who sat down at a Woolworth's lunch counter in Greensboro, North Carolina, in 1960 and refused to leave until they were served.

While that was an act of nonviolent resistance, being in Stonewall still reminded me of those fearless young men. Sometimes history is made in the most unlikely places, at times when ordinary people who have been discriminated against, oppressed or shut out decide that they've simply had enough.

Of course today, no one would deny that our rights as Americans should include the ability to have a cup of coffee at the lunch counter of our choice. It seems to me that those rights should also include sitting down in a bar and having a drink without fear.

In 1999, when Stonewall and the area around it were added to the National Register of Historic Places, Assistant Interior Secretary M. John Berry said:

''Let it forever be remembered that here -- on this spot -- men and women stood proud, they stood fast, so that we may be who we are, we may work where we will, live where we choose and love whom our hearts desire.''

In Tel Aviv, baseless hate and murder

Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated by a right-wing, religious Jew three months after I made my first visit to Israel in 1995. I was upset but also deeply shocked. I couldn't believe that one Jew would kill another Jew.

Well since then, I've spent a year living in Israel and I'm not as naive about these things. Most acts of violence in Israel are committed by Jews against other Jews. As horrified as I am by the murder last night of two people at a youth center for gay teens in Tel Aviv, I'm not shocked.

I lived in the city for a year and yes, it's a pretty open, progressive place, especially compared with Jerusalem. It doesn't have the holy sites or large Orthodox population - and the accompanying tension. I loved the people and I loved living there.

I realize we don't know yet who perpetrated this act of terror. A lone gunman dressed in black entered the center Saturday night - a popular time for going out in Israel, at the end of the Sabbath - and started shooting.

But Tel Aviv isn't immune from the deep divisions in Israeli society - between religious and secular Jews, between Ashkenazim and Sephardim. As much as I love Israel, I realize that the same intolerance and homophobia and extremism that exists everywhere exists there.

Coincidentally, last week was Tisha B'Av, the date on the Jewish calendar that commemorates the destruction of the first and second temples in Jerusalem. The Talmud teaches that sinat chinam, baseless hatred, led to the destruction of the second temple - and of a Jewish homeland.

My thoughts go out to the injured and the families of the victims. I'm sad that a country I love so much, a city I got to know so well, is once again experiencing the pain of violence fueled by hate.

Frank Rich on Stonewall

I truly admire the way New York Times columnist Frank Rich continually reminds us that this country's work on civil rights is not yet complete.

Last month, he took the Obama administration to task over its failure to push for the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" and the Defense of Marriage Act. Today, he has a column on the 40th anniversary of Stonewall and he's still holding the administration's feet to the fire.

(I love this line: "If the country needs any Defense of Marriage Act at this point, it would be to defend heterosexual marriage from the right-wing “family values” trinity of Sanford, Ensign and Vitter.")

Rich recalls how he was caught up in the civil rights and antiwar movements of the 1960s but never heard about the demonstrations that followed a police raid on a gay bar in Greenwich Village on June 28, 1969. Even if he had, he wonders whether he would have cared. After all, he didn't know anyone at his Ivy League university who was openly gay.

"It was typical of my generation, like others before and after, that the issue of gay civil rights wasn’t on our radar screen. Not least because gay people, fearful of harassment, violence and arrest, were often forced into the shadows."

I'm younger than Rich, but I've always been interested in the history of the 1960s, particularly the civil rights and antiwar movements. I read widely on those subjects when I was in college in the late '70s and early '80s. And I never remember reading anything about Stonewall. Like Rich, when I was in college, I didn't know anyone who was openly gay.

Well, things are, thankfully, different today. Frank Rich cares, and so do I.

My audience may not be as large as the Times' but I intend to keep writing, too. How could I not? How could I tell my friends who happen to be gay or lesbian - people I love and admire - that there are some rights they don't deserve, that our laws shouldn't protect them as much as they protect me, that they shouldn't be allowed to marry the person with whom they want to spend the rest of their life?

On Monday, Rich notes that President Obama will mark the Stonewall anniversary at the White House. And he repeats his disappointment in the administration, which I share. Congressional Democrats, too. I'm not letting you off the hook. Judging from this Times story, there's plenty of foot-dragging in the legislative branch.

One line in Rich's May column gave me pause, when he said that "changes aren’t coming as fast as many gay Americans would like." I noted that there are plenty of "straight Americans" who want equal rights extended to everyone in this country. It's important for our elected officials to know that this isn't a "gay issue."

Apparently, he's been reading my blog because this time, he gets my point:

"It’s a press cliché that “gay supporters” are disappointed with Obama, but we should all be. Gay Americans aren’t just another political special interest group. They are Americans who are actively discriminated against by federal laws."

"If the president is to properly honor the memory of Stonewall, he should get up to speed on what happened there 40 years ago, when courageous kids who had nothing, not even a public acknowledgment of their existence, stood up to make history happen in the least likely of places."

Thank-you Frank

Frank Rich has a great column in the Sunday New York Times taking President Obama to task for his lack of courage in pushing for the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" and the Defense of Marriage Act.

"Despite Barack Obama’s pledges as a candidate and president, there is no discernible movement on repealing the military’s “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy or the Defense of Marriage Act. Both seem more cruelly discriminatory by the day."

He's absolutely correct. There's just one line in Rich's column that I'd quibble with: "And yet the changes aren’t coming as fast as many gay Americans would like, and as our Bill of Rights would demand."

It's not just "gay Americans" who want change to come faster - there are plenty of "straight Americans" who want equal rights extended to everyone in this country as soon as possible. Like, today.

Different stories, common hopes

At the Lincoln Memorial yesterday Barack Obama said that as president, he'll bring with him to the Oval Office the voices of all the Americans he met on the campaign trail: " the voices of men and women who have different stories but hold common hopes."

Last year on Martin Luther King Day I wrote about Straight for Equality. I mentioned the many occasions on which Coretta Scott King spoke forcefully about the connection between the fight for equal rights for African-Americans and for gay and lesbian Americans.

Today, on Martin Luther King Day 2009, the day before the inauguration of the first African-American president of the United States, her words are especially important to recall:

“I still hear people say that I should not be talking about the rights of lesbian and gay people.... But I hasten to remind them that Martin Luther King Jr. said, 'Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.' I appeal to everyone who believes in Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream to make room at the table of brother- and sisterhood for lesbian and gay people.”

Different stories, common hopes. Absolutely.

Milk

When I visited San Francisco a few years ago, I spent a couple of hours walking around the Castro neighborhood. It's a nice, quiet place, filled with small shops and restaurants - perfect for browsing. But it seemed a little sad that the place where Harvey Milk ran a camera store and built a political base didn't have a more prominent memorial to him.

So I'm glad that we have Gus Van Sant's film Milk, and Sean Penn's engaging performance - Lawng Island accent and all - in the title role. It's a powerful, heartfelt tribute to the life and times of one of the first openly gay candidates elected to public office in the United States. And it's also a reminder of the ongoing struggle for civil rights for gay and lesbian Americans.

But I don't want to leave the impression that this is preachy or a dry history lesson. Dustin Lance Black's script tells a story that's poignant and funny and passionate and entertaining. I like the way Van Sant weaves archival footage into the movie. (In the credits, Van Sant acknowledges a debt to the excellent Oscar-winning 1984 documentary, The Times of Harvey Milk.) The classical score, with the operatic music that Milk loved, also is quite effective, giving the story an epic feel.

With his lover Scott Smith, played by a sweet and endearing James Franco, Milk leaves a closeted, miserable life in New York in the late 1960s. The two of them join hundreds of other gay men who made the Castro their home - a place where they could live openly and freely and hopefully without fear or persecution.

And Penn's Harvey Milk is irrepressible. He's smiling and confident, a man of boundless optimism and energy, fighting against police indifference, for equal rights, always looking to create alliances. He's constantly adapting - shedding his long hair and jeans for suits and ties, crafting a new message when an opponent advises him that he has to give people some hope.

I think that Penn is at his best when he's using wit and charm to disarm bigots and point out the ridiculousness of their arguments, or exhorting his followers that those words on the base of the Statue of Liberty and enshrined in the Declaration of Independence also speak to the rights of gay and lesbian citizens.

You can see why Milk attracted such a devoted group of political acolytes. And there's a terrific supporting cast. Emile Hirsch is adorable as Cleve Jones, a smart, young street hustler Milk takes under his wing and turns into an organizer. (Jones is also the person who would later conceive of the NAMES Project AIDS memorial quilt.) Alison Pill is great as Milk's tough and savvy lesbian campaign manager in a very male-dominated circle. Josh Brolin plays Dan White, Milk's fellow supervisor and assassin, as the brooding, obviously disturbed person he was.

Milk finally wins election to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors representing the Castro after redistricting creates neighborhood seats. His victory occurred during an ugly period for civil rights in this country. It was the same time as Anita Bryant's successful 1977 campaign to repeal a law in Dade County, Florida, that outlawed discrimination against gays and lesbians.

In 1978, California voters were faced with an initiative known as Proposition 6 that would have prevented gay people, or even those who supported gay rights, from working in public schools. The fight against Proposition 6 is eerily reminiscent of last fall's battle over Proposition 8 in California, which was successful in taking away the rights of gay and lesbian citizens to marry.

Just as in Proposition 8, we see proponents of Proposition 6 using children in the most dishonest and vile manner to provoke fear of gays and lesbians. And just as in Proposition 8, there's a reluctance by opponents of the measure to even use the word gay in their campaign.

In a very moving scene, Milk urges his gay supporters to come out to their families and neighbors and coworkers. He tells them, "People vote two to one for us when they know one of us." Unfortunately, although I wish it were otherwise, proximity and empathy don't always go hand in hand. Still, the measure went down to defeat by more than a million votes.

For me, some of the most poignant parts of Milk were the two scenes that Van Sant uses to bookend the movie. One shows grainy black-and-white footage and newspaper clippings of the police raiding gay bars, carting off patrons as they try to cover their faces. The second, some three decades later, is a candlelight procession through San Francisco's Castro neighborhood in the wake of Harvey Milk's assassination. This time, no one is hiding.

Harvey Milk famously said, "If I'm killed, let that bullet destroy every closet door." Thirty years after his death, there about 450 openly gay and lesbian elected officials in the United States, including the mayor of the city where I live. For another three days, it'll be the largest U.S. city with an openly gay mayor.

On Jan. 1, that distinction will transfer to Portland, Oregon, when City Council member Sam Adams takes the oath of office as mayor. Five days later, Jared Polis, the first openly gay man elected to the U.S. House of Representatives as a freshman, will be sworn in to represent Colorado's Second District in Congress.

These are not gay elected officials, they are simply elected officials who happen to be gay. Their issues are the same ones that all elected officials grapple with - education and transportation and social services and the needs of small businesses. They are the same issues that Harvey Milk cared about. Somewhere, I'm sure, he is smiling.

They were not afraid

This is in memory of Michael Schwerner, James Chaney and Andrew Goodman, two Jews and a black man who were murdered in 1964 simply for trying to ensure that all Americans had equal rights and equal protection under the law. I've been thinking about them this week in light of Barack Obama's election to be our next president.



All three showed great courage. Schwerner and Goodman could have enjoyed their comfortable white, Jewish middle class lives, but something compelled them to go to Mississippi. This was a time of legal segregation, when African-Americans in the South could not vote. They knew that until we're all free, no one is free. Somewhere along the line, we forgot about that on Tuesday - in California, Florida, Arkansas and Arizona, were antigay ballot measures were approved. Here's another reminder:

"Gays and lesbians stood up for civil rights in Montgomery, Selma, in Albany, Ga. and St. Augustine, Fla., and many other campaigns of the Civil Rights Movement. Many of these courageous men and women were fighting for my freedom at a time when they could find few voices for their own, and I salute their contributions."
Coretta Scott King

Remembering Matthew Shepard

I was living in Israel in October 1998, so I'm not sure when I first heard about the murder of 21-year-old University of Wyoming student Matthew Shepard. But sometime later, after I was back in the United States, I remember watching a segment on television about the crime.

Listening to the details of how he was tied to a fence and beaten and left to die on the outskirts of Laramie made me sick. And the fact that Shepard was targeted because he was gay made it even more horrifying.

This week marks the 10th anniversary of Shepard's death. His body was discovered on Oct. 6 and he died on Oct. 12, 1998.

One of the most noteworthy efforts to remember Shepard began five weeks after he died. Members of New York's Tectonic Theater Project, including cofounder Moises Kaufman, traveled to Laramie to interview people who knew him or were connected with the case, or were just ordinary citizens, straight and gay. After a year and more than 200 interviews, the transcripts were turned into a play, The Laramie Project. In 2002, the play became an HBO movie.

I watched The Laramie Project for the first time this week. Once again, hearing the detailed description of Shepard's injuries made me so sick that I had to turn down the volume on my tv. There are breathtaking views of the wide-open Wyoming landscape and I was struck by the contradiction of something so awful occurring in a place filled with so much beauty.

It's heartbreaking to hear gay and lesbian citizens talk about how they lived quietly, in fear, before the death of Matthew Shepard. And it's also inspiring to hear how his death galvanized them, along with many straight Wyoming citizens, to speak out against homophobia, no matter what the consequences.

But sadly, there's also a disheartening interview with a rancher and his wife, who seem totally unaware of their bigotry. They can't see the connection between saying things like, "I certainly don't approve of homosexuals" and the murder of Matthew Shepard. They don't seem to understand that their disapproval - their demonization - contributes to an atmosphere in which violence against gay people can occur.

I thought about how I would feel if the word "homosexual" were changed to "Jewish" in this excerpt:

Rancher: I think the Jewish community is taking this as an advantage, said, this is a good time for us to exploit this.
Wife: They made it sound like it was 10 murders instead of one.
Rancher: They're accusing the ranchers of being unreasonable and unsympathetic because of how he was.
Wife: And what his persuasion was. Well, he would certainly be welcome in our home we'd visit, sit down, have a cup of coffee.
Moises Kaufman: What did you think when you heard that two boys from your town did this?
Rancher: Well I certainly don't approve of Jews but I don't think anybody has a right to do what those two boys did.
Moises Kaufman: Well where do you think that comes from, their hatred toward Jews?
Wife: I think what most people fear in the Jewish community is that religion is their number one concern,
Rancher: Not many people condone it
Wife: When you wear it on your sleeve like a banner.

Of course today, they probably wouldn't talk like that about Jews, at least not openly, not to strangers who are recording their words. I'm fairly certain they would know it wasn't acceptable. But they seem perfectly comfortable expressing their disapproval of gay people, blaming them for homophobic acts, as if they had it coming.

As well-made and important as I think The Laramie Project is, my biggest fear is that people will take away from it the wrong message: that homophobia only occurs in small towns or rural America or among people from certain economic classes. But prejudice and antigay hatred and ignorance - as well as love and respect and support - occur everywhere.

Kaufman and the theater company returned to Laramie this year, to see how attitudes toward gay and lesbian people have changed, and to write an epilogue to the play. He tells The New York Times, "I guess what disappoints me isn’t so much Laramie, it’s the fact that more social progress hasn’t happened everywhere.”

One of the most moving parts of The Laramie Project comes near the end, when Shepard's father addresses the court before the sentencing of one of his son's killers and says that the family will not insist on the death penalty. His father talks about how Matthew was with God when he died. This week, as my thoughts are with all of those who knew and loved Matthew Shepard, I hope they take comfort in the knowledge that he is in a place where no one can harm him, that he is at peace.

Since Shepard's death, his parents have created an educational foundation to fight hatred. Last month, the University of Wyoming dedicated a bench in Shepard's memory. But the Matthew Shepard Act, a bill that would extend federal hate-crimes law to include crimes motivated by a person's sexual orientation, has still not been enacted into law. And, of course, hate crimes persist.

While it didn't have any connection to the anniversary of Matthew Shepard's murder, in August I joined PFLAG - Parents, Families & Friends of Lesbians and Gays. It's a coincidence, but a fitting one, I think.

Over the summer, I wrote about the successful effort to overturn a 1913 law that had been used to prevent out-of-state gay couples from marrying in Massachusetts. A dear friend e-mailed me, thanking me for being supportive and suggested that I join. I wrote him back and said it was a great idea.

I admire my friend so much for the way he's stood up against all forms of bigotry - including racism and anti-Semitism. How could I not do the same for him? Plus, as he and his partner celebrate their fifth anniversary, it seemed like the perfect way to honor their relationship - this year and every year.

I'm not normally a joiner but I'm glad that I joined PFLAG. All I have to do is look at their sweet, smiling faces and think about how much these two good men love each other, how much their friendship means to me, how proud I am to know them, and I know it was the right thing to do.

It may not be much, but it's my own little contribution toward ensuring that everyone has the opportunity that was denied Matthew Shepard - to live openly and free from fear. It is simply our right as Americans and as human beings to do so.

Fighting hate

The Web site Good as You prides itself on using humor and irreverence to document bigotry against gay and lesbian people. "Our tone is light, but our message is firm: We will not sit back and be led to a society that favors discrimination over diversity."

As you read through the stories of preachers who seem to have forgotten The Golden Rule and organizations that purport to "defend" the family while attacking some families, it's easy to feel numbed and helpless. But one item this week disgusted me to the point where I felt compelled to do something. The American Family Association has revealed its "The Top Ten Pro-Homosexual Sponsors on Television."

I don't even like mentioning the organizations' name, and I hesitated to write about this because I don't want to give them and their hate-filled campaign any further publicity. But if there's anything that the history of the 20th century has taught us, it's that we can't be silent in the face of hatred. Bigotry doesn't go away simply because we ignore it.

While the AFA and their supporters certainly have the right to their opinion, I have the right to oppose them. I hope that everyone who reads this will exercise their First Amendment rights and do what I've done: use the links so thoughtfully provided by this organization to send these companies letters of support.

So far, I've e-mailed the CEOs or left comments on the Web sites of several of the companies on the list. I told them that I use their products or services regularly and I watch the shows that they sponsor. I thanked them for their continued support of television programs that include gay and lesbian characters. I encouraged them to continue to stand firm against bigotry and for a more inclusive vision of America.

I'm under no illusion that my e-mails will have much an impact compared with the mountain of hate mail these companies will probably be getting. Unfortunately, it's usually the haters who speak the loudest and seem to command the most attention. The rest of us read what they've done, shake our heads and move on.

Sure, it's easy enough simply to be disgusted and dismiss the whole thing as lunacy. But you know, sometimes it's not enough to be disgusted and dismissive. A sense of outrage is like a part of your body, you have to exercise it to keep it healthy.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Today marks the 15th anniversary of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," which forces gay and lesbian Americans to hide their sexual orientation if they want to serve in the military. Time magazine has an article about it.

I have to admit that when President Bill Clinton announced the policy shortly after his inauguration in 1993, I didn't give it much thought. I didn't work with anyone who was openly gay. I didn't have any friends who were openly gay. I knew that Clinton, having grown up in the segregated South, saw it as a civil rights issue, but I wondered why he picked it to focus on so early in his first term. I didn't appreciate why it was so significant, and why "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" was such a degrading policy.

Well, things have changed since then. Today, almost everyone I know works with someone or has friends or relatives who are openly gay or lesbian. I have close friends, colleagues, people I love and admire, who are gay. While things are far from perfect, as a society we have moved toward a greater understanding that a person's sexual orientation is something they're born with, and in the end, it's not a big deal, just part of what makes that person a unique individual.

I can't even comprehend how horrible, how suffocating it would be for someone I know and love to be in the closet, to fear what would happen to them if they came out. It's inhumane to expect someone to live that way. And the policy that I didn't give much thought to 15 years ago, today seems unfair, discriminatory, ridiculous and absolutely un-American.

There is no reason why, if someone wants to serve their country, they should be forced to hide something so basic about themselves. That's not what this country is supposed to be about. It goes against our values as an open, democratic, free, egalitarian nation. And I think it's a shame that the debate isn't framed that way.

While I've never been in the military, I have lived in a country - Israel - where gays serve openly. And no one would say that Israel doesn't have a strong army, that its soldiers don't face implacable enemies every bit as tough as those U.S. soldiers face in Iraq. During the year I spent in Israel, I felt totally secure that I had a strong, skilled army helping to keep me safe.

Here's what a gay ex-officer in the Israel Defense Forces had to say on the subject, and what Americans could learn from Israel. And here's a study from the Michael D. Palm Center on the impact of gays and lesbians serving openly in the Israeli army. The conclusion: "Our findings are that Israel’s decision to lift its gay ban had no impact on performance and that despite differences between the two cases, lessons from the Israeli experience are relevant for determining what would happen if the U.S. Congress and Pentagon lifted the American gay ban."

And here's a commentary from the late Sen. Barry Goldwater, arguing forcefully that the ban should be lifted. He says, in part, "Nobody thought that blacks or women could ever be integrated into the military. Many thought that an all-volunteer force could never protect our national interest. Well, it has, and despite those who feared the worst - I among them - we are still the best and will continue to be."

Straight for Equality

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."
Rev. Martin Luther King
Letter from Birmingham Jail
April 16, 1963

I've had a link to Straight for Equality on my blog for a little while now, but I've never written anything about it. So today, Martin Luther King Day, seems like an appropriate time.

Straight for Equality is a national outreach effort sponsored by PFLAG. It's designed to empower "straight" allies for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people in three primary areas: home, workplace and community. If you go to the Web site, you'll find a list of things that you can do as an ally. They're as simple - and important - as speaking out when someone makes a bigoted joke or comment.

Too often, it's the bigots, the haters, who make the loudest noise and get the most attention. And the rhetoric can turn especially ugly during the campaign season. But in my opinion, they do not represent who we are as Americans or the values of equality and justice that we hold dear.

A study last year by the Pew Center for People & the Press found that 4 in 10 Americans have close friends or family members who are gay or lesbian. About half of all women, young people, college graduates, political liberals and mainline Protestants say that someone close to them is gay, the survey found. Yet too often, we don't speak up loudly enough for our friends, our neighbors, our coworkers and our family members. Someone has to tell the bigots that they're wrong.

If you're straight, and you wonder why you should care, well, I don't believe that it's solely the obligation of gays and lesbians to fight homophobia any more than it's the sole obligation of Jews to fight anti-Semitism or women to fight sexism or African-Americans and Latinos to fight racism. We all have an obligation to do what's right.

And this is not about your political views or religious beliefs, just as the civil rights movement for African-Americans was not about politics or religion. It's simply about equal rights for all Americans regardless of the sexual orientation they were born with. That includes right to be treated equally in the workplace, the right to live openly and be a full participant in society, the right to be free from fear, the right to marry the person you love.

When I was in high school, I had the honor of briefly meeting Coretta Scott King. It's an experience that I will never forget. Before she passed away, Mrs. King spoke eloquently on the connection between the fight for equal rights for African-Americans and for gays and lesbians. Her words are truly inspiring and worth remembering today.

Here's some of what she had to say:

“I still hear people say that I should not be talking about the rights of lesbian and gay people.... But I hasten to remind them that Martin Luther King Jr. said, 'Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.' I appeal to everyone who believes in Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream to make room at the table of brother- and sisterhood for lesbian and gay people.”

"Gay and lesbian people have families, and their families should have legal protection, whether by marriage or civil union. A constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriages is a form of gay bashing, and it would do nothing at all to protect traditional marriages."

"Homophobia is like racism and anti-Semitism and other forms of bigotry in that it seeks to dehumanize a large group of people, to deny their humanity, their dignity and personhood. This sets the stage for further repression and violence that spread all too easily to victimize the next minority group."

"Gays and lesbians stood up for civil rights in Montgomery, Selma, in Albany, Ga. and St. Augustine, Fla., and many other campaigns of the Civil Rights Movement. Many of these courageous men and women were fighting for my freedom at a time when they could find few voices for their own, and I salute their contributions."

"We have a lot more work to do in our common struggle against bigotry and discrimination. I say “common struggle” because I believe very strongly that all forms of bigotry and discrimination are equally wrong and should be opposed by right-thinking Americans everywhere. Freedom from discrimination based on sexual orientation is surely a fundamental human right in any great democracy, as much as freedom from racial, religious, gender, or ethnic discrimination.''

"Like Martin, I don’t believe you can stand for freedom for one group of people and deny it to others."

"I've always felt that homophobic attitudes and policies were unjust and unworthy of a free society and must be opposed by all Americans who believe in democracy."

Putting a link on my blog isn't a very big or courageous act. I know it's not going to change the world. But one thing I've come to realize is that I get visitors from all over the United States, from all over the world. This is just one small way of showing where I stand. And if Martin Luther King Day means anything, it should be a day for rededicating ourselves to the fight for equal rights for all Americans.

It's a day, as Mrs. King wrote, to commemorate "the values of courage, truth, justice, compassion, dignity, humility and service that so radiantly defined Dr. King’s character and empowered his leadership.''

Forty-five years ago, Dr. King wrote that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." It's an eloquent statement that still rings true today.