Ben Weber: Matman and Joker

Shawn Jansen of the Merced Sun-Star wrote this profile of Ben Weber, a young man who wrestles for the Golden Valley High School team here in Merced. The piece stuck in my mind, among the other bric-a-brac. A friend's recent Facebook post about a group of extraordinary young people who took action against lunatic hater Fred Phelps's Westboro Baptist "Church" group, brought Ben back to the forefront of my consciousness.

Weber is an outstanding example of what's right with teenagers today. He is his own person, secure in his abilities as a athlete, and utterly refreshing in his attitude about any perceptions others may have as to his sexuality.

So here, pried free from that clutter over near the far corner of my mind, dusted off and neatly festooned with croutons, is "Ben Weber: Matman and Joker."

http://www.mercedsunstar.com/2010/02/19/1318523/shawn-jansen-matman-and-joker.html?storylink=addthis

I'll be launching an expedition to find the Fred Phelps resistance piece later. It's difficult to find stalwart Sherpas to navigate the rat's maze that is my memory, so the process of fund-raising bake sales, raffles, and judicious high-yield kidnappings usually takes longer than my gnat-like attention span can spend focusing on a task.

Meanwhile, I'm beginning to feel those pesky stirrings of hope about the next generation. 

Note to self: must be careful about that, as it could lead to progress and change (or thinking about "hopey-changey things like that" ) - and a place on paranoid raver Glenn Beck's "social justice commie pinko totalitarian fascist queers" list.

However, having checked out the list thoroughly, I think I'd be honored to be included in such distinguished company.

"GLBT" - but what about the "IQ?"

This is taken from one of my first posts to AARP's "Spectrum" GLBT online community group.

[Writer's note:  AARP's 'automatic' censor had blacked out some words, most of which I comment on at the end.  But "penis?"  I fail to understand . . . what if this had been a post to a men's health group discussion?  Would the word "penis" still have been censored, while "testes" was allowed?]

I had asked the serious question "GLBT (Gay Lesbian Bisexual and Transgendered), but what about the 'IQ?' "  Someone commented that s/he didn't understand the term "Intersex" and asked if I was talking about hermaphrodites.

They also thought "Q" was for Queer.

I responded by explaining that "intersexed people are born with ambiguous genitals (and thank God surgeons aren't routinely and arbitrarily 'assigning sex' at birth by amputating **** and testes or sewing up a vaginal opening" as they used to)."

The spectrum of sexuality isn't just Kinsey's scale of 1-6 distinct types, as he would be the first to explain. There's a gradient line that cuts across all six sections . . . reflecting that each person is unique.

And the "Q?"

My reply, in full:

"Q" is for "questioning" -- those young (or later-life) people who are questioning their sexual identity in the process of discovering "who they really are."

I personally used to dislike the word "queer," even when it began being used by Queer Nation (and others) as an attempt to "take back the slur and use it ourselves, re-empowering the community."

That fell flat with me.  However, the late Christoper Isherwood (who I still venerate) said, "I call myself 'musical,' or 'so,' or 'queer."  He also once said "I like the word 'f****t.'  It has a crisp karate-chop sound to it."

I adore Isherwood's writings, and once got to meet him.  He graciously autographed all eleven of the books I brought to a signing of his "October," written with his other half, artist Don Bachardy.  I'd called to ask permission to lug all the books with me -- he was listed in the phone book.

In my own experience, both "queer" and "f****t" have unpleasant associations - especially "f****t.".  I've rarely heard it used by gay friends, but it was screamed at me both times I was gay-bashed as a young man.

Various names have evolved with the gay rights movement.  The problem seems to be the same as with the evolution of terms evidenced in the Civil Rights movement:  the NAACP ("colored people") through the United Negro College Fund, the Afro-Americans of the Black Power era (giving way to the People of Color, and the current African-Americans.  The time taken up getting to know the "right" terminology could be better spent, some feel, but each term reflects an era and a mind-set.

I usually use the word "gay" because (just as the above examples show), I'm a product of my era.

And I use "GLBT" or "GLBTIQ" because, as with the various rainbow flags, it covers the spectrum -- and may include either "Questioning" or "Queer."

"Queer," however, is easier -- and it has a tinge of radical subversion about it that I enjoy.  It savors of Queer Nation (and other queer notions).

Currently, most use "LGBT" (at least, in print).  I have no idea how the Lesbians moved to the front of the line.  I once asked, and was told "ladies first," which seems to me to be the kind of patronizing, sexist attitude that I'd thought the women's movement wanted to eradicate.

My own suspicion is that as gay men bore the brunt of the early AIDS crisis, dying in droves, the lesbians who supported the men's efforts simply co-opted their place in the chain (through having survived) and continued with outreach and education.  They've earned their place, regardless of who gets top billing.  

It was the Gay Rights movement first, Lesbians came into the battle a bit later (although "Dykes on Bikes" tends to be the first group in most Pride parades), and then the Bisexuals and Transgendered were acknowledged and welcomed into the fold.

"GLBTIQ," for me, sums up the history and evolution of the on-going struggle to attain equal rights for the "other/queer/odd."

Reed 13

P.S.  In writing this, I had to re-edit, because I used the full word "faggot" which was censored, coming out merely as six asterisks.  

The word "Dykes," however, was allowed.  

Interesting double standard.

Outing Bayard Rustin - Part Two

The day dawned cold and grey, with yet more rain predicted.  I donned hat, black leather car coat, gloves, and packed along a camera, pens, small tablet, and a little expanding umbrella in the coat's many pockets.  The local PFLAG president and her husband were unable to join us, as he is undergoing a second cataract surgery on Wednesday (didn't want to chance anything, marching in the cold and rain), but Mother and I picked up the banner and materials I'd already prepped from them.

We arrived at ten minutes to 11 at the Merced Amtrak station - only to find the block around it blocked by police (parade control). 

And we we in back of a group of horse riders.  So, Mother took a left, a right, went down two blocks to the next barricade, and I got out, toting banner, sections of poles, and bag with placards in neat plasticine envelopes. 

I looked around, and there was Tania, watching as the gap between the last group of marchers and grew wider.  A friend, Al, was introduced as we threaded the banner onto the poles and quick-marched double-time to catch up to the crowd.  The march had started - 10 minutes early.

And we marched - in the rain - keeping up a good pace, bringing up the rear of the groups, while the horse-riders behind us kept a sensible distance.

I'd mapquested the route:  1.1 miles to the Merced County Fairgrounds (900 MLK Jr. Way).

As we marched, I entertained Tanya with my account of marching on Sacramento 30-some years ago.  She, Al and I also passed the time by swapping accounts of our Native American roots.  Tanya has Aztec bloodlines, Al's Yacqui, and I'm one-eighth Cherokee, which I explained almost everyone seems to be.
 

Being "Cherokee" is a bit like having the name Smith. 

When our soggy little contingent arrived with all the other groups, I spotted Mother's car parked close to the exhibition hall where the speakers and celebration group counters were located. 

We took a moment to snap some photos of Al and Tanya, me and Al, and me and Tanya holding the banner - then disassembled and packed it all up. 

I don't know why PFLAG didn't have an informational counter inside.  I think it was a lack of planning, though I fear that it may have been apathy.  I'd like to think that it wasn't fear.

I found Mother inside, chatting with a friend from AARP and her writing group.  Tanya and I joined them.

After a nice large coffee with too much cream and sugar (prompting the merry African-American woman at the counter to comment: "Oh, you're just like me.  You like a little coffee in with your cream and sugar."), we took our seats and listened as the MC calmly and repeatedly said, "Please take your seats" (about eight times) until the crowd noise muted down.  Finally, he began by asking for a moment of silence in memory of Helen Nixon, who died last month.  As the hushed crowd (with only a crying baby or two) listened intently, he listed some of her many, many accomplishments over the last half-century and the first deacde of this new one.  My Mother, hearing Mrs. Nixon's name, said, "Oh, good.  I'm glad somebody remembered"  She and Helen had been pals in one of her writing classes.

We stood with the others for the Pledge of Allegiance.  A woman in front of me removed her hat for it, and a quick glance around showed me that almost everyone over the age of 10 was standing, hands over hearts, waiting as the Pledge began.  I have a voice that can, literally, be heard a block-and-a-quarter away, over traffic (classical voice training is a wonderful thing).  I'm afraid I may have alarmed a couple of folks in the row ahead of us by punching the last words:  "with liberty and justice for ALL!"  

The National Anthem was sung by the grand-daughter of the woman who had been listed as the soloist.  Grandma handed the microphone over after introducing Grand-daughter, who did us all proud.

One of the problems with our National Anthem is that most singers start off too high.  Unless one is a high tenor or soprano, the top notes have one screeching on "rockets' red glare." Mother sings alto, and I'm a bass.  Fortunately, the young woman began nice and low - the perfect register for all to be able to join in - which we did.  The second problem I've found with the anthem lies not in its tune, but in its performers, who all too often "Whitney Houston-ize" it - wild riffs and obligattos that show the singer is more interested in his/her own performance than in conveying the message.'  Our song leader once again proved to be top-flight.  Her voice, strong and sure; her diction impeccable. 

For me, the greatest fun came as we remained standing (after an invocation) to sing "Lift Every Voice and Sing", sometimes called "the Black national anthem" (words by James Weldon Johnson).  Mother and I had sung it the day before in church, as it was one of that Sunday's hymns at the "traditional" service.

I love the song, and cherish my memory of attending the Black Police Officers and Employees meeting in Long Beach some years ago with my boss:  one of the very few white AME (African Methodist Episcopal) ministers.  When we stood up for the singing, some of the folks at the tables near us looked somewhat askance at this unlikely pair.  And when we belted out the song, full-voice, strongly and vigorously, the quizzical looks turned to delighted smiles. 

This MLK Day, I thought the soloist had made a mistake with "Lift Every Voice."  Her pace was strong, slow, and deliberate.  I wondered how long it would take to get through all three verses and choruses printed on the back of the programs.  I discovered that, by taking it slow, singers have a chance to breathe so as to be able to make give every word and note their full value.  She sang only the first verse and chorus.  It was "sufficient unto the day."

Once and Future Marches

Yesterday, I contacted the contact for information about our local Martin Luther King, Jr. Day march, inquiring about whether PFLAG would be welcome in it.  
She promised to call me back.  

I also posted the information to AARP's "AARP Prism Network Online" group.  

My AARP mailbox alerted me that "Jane," a group member, had posted something related to my info. 

       Did she call back?  and, good for you! 

     Bayard Rustin is one of our gay history heroes, for sure.

     Jane

My reply: 

 

She DID call back.  We join the march at 11 a.m. at the Amtrak station and will march with the aforementioned items( see "Outing Bayard Rustin" ), AND the PFLAG group banner, to the fairgrounds.

I reported this to the PFLAG group at last night's meeting and our vice president was delighted.  Monday's her birthday.  She thought this was the "keenest" present she'd get.

Our current president, Jeane, and her husband Dave founded the group.  Definitely "friends," and very active.

The guest speakers were the former head of Ally Alliance in the SF bay area and her co-worker there.  Both had worked there years, and both had their positions eliminated (all positions were eliminated, in fact) by the economy tanking.  So they're continuing on doing what they were doing as volunteers.

I had to leave early (rehearsal), and gave them both my card, with e-mail address.  I want to see everything - especially their draft position papers and informational packets for schools.  Recent legislation requiring anti-discrimination policies and fair treatment of all students are currently being skirted by an "opt-out" status to parents who don't want any mention of gender equality, same-sex equality, etc.

And before the meeting, I got to chat with Blaine and his lover of many years, and discovered he'd graduated from my high school two years ahead of me.  His brother was one year behind me.  And now, he's the Gay/Straight Alliance advisor for our high school.

I'm looking forward to possibly speaking to the GSA.

The most heartening news was that, in the opinion of the Ally speakers (both with 5-15 years of teaching experience), the climate in classrooms has changed dramatically.  A large majority (about 3/4) of students know someone gay, accept and welcome their gay friends and relatives, and speak up on our behalf.  Mind you, this is in ordinary small charter schools as well as larger non-charters.  In classrooms, not just at GSA meetings.

I'm beginning to think that there may be a distant light at the end of the tunnel, and that it's NOT an on-coming train.  "These kids these days" may be derided by some, but I think the new generation gives great reason for hope - and though it's been in short supply of late, hope is something we can all use.

This will be the first time I've marched since the 1978 "No on Prop 6" Sacramento demonstration.

I was one of an estimated 80,000 marchers who turned out in the pouring rain to urge Governer Jerry Brown to fight Prop. 6's ban on gay teachers.  Gray Davis spoke in support.  Pouring rain.  My nice woolen pants and overcoat were completely sodden.

After a two-hour drive back to San Francisco, we sat around a fireplace in various states of undress, running dryers-full of clothes and towels, feverishly discussing strategy, and warming up with Irish coffees.

Not everyone was in the disco in the '70s.  

Outing Bayard Rustin

Merced, California is a former farm town/Air Force base bedroom community that's experienced a lot of changes in the 30 years since I last lived here.

We got the second-largest settlement of Hmong refugees placed here back in the late '70s, Castle Air Force Base (where I was born) was de-commissioned, and the tenth University of California campus opened here about five years ago.  Michelle Obama was the commencement speaker, and did a fine job on a sweltering 100+ degree July day.  That's summer in Merced.

I've become semi-active in our PFLAG chapter, and try to keep abreast of developments.  The Prop 8 federal case will be the first to address whether or not marriage equality for same-sex couple is a right guaranteed under the California State and U.S. Constitutions

. 

I think the case for overturning Prop 8, which mandates that marriage shall only be between a man and a woman, is strong.  And I also think that we'll lose this time.  So far, it's been the matter of equal treatment under the law that's been stressed.  I think the real linch-pin will be that Prop 8 passed with only about 53% of the vote; the California State Constitution clearly states that a two-thirds majority is necessary to make any amendments to the Constitution.

If one does the math, 2/3 is 66.67% - far less than 53%. 

This however, is not a point that's being addressed by the plaintiffs in this possibly-historic case.

The Merced Sun-Star had a small squib about this coming Monday's Martin Luther King, Jr. Day march and festival.   This year's theme is "Unity."

We'll march from the Amtrak station to the fairgrounds, and then the various speakers will speak, and the booths and exhibits of various organizations will be available for perusal.  PFLAG, however, didn't think to inquire about the event, so we won't have a booth there.  

But, there's always the food.

And there's always next year.

I called the contact who's co-ordinating the event, gave her my name, and asked if PFLAG would be welcome to be a presence in the march.  I also explained that PFLAG stands for "Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays," and said that, as Dr. King had said that "None of us is free until all of us are free," we'd like to participate.  Bayard Rustin, I went on, the man who had organized the historic March on Washington, D.C., was gay, but was kept in the closet because it was felt (at the time) that the issue of civil rights should focus on oppression of the Negroes (I'm using the terminology of the time).  Gently, I inquired whether, with this issue having been placed, in essence, on the back burner, whether it wasn't time to let gays and lesbians participate equally - moving to the front of the bus.

The contact thanked me for raising the question, and said my timing was good.  There's to be an organizational meeting this afternoon, and she'll bring up the topic.  

She took my name and number, and promised to call me back.

So, while waiting, I printed out a copy of my PFLAG Christmas card to President Obama, and got a mild brain storm.

If we're approved, we'll march.  I prepared five small placards:  the first (with PFLAG logo and rainbow letters in the title) says, "PFLAG - Unity for All."

The next is a portrait of Dr. King (Web search and graphics programs are a marvel).  Dr. King's name is below the portrait (as if his image weren't familiar to all).

The next says:  "None of us is free until all of us are free." - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

The next is a portrait of Bayard Rustin, with his name below.  I think this one will puzzle on-lookers.

The final placard says "Bayard Rustin organized the March on Washington, D.C.  Bayard Rustin was gay."

I'm looking forward to it.

Being the clever-boots artist I am, I'm also contemplating (for this coming summer's Pride Celebration in Modesto - the closest one to Merced) some t-shirts.

Picture this:  A black and white image of Rustin with below it the name "BAYARD RUSTIN."  The first and last names will be in large block letters, the first name on top of the last name . . . and how nice that there are six letters in each name to match the six colors of the gay pride flag.

I'm looking foward to that, too.