What a Difference 40 Years Makes … or
Does It? by George W. Zander
Where were you on June 22, 1969? Think about it.
If you were like most homosexuals (the word “gay” came later) you were probably
hiding, afraid of being discovered, beaten up, jailed or murdered. You
probably didn’t know that there were others like you, and you most
certainly didn’t feel good about yourself, much less, proud. There
were a few gathering places that were hidden away in the seediest parts
of large cities, mostly near the Greyhound bus station. (Why was that?)
In those spots, the queers met—all of them—daddies, queens,
lesbians, old and young, rich and poor, and all the ethnic groups. That
was it. Seedy, hidden bars. The only sense of community. Remember?
There were a couple of forward-looking but conservative “political” groups,
such as the Mattachine Society, which was formed by Harry Hay and some
friends in Los Angeles in 1950, and the Daughters of Bilitis, formed
in San Francisco by Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon in 1955. They were the
founding mothers and fathers of the LGBT Civil Rights movement.
But what happened on June 22, 1969, was the “hairpin drop” that
was heard around the world. When the patrons of the Stonewall Inn decided
that they “were not gonna take it anymore,” they rioted against
police harassment for four days and nights. There was blood, arrests,
noise, burned police cars, smashed windows. Christopher Street opened
its gay soul, and much of the world listened.
Poet and longtime Greenwich Village resident Allen Ginsberg lived on
Christopher Street. He saw the chaos, and was reported to have said, “It
is about time we did something to assert ourselves. You know these guys
(at Stonewall) were so beautiful—they have lost that wounded look
that we fags have had for all of history.”
But brothers and sisters, what really happened was that we listened.
The gay community, one day down and depressed, became out and proud.
Amazing as it may seem, that is what happened. This was the time of the
student anti-war and women’s liberation movements, so folks were
on the streets and motivated. LGBTs were in those “mainstream” ’60s
movements big time, so when we realized that we were due a little freedom,
gay people started a firestorm to protest our own second-class citizenship.
By the early ’70s, the gay and lesbian movement was radicalized.
The more cautious Mattachine Society and Daughters of Bilitis were replaced
by groups like the Gay Liberation Front and the Gay Activist Alliance.
In many cities and university towns, grassroots organizations sprung
up. They began to demand changes in the way gays were viewed by the straight
world, and for protection from discrimination in jobs and housing.
After the Stonewall riots, a group planned festivals in New York, Los
Angeles (still known as Christopher Street West) and San Francisco
to celebrate the folks who were in the riots. They were called Gay Liberation
Day, and became the pride festivals of today. They quickly spread to
dozens of cities and towns in North America and Europe. Now there are
over 1,000 pride events worldwide and some are the largest festivals
in their cities and towns—Sydney, Amsterdam and San Francisco,
to name a few—who attract over a million folks. Mexico, South Africa
and most South American countries have them.
So if you find yourself thinking, “Oh dear, another pride day—boring,” remember
the kids in rural Alabama, or California even, who do not have a pride
festival, and are still living in fear of harassment, or being beaten
up, or shot in school. Be thrilled that we have a Pride Festival and
work instead to make 2009 the best ever.
Today, formal lobbying groups such as the Human Rights Campaign, Equality
California, the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, Parents, Family
and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, National Stonewall Democrats and the
Log Cabin Republicans are working more or less together. There are about
100 LGBT community centers offering support for youth, seniors and other
groups. If your checkbook does not contain donations to some or all of
them, get busy writing checks, or volunteering time.
In 1969, being gay took work and leadership and guts. Coming out meant
being fired from your job, losing your home and tons of harassment. That
is a long way from present-day Palm Springs.
Your June assignment, if you choose to accept it, is to think about that
for a while. Think about that as you walk hand-in-hand with your legal
spouse along Palm Canyon Drive—or with your not-yet legal spouse,
because we are clearly not done. Here in the desert, we have a city hall
that’s top-heavy (in a good way) with LGBT folks, and try to name
a business where there are not employees from our community, or a street
without LGBT neighbors, who are accepted and out. Not too many. We joke
about how the gay community is not the “alternative lifestyle” here.
We have come a long way, baby, but we are far from there. We need to
keep working, organizing, voting, playing hard, giving money to the people
and causes that will help us, until all of us in this nation and around
the globe realize our full equality.
If a bar full of folks on a warm night in 1969, mourning the death of
gay icon Judy Garland, could start a movement such us ours, we can at
least keep the candle burning. If you feel a little bit complacent here
in paradise, think about your LGBT brothers and sisters in Alabama, or
Fresno. That is what this battle is about and why it continues.
Yes, Proposition 8 was a major bummer, but thanks to a group of local
LGBT and LGBT-friendly community leaders, the Coachella Valley Marriage
Equality Coalition is up and running. We are growing, building lists,
and have planned four successful events—two rallies and two town
hall meetings. There will be another campaign so that more of us can
become legally married. We will be ready.
Nationally and around the globe there is fast movement toward our civil
rights. Several nations and U.S. states have legalized marriage, “Don’t
Ask Don’t Tell” will fall and our country will finally allow
soldiers, sailors and marines to serve out and proud. We have a president
who is clearly on our side and will be helping us all that he can. His
Proclamation declaring June 2009 as LGBT Pride Month shows classy and
unprecedented support for our community.
The future is bright, but not if you sit nice and comfy in Palm Springs.
We don’t need to break windows at Streetbar or Hunters, but we
do need to work as hard as those patrons of the Stonewall Inn did 40
years ago. Let’s not deny the folks at the Stonewall Inn their
legacy.