We are gay and straight together

Rev. Meg Barnhouse

October 9, 2011

It is exciting to live in the state capital. This weekend the “Occupy Austin” demonstration is starting, and it will go into early December. The people are angry about Wall St. bailouts with no gratitude or humility forthcoming from the folks who had to be rescued. We’re angry about credit card companies moving the due date of our payments to make us late, we’re angry about home foreclosures and predatory lending practices, we’re angry about out-of-control health care costs and the unavailability of health insurance for even middle-class citizens, we’re angry that people are not taken into account with as much near-religious fervor as is the bottom line dollar amount of the profit. We can stand on the capital steps and show the world that the people’s anger has been awakened, and change must come. This sermon is not about anger, though. This sermon is about love.

On the Capital steps next Saturday afternoon, there’s going to be a wedding. Or two. In the crowd will be Unitarian Universalists with our denominational banner, which reads “Standing on the Side of Love.” What’s that all about? It’s about some members of this community wanting to come out as straight allies to the cause of civil rights for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender citizens. It takes courage to come out as a straight ally. Heterosexual privilege not to think about it. To be one of the in crowd. To fit in well. Not to be seen as hell-bound. To bother with civil rights. To brave the scorn. To have your neighbors look at you askance.

This congregation has expressed a desire to be hospitable. Not just warmly hospitable, but radically hospitable. Let’s talk about that… this will not be the only conversation we have about it. I want to talk about it in a context in which I can hear from you as well, but here’s a start. Let’s just talk about being welcoming to GLBT folks.

There are many layers of welcome. The first is just saying “I don’t care who you are or what you do, you may sit next to me in worship on Sunday and I won’t imagine you’re going to hell or anything.”

The problem with that layer of “welcome” is that it’s not all that friendly or informed. And it’s easily irritated. It doesn’t want to think about the issues. It doesn’t want to get on a bus, register voters, get fire hosed, be called names, or have to hear too much about your struggle to adopt kids. If you are one of the “others,” you’re still on your own. Studies show that if the percentage of “others” gets to 20 percent, the main group begins to feel overrun, like “they’re taking over.”

A middle layer is a warmer, more aware welcome. People know the history of your struggle. They know the situation. Concerning GLBT issues, these folks know what Stonewall was, know who Harvey Milk was, they know what people who come out give up, and what they get. What do I mean “What people give up?”

In life we have privileges of which we are not even aware. That in itself is a privilege, the privilege of being able to choose whether to think about these things or not. In our racist society, if you are white European American, you don’t have to think about the privileges granted to you by being white. You may think about them if you choose to, but it is rarely forced upon you. As a heterosexual person, you are in the same situation. You have the freedom to conduct your life publicly without scrutiny or repercussion. You don’t have to explain yourself. People don’t get upset about your life partner….. Well, they might say “honey, you could do better,”, but they don’t usually go “eeeuw, gross, I could never even be in the room with one of those.”

Let me read you a partial list of things gay people give up when they come out. In most states you can’t get married. More than that, you don’t have much public support for your relationship. It is rare for a family to send anniversary cards. It’s a big deal for your friends and family to ask how your partner is, to send them a present at Christmas. In groups of my straight friends, if one of them is dating, there are enthusiastic questions about how the relationship is going. When I was dating, they would try — it would be “So, how’s — um –….” Not ever “what’s she like? How did you meet? What did she say when you did THAT?” At most workplaces it would be more trouble than it’s worth to have a picture of your family on your desk.

All of that is emotionally discouraging. It’s not as bad as the legal things you give up: paid leave from work at the death of a spouse (not to mention being able to grieve publicly without being accused of being blatant) And those are not as bad as the danger of losing your job, your apartment, or your life because of hostility toward your sexuality.

You give up:

The right to inherit automatically at the death of a spouse. The right to immediate access to a spouse in case of a medical emergency where only family is allowed.

Gay people give up the privilege of learning about relationships from a wide variety of fiction, movies, TV. They don’t have too many media images of folks with whom to identify

It can be dangerous to express affection in public. This is getting better, but there are still hate crimes against GLBT folks. If you, god forbid, have to be in the criminal justice system, you do have to worry about being mistreated or victimized because of your sexuality.

If you come out, you give up being able to:

. join the military and be open about your sexuality

. expect that your children will be given books in school that implicitly support your kind of family and that they will not be taught that your sexuality is a “perversion”

. approach the legal system, social service organizations, and government agencies without fearing discrimination because of your sexuality

. raise, adopt, and teach children without people believing that you will molest them or force them into your sexuality. Moreover, people generally will not try to take away your children because of your sexuality

. belong to the religious denomination of your choice and know that your sexuality will not be denounced by its religious leaders

. expect to be around others of your sexuality most of the time. You do not have to worry about being the only one of your sexuality in a class, on a job, or in a social situation.

In giving up these things, a GLBT person gains the sense of living truthfully and authentically, you gain a group of people to whom you belong, at some level, automatically. If you meet another GLBT person, you have an instant sense of some of what this person has gone through in their life so far.

What is the next level, beyond the kind of welcoming that understands all of that? The next level is being an ally. To want to stand shoulder to shoulder with by our GLBT friends by imagining what it would be like to let go of some of your heterosexual privileges for a span of time. I’m not suggesting that you give up getting married, but you may try acting for a week as if you have to be careful about touching one another in public, talking about your partner in gender-neutral language, imagining the vulnerability of your child custody arrangements. Refer to your doctor as “you know, that straight doctor I go to,” tell jokes about “there was this straight guy who went into a bar…” Speak up when someone is telling hateful jokes or assuming that everyone in the room, because they are straight, thinks being gay is weird and wrong, One way to speak up is to say something like “My daddy is gay,” if you don’t know the people.

Here is what the folks in the Spartanburg congregation did. They started a “Coming Out Coffeehouse,” where the church advertised in the paper that GLBT and straight allies were invited to a dance party. About 70 people came, three years running. Straight couples from the church danced next to and with GLBT members, and we had a great time. On Sunday, the adult program was “Ask a gay person anything you want to ask,” and a panel of volunteers fielded written questions from the floor. Whereas most UU congregations across the country are about 10% GLBT, that southern congregation is about 30% GLBT. There is still some ignorance. Two lesbian partners were on the Board at one time because the person from the committee who was supposed to ask the one to be on the Board got mixed up and asked the other one. Two middle ages women with salt-and-pepper hair and sensible shoes looked exactly alike to him, even though one is 5’4 and the other is nearly six feet tall. The wrong one said “yes,” so then he had to ask the right one too, and they served on the Board together.

Spartanburg SC had never had a pride march, and some community people and two straight women in the UU congregation organized the town’s first pride march. These two straight women went to the police and got protection for the marchers, went to the mayor and told him what was going to happen. Everyone was worried that there would be mayhem and violence. There were about thirty protesters, and about between three and four hundred marchers, both GLBT folks and their allies. I’m proud of that church too. Becoming an ally is what some of you straight folks here may be called to be.

We UUs are in the middle of a national campaign against hate, whether it is against immigrants, mixed-race couples, or GLBT folks. We call it “Standing on the Side of Love.” Many congregations are hanging big “Standing on the Side of Love” banners on the outside of their church buildings or on their church’s street side signs

Song: “The beauty in you.”