At a recent speaking engagement, I asked a group of people what the world would be like if from the day they were born prejudice had never touched their lives.
Imagine supportive families at home; no homophobic bullying in school; no trans-bashing humor on TV; no workplace discrimination; equal treatment of all families, regardless of orientation or gender identity.
And no closet, ever, because you had never, ever needed one.
A few shared things they would no longer fear, but they struggled to articulate the affirmatives that would replace those fears.
And one man wept. He said it broke his heart that he could not imagine, even for a moment, what his life would have been without the constant presence of bigotry and hatred he’d endured for more than 60 years.
I encourage everyone to try this exercise because I believe it is the pathway to our most potent tools in response to government-imposed second class citizenship: a sense of urgency, and a willingness to sacrifice to harness the transformational power of living “as if.”
“As if” the laws had already changed. “As if” society were just.
Sitting at a lunch counter that bans your presence is living “as if.” Keeping your seat when ordered to relinquish it to someone designated your legal superior is living “as if.”
Where are the places where we can contemplate the consequences of living “as if” equality had already arrived? Housing discrimination, workplace discrimination, adoption/custody issues and hate violence are constant threats in LGBT lives, but not in inevitable or predictable ways. So where are the “sit -in” opportunities for the LGBT movement.
Marriage laws and the military provide the most direct opportunities. These are the places the law specifically defines us as unequal; where we can make a reliable appointment with discrimination and be certain it will show up on time.
Service members who come out while on active duty and fight for the right to continue to do their jobs are a model for this kind of personal commitment and sacrifice. They decide not to participate in their own discrimination.
The civilian equivalent is marriage. What if those of us who are married lived as if our marriages are universally legally recognized? What if we literally refused to deny our spouse on any form, under any circumstances—ever?
When the government asks legally married couples in Massachusetts to file as ‘married’ in their state and then mark ‘single’ on the Federal Tax form, they are asking that couple to participate in their own discrimination so that the government doesn’t have to dirty its hands. They are literally demanding that we tell an untruth about our marital status so they can avoid confronting the difference between the hate-based discrimination they impose on us and the reality of our loving families.
Imagine the ripple effect of government-issued letters to married gay couples ordering them to deny their spouse on federal forms. We have to compel these moments by deciding that our lives will be about honesty and self-respect.
Even if it comes at a price.
Rosa Parks showed us that one person refusing to participate in their own discrimination will have an impact. But thousands of us, all of us, can decide to leave the discrimination up to the other side. We can refuse to collaborate in our own inequality. How?
We can refuse to deny our spouses, even when the law tries to force us to lie.
We can insist on paying our taxes as married couples, even though the federal government assess our taxes as though we were single.
We can risk being detained at the border by customs agents who insist we mark single on declaration forms despite the marriage certificate we hold.
It is increasingly clear to me that we must now do what civil rights movements have always done: with forethought and solemnity, we must place ourselves visibly at odds with an unjust law to provoke the consequences that can prick the conscience of our country.
This is a critical moment, when a reinvigorated national dialogue is raging about our place under the law. Are we willing to compel the government to be as ugly as it will have to be to enforce its determination that we are not married? Are we willing to say we are married, regardless of the costs?
‘No excuses, no delays’ is a fine rallying cry, but it’s one that has to cut both ways. When we call our on our government to take action we must also call upon ourselves to do more.
Every civil rights struggle in this country has required people to sacrifice and make institutionalized discrimination so visible no one could avert their eyes.
Every civil rights struggle in this country has required people to sacrifice.
The country is watching. Are we ready to do the same?
