by Adele Carpenter
Dear Friends,
I am writing because I am disturbed by the string of articles, blog entries, and list serve threads that have come out in the last few days suggesting that the high turnout of African American and Latino voters for the presidential election was responsible for the passage of California’s proposition 8, which dealt a heavy blow to LGBT families by banning gay marriage.
These articles mistakenly imply that the struggles for civil rights for LGBT people and communities of color are separate or even at odds with each other. They deny the work that LGBT people of color do to combat homophobia and transphobia in their families and communities, often while facing racism within the queer community as well. These articles deny homophobia among white people, and they displace blame away from those who actually have the power to consistently deny others civil and human rights, and instead, charge that when communities that have long been disenfranchised and alienated from political processes begin to participate, that the results with be negative for LGBT people.
I believe all communities need to be held accountable for their homophobia and transphobia. I want to acknowledge the suffering and hardship that the passage of Proposition 8 has caused for LGBT couples and families. But, while the media casts blame on communities of color for the failure of civil rights for LGBT people, it is imperative that we struggle against the logic that tells us that struggles for LGBT civil rights and racial justice are separate, and that we examine our strategies for advancing LGBT civil rights and gay marriage and, in particular, look at places where LGBT communities have failed to align our struggles for civil rights with ongoing struggles for racial justice.
In the months leading up the election, I saw a massive mobilization within the queer spaces in which I spend time in San Francisco to get people to vote no on 8. We live in a state that has one of the highest incarceration rates in a nation with the highest incarceration rate in the world. Studies have estimated that at any time, 40 percent of black men in their 20’s in California are under control of the correctional system. Criminalization affects many LGBT people, in particular, those that may be experiencing addiction or who, lacking familial support, move to expensive cities where they may have a hard time accessing affordable housing and living-wage work. Despite this, I saw little or no public discourse among LGBT people about very important state propositions: 5, 6, and 9, all of which potentially impacted things like funding for prisons, alterations to sentencing for drug crimes, or the trying of minors as adults in this state.
In the last months, we have seen raids by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) throughout the state and in San Francisco. Many people immigrate here as a result of the US foreign policy of destabilizing foreign economies. Additionally, San Francisco is home to many LGBT immigrants who have come to the country seeking safety and asylum. While my inbox was flooded with emails pertaining to Prop 8, I heard from very few queer people who were seeking to mobilize around the October 31st demonstration to protest ICE raids, or other work pertaining to ICE raids, and San Francisco’s establishment as a sanctuary city.
The November ballot contained several important city initiatives that could have affected the livability of our city both for low-income people of color and for many queer people. Proposition K, an initiative to decriminalize prostitution would have helped sex workers in this city to make major strides in their ability to organize for their rights and safety, allowing them to better protect themselves against violence and police harassment. Despite the fact that many, many young LGBT people in this city earn their livings as sex workers and daily face risks to their safety, and that two trans women working as sex workers lost their lives while working in San Francisco in 2007, I saw shockingly little effort among LGBT people to educate themselves on the realities facing sex workers or the background on Proposition K, let alone to spread any word about it.
Similarly, proposition B, which would have mandated that the city set aside part of its budget for affordable housing was defeated by SF voters. In a city with a history of racist schemes of redevelopment and displacement (SOMA in the 60’s, Justin Herman’s redevelopment of the Fillmore, illegal evictions in the Mission in the 90s, contemporary cuts to county welfare, and most recently, the gentrification of Bayview—to name a few), San Francisco voters have failed to stand up for working families’ ability to live affordably in this city—a city with where remaining working class communities of color face major threats of displacement. Despite the fact that white LGBT people often play complicated roles in the gentrification of the city and displacement of communities of color, I saw no media reports released on November 5th scrutinizing the voting trends of white LGBT San Franciscans on Propositions B, N, K, 5, 6, or 9, as juxtaposed to the numerous articles scrutinizing the voting habits of Black and Latino voters on Prop 8. And despite the overwhelmingly negative outcome of several important local and state propositions, outcry among the wider LGBT community seems to have been reserved only for Prop 8.
As a young, queer, person living in San Francisco, I feel very strongly that affordably in this city is vital to the creativity and well being of the LGBT community of San Francisco. As a white person living in the Mission, I have to think and act critically in regards to the complicated role I play in the gentrification of this neighborhood and the larger schemes of displacement within this city. I love my queer life and love living in this city. I get to witness the ways of living and congregating, making new families, new cultures, and envisioning new worlds that are possible living in a city with so many other brilliant and creative queer people. While I would like to lend my support and compassion to the people who lost the right to marry this week, I also question the logic that tells me that my only struggle as an LGBT person centers around my right to marry, rather than my ability to live and create in many other ways within a city I love. Affordable housing is central to the vitality of the LGBT community in San Francisco, to all communities, and while I sign petitions to support marriage as a right, I would like to see LGBT Californians take a serious look at the fact that housing, healthcare, and freedom from incarceration are also civil and human rights.
I would like to see LGBT Californians talk not only about their right to receive their partners’ health benefits but about universal healthcare. I would like to hear us talk not just about how many LGBT people’s partners cannot receive citizenship rights because of a lack of marriage rights, but connect this to struggles for immigrant rights in this state. I would like to hear LGBT people not only talk about how their families are discriminated against, but think about how many families in California are living in alternative family structures because of the mass incarceration of parents with children.
The passing of Proposition 8 is a sad day and indicative of the work that lies ahead, however, as we heal from these blows, I would like to challenge us to consider how our struggles are bound up with struggles for racial and economic justice, and how our fight for civil rights, and the health of our communities could be strengthened by taking these connections more seriously. Above all, I would like to challenge us to resist racist media schemes that, during our moment of need and a moment of possibility, are attempting to pit LGBT people and supporters against communities of color in California.
I apologize for the hasty construction of this, but time is of the essence. I welcome your thoughts.
In struggle,
Adele Carpenter
yesyesready@gmail.com
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4 comments:
Wow, Adele. I think a lot of us need exactly this kind of wake up call. I have a lot of friends who are feeling ambivalent about their participation in the No on 8 stuff precisely because of some of the racist stuff that's come out of it. It's so important to always keep pushing ourselves outside the box in our thinking (as you do here). I really, really appreciate you taking the time to post this and would love to repost on my sites (with proper credit, of course), if it's ok with you. I don't think I could say it better myself!!
I'm in total agreement that there are other important causes in this community, this city, this country, and this world. But I also don't think that it reflects a lack of concern for other plights to focus on one that is immediately impacting our community. Yes, there is a long history of racism in the LGBT movement, and we need to change that. Yes, there are a lot of other problems to fix out there that aren't directly related to LGBTQ issues. But that doesn't mean that we shouldn't be outraged and organize over the taking away of our constitutional right.
The simple fact is that the No on Prop 8 campaign was founded to fight Prop 8. The fact that it didn't cover other causes is merely a reflection of the rule of politics: you appeal to the most people (or alienate the least number of people) if you limit your fight to as few fronts as possible. Simple messages win more votes.
People are most apt to fight for against whatever they see as directly affecting them. In this case for me (as well as for many other queer people I know), it was Prop 8. I wish we could get the same furor in the LGBTQ community over affordable housing or prison issues, but the fact of the matter is that people work the hardest to protect themselves.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that, while I totally agree that we need to look at our world through a larger lens, I also don't think we as a community should feel that we are somehow lacking for organizing against this discriminatory proposition. This was one battle in a larger war to make the world more equitable for everyone. I pray that we can learn to extend that fight beyond our own immediate concerns and see how all efforts for equality are our fights. Since that's what we're asking of our opponents, it's only fair that we ask that of ourselves. But I'd like to find a balance where I can fight for this cause that I find most important to me and still be part of the greater fight for equal rights for all.
hey, beck.
i think where i disagree is that prop 8 is "the" issue directly affecting queer people/LGBT people. I think it is the issue affecting LGBT people who have the political power and money to put forth universalizing agendas that are supposed to speak for other people. As a queer person myself, I don't think gay marriage was the primary issue on the ballot affecting me, my friends, or loved ones, and I know I don't speak alone on that. I also think this brings up long term questions of strategy, direction, and alliance-building. Looking at just how the No on 8 campaign was run would miss the larger picture. I do have huge concerns about how the campaign was run, but I also have larger concerns about the politics within the LGBT world that led up to this political moment and this campaign.
Adele,
I hear you. Like you, I also don't think this was the most important issue facing every queer person in California. But I do think that a large portion of our community did feel that it was, which explains the groundswell of support for defeating Prop 8. Of course, whether that was due to them being convinced of that by the campaign or due to their own personal feelings about marriage is a really valid question.
So...where do we go from here? Do we accept defeat on Prop 8 and move on to other issues? Do we keep fighting for marriage equality because that's the fight we're in, even if it may not be the fight that we want? Or is there a way to do both? And, if there is a way to do both, is that what we should do?
The important thing to me at this time is that I don't want to see our community lose its momentum. Of course, momentum is not good when it is accelerating you in the wrong direction. On the other hand, sometimes heading in a direction that is somewhere you eventually want to head but you don't think is best at this time is better than not moving at all. So what do we do?
I know that I've got way more questions than answers here. Maybe at another time when I'm not wolfing down a sandwich in between meetings I can start thinking about the answers. But I wanted to put the questions out there for anyone else to think about in the mean time. I know that was the idea of this blog, and I love it. We need to decide where we go from here for ourselves as individuals and as a community. Not making those decisions forces us to chose between accepting what others decide for us and feeling isolated from and unrepresented by our own community.
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