Thursday, December 18, 2008

I just came back from watching Milk. You know, the movie that's out now about Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man elected to a major political office.

It was really intense. I thought it was very powerful. I would encourage you, dear reader, to see it if you can. Wait for it to come out on DVD if you have to, but it should definitely go on your to-see list. I was crying after the lights came back up. (Is that a recommendation? I think it is.)

I wish that I had gone to see it with some queer-minded folks. I think the after-movie dialog could have been really great. Lots of emotion, lots of ideas. Powerful. I think this movie has the potential to start a lot of discussions.

So many of the arguments from the anti-gay characters in Milk (which is set in the 70's) are still being used today. That's ridiculous. That's more than just ridiculous, that's a sign that we have failed to cause enough fuss. Really, we have failed to cause the right fuss. We have failed to educate people, to reach out to them and show them that every person is a person. Every person has a right to live, to speak, to laugh, to love. And every person has the right to love whoever they want to, and if that person loves them back, then to hell with rules and regulations and naysaying. People are people, love is love. I don't care what form that person takes, what form their love takes. It's all good. It's all beautiful.

And Harvey. Harvey Milk. I hear there's a really good documentary about his life and death, and I would be very interested to see it. What a remarkable person. I can't imagine living my life knowing that there was a good chance someone would end it for me. I mean, there's always the chance that I'll get caught in a bad spot and something unfortunate will happen, but to be sought out for death is another thing entirely. But for all that, his message carried so much hope.

"I know that you cannot live on hope alone, but without it life is not worth living."

My God. To be a figurehead. What an incredible responsibility. To know that an entire movement, an entire demographic was looking to you to lead them, to gather them, to inspire them. What an incredible weight.

That, my friends, is civil service.

Mural by John Baden of Harvey Milk at 575 Castro Street, the former site of Milk's store, Castro Camera. Emerging from the gun at left is a quote from Milk: "If a bullet should enter my brain, let the bullet destroy every closet door".

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"One of the key things that he fights for after in office is opposition to Prop 6 which at the time was calling to have all out gay teachers and their supporters fired in an effort to get the "perverts" out of the schools. What disturbed me was the realization that this struggle was fought the year I was born, 1978, and well, that is just not that long ago. There are multiple scenes protesting different anti-gay legislation throughout the country all shot in the Castro and looked no different from those that only happened a few weeks ago after the passage of Prop 8, where protesters were also asking for the basic civil rights of gay people. As I watched the movie and as I have thought since the election, what will it take for our civil rights leaders to understand that gay rights is an issue of civil rights?

The story told in this movie is timely and relevant and a brilliant portrayal of what it took to build power in a community that had previously been powerless. It also shows how the majority of the organizers for gay rights were white men which is what has led to a predominantly white led movement for gay rights that has often ran in tension with lesbian rights and queer people of color movements for building gay power. The movie is cut with pieces of him recording a tape that is to be listened to if he is to be assassinated and at the end of the movie he declares that it is not just about gays, but also about Asians, blacks, immigrants, workers and the rights of all of what he calls, "us," a brilliant message that shows that the "other" is actually the majority. But Milk's dream of "us" has not been true in queer organizing since then and building an attempts at building international solidarity in building gay power.

So while the story of Milk is amazing, it is important to look at the impact his legacy. The Castro is currently one of the richest, whitest neighborhoods in San Francisco, where its base of gay men, has turned into wealthy gay white men, marginalizing most other types of people. It is known to be a hostile environment for youth of color that are frequently picked up by the cops and has had several of its bars protested for inhospitable treatment of black clientèle. Simply put, I have very few gay friends that hang out in the Castro anymore.

Milk adds to the mainstream dialogue around organizing that popped up after the Obama campaign. People are seeing what it looks like to build power in communities that have been previously unheard or rendered invisible, generally at the mercy of an unjust government and legal system. So then I had to think, what would an inclusive gay rights movement look like today? One that included single moms that are demonized as "welfare queens" and clearly disrupt heteronormativity to "sexual deviants" and radical queers. How do we align around the issue of our rights being protected or guaranteed? There are more of us that disrupt heteronormativity than there are that don't. And frankly, I think the most disturbing for many about the passage of Prop 8 and all the other anti-gay legislation around the country was the display of homophobia, even more so than the actual loss of the rights. What will it take for the majority of Americans to see queer people as deserving of civil liberties?"

wearenottheenemy.blogspot.com

I agree, Milk was fabulous. Also, a tear-jerker.