Listening to a podcast the other day I was introduced to the story of a freedom of speech pioneer.
Found this on the web that tells a little bit about Frank Kameny. Someone who was told to be a difficult person to be a friend with. But glad to know a little bit of his story.
Jonathan
Rauch writes about free speech. American freedom of speech and the
fact that it is not always what people think it is. He thinks that
every voice should be allowed to be heard. Even bigoted, stupid and
hateful voices. And he tells about some of the difficulties in
talking about freedom of speech.
What
happened was this. In 1957, the U.S. Army Map Service fired an
astronomer named Franklin Kameny after learning he was gay. Kameny,
unlike so many others, did not go quietly. He demanded reinstatement
from the U.S. Civil Service Commission and the Congress. When he got
nowhere, he filed a Supreme Court brief. "In World War II,"
he told the Court, "petitioner did not hesitate to fight the
Germans, with bullets, in order to help preserve his rights and
freedoms and liberties, and those of others. In 1960, it is
ironically necessary that he fight the Americans, with words, in
order to preserve, against a tyrannical government, some of those
same rights, freedoms and liberties, for himself and others."
In
1965, Kameny led dignified gay-rights demonstrations, the first of
their kind, in front of the White House and Philadelphia's
Independence Hall. (Signs said: "Denial of equality of
opportunity is immoral." "We demand that our government
confer with us." "Private consenting sexual conduct by
adults is NOT the government's concern.")
In
ones and twos at first, then in streams and eventually cascades,
gays talked.
They argued. They explained. They showed. They confronted. If the
pervasiveness of bigotry was supposed to silence them, as hate-speech
allegedly does, Frank Kameny missed the memo. "If society and I
differ on something," he said in 1972, "I'm willing to give
the matter a second look. If we still differ, then I am right and
society is wrong; and society can go its way so long as it does not
get in my way. But, if it does, there's going to be a fight. And I'm
not going to be the one who backs down."
Kameny
and others confronted the psychiatric
profession about its irrational pathologizing of homosexuality,
bombarded the U.S. Civil Service Commission with demands that it end
the ban on gay government employment, and confronted Christians with
their hardly Christ-like conduct. "If your god condemns people
like me for the crime of loving," Kameny would say, "then
your god is a false and bigoted god." In the 1980s and early
1990s, a few visionaries-Andrew Sullivan, Evan Wolfson-argued that
gay couples should be allowed to marry, a cause seemingly so hopeless
that even many gay people hesitated to endorse it.
Frank
Kameny lost every appeal to get his job back; the Supreme Court
refused to hear his case. In 1963, he launched a campaign to repeal
the District of Columbia's sodomy law and lost (that effort would
take three decades). He ran for Congress in 1971 and lost. But at
every stage he fired moral imaginations. He and others saw Jerry
Falwell and Anita Bryant not as threats to hide from but as
opportunities to be seized: opportunities to rally gays, educate
straights, and draw sharp moral comparisons. "Is that what
you think this country is all about? Really?"
To
appeal to a country's conscience, you need an antagonist. Suppression
of anti-gay speech and thought, had it been conceivable at the time,
would have slowed the country's moral development, not speeded it. It
would have given the illusion that the job was finished when, in
fact, the job was only beginning. It would have condescended to a
people fighting for respect.
I
am not naive about the bravery it took for Kameny and others of his
generation to step forward. They were hammered. They suffered
severely. Kameny lived long enough to be honored by President Obama
and, in 2009, to receive an official government apology from the U.S.
Office of Personnel Management, which by then was headed by an openly
gay man. But most of us are not Kamenys.
Apparently, years and years later, he got a formal apology for his firing
(and he asked for his back pay)
A remarkable story.
It makes me want to be a better person.
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