My time before the Supreme Court was nothing like Anna Nicole Smith’s. No black pantsuit, no blonde hair, just me, in name only, a citation in an amicus brief filed in the landmark gay rights case, Lawrence v. Texas. An article I wrote in 2000 while covering the public health beat for a gay news service was apparently worthy of inclusion, along with the works of such luminaries as Camille Paglia and Ruth Bader Ginsberg. In secret heart I saw – finally – a big break for my very own E! reality TV series.
Until, of course, I realized the brief was filed in an argument against the gay couple.
As you’ll recall, the U.S. Supreme Court did side with the plaintiffs, two men arrested while having consensual sex in the privacy of their home. The ruling struck down sodomy laws across the country while affirming the right of same-sex couples to express their intimacy.
When I wrote the article cited in the brief, “Gay and Bi Men Less Likely to Disclose They Have HIV,” I never thought it would be fodder for propaganda by several vocal anti-gay organizations. Perhaps I was naïve.
The piece reported on a study presented at the XIII International AIDS Conference that found that among casual sex partners, gay and bisexual men were not as forthcoming about their HIV infection as heterosexual men and women were. Among steady sex partners, however, gay and bi men disclosed their infection as often as heterosexuals. The San Francisco Examiner quoted the study author as concluding that “the good news is that most HIV-positive people – gay men, straight men and straight women – are either abstinent or have sex only with disclosure.” Yet lawyers who drafted the brief used the study to build a case for “the devastating consequences of… a fundamental right to engage in private consensual same-sex.”
Why cover this study? Because it benefited the community to know the facts, even if some were difficult to face. With facts in hand, public health officials and communities can engage in open, honest dialog, and together work to implement practical, culturally-appropriate solutions that reach the outcome of improved health. Without transparency, without the right to speak frankly in a public forum, public health is cut at the knees. Imagine trying to curb cigarette smoking if special interests were working day after day to make the subject of tobacco smoke too taboo to speak of: We’d fail.
Gay health advocates have documented in surveys what we know from common sense: reinforcing negative perceptions about gay people encourages patients to hide their sexual orientation from their doctors, making adequate care difficult. The president of the Human Rights Campaign got it right when he said: “Healthcare providers need the complete picture to give the best care possible and patients need to know their honesty will be welcomed.”
Looking back, did the article serve a greater purpose to the gay community by informing them of a salient study or did it undermine the community by giving anti-gay voices an opportunity for exploitation? The former, without a doubt. What choice do we have, after all, than to support valuable research about the health and wellness of the gay community and share the outcome to produce a change for the better?
And let’s not be afraid of those who would twist the facts for political gain. The Supreme Court ruling, after all, shows how short-sighted that strategy is.
In the years I worked as an editor of two different queer newspapers, this was an argument I often had with other community leaders. Not just around health issues, but around many aspects of the queer community. It used to frustrate me how angry community leaders would get when I reported about topics such as sex clubs, public cruising, meth addiction, racism within the LGBT community, pornography, etc.
The argument was always, “our political enemies read your paper, and this becomes fodder for their attacks.”
Ultimately, though, I realized that these arguments were not really based on communications strategy. The more I spoke with the people upset with these types of articles, the more I began to hear derogatory or dismissive comments about the more “flamboyant” or “stereotypical” members of our community. I’m convinced that many of our most cautious leaders–those who spend the most time worrying that honest discussion of queer culture will lead to negative perceptions–suffer from a kind of internalized heterosexism that manifests in strong assimilationist attitudes. Their mantra of “we’re just like you” is challenged by any statistic, cultural trend or frank discussion of the foibles and quirks of the larger queer community.
I see analogies, as well, with the annual cry of dismay that accompanies every Pride season. Whenever we put the drag queens, go-go boys, topless feminists and leather daddies on parade, someone is going to complain that it sends “a bad message” to Middle America. I don’t believe it does, or if it does, I think that at least it’s an honest message about diversity within our movement.
If we spend all our time worrying about how the community might be percieved, and shielding people from the truth about the community as it is, I think we ultimately lose credibility with people who might otherwise come to celebrate diversity. The only people who are going to attack us using our own honest and agenda-free words are those who were going to attack us anyway.