This Berkeley Tribe cover from March, 1970, which I added to The Seventies post,
can serve as my last political "street theater" before I immigrated to The Netherlands for eighteen years. On the ground are Debbie, Bob and me, with Ivan lying down, all of us naked of course.
"Freakin' Fag Revolution"
"Many in Chicago Gay Liberation had a Marxist leaning and we worked with many groups in coalition, including the Black Panther Party. We were really different from other gay liberation groups of the time in that we were political. There was this guy who prosecuted the Chicago Seven [Thomas Foran—Ed.] and he was running for governor of Illinois. One of his slogans was, “We’re losing our kids to the freaking fag revolution,” and so we all had buttons that said
that we were freaking fag revolutionaries."
And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good cap(r)on lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part.
...and so will have to catch up with you later about that which is remarkable ten or twenty years from now.
You've read elsewhere about that computer in Chicago that brought Alva and me together. His arrival in my life, as well as mine in his, brought Goldilocks to the 'just right' place. I joined Alva at 143 West Portola in Los Altos where he'd been living with Janet Lewis for eight years already. I was welcomed into Janet's home and we created a notoriously wonderful "menage à trois" for another eleven years, until Janet gently passed away at age 99.
Janet Lewis Winters was one of the most remarkable people I've ever known. She had so many friends whom she'd known for half or three quarters of a century. She was a poet and novelist, born in 1899 and still sharp as can be when I met her just as she was about to turn 88. I will tell you Janet stories in an upcoming post. And you'll be glad I did.
The world through my gay eyes since finding Mr.Right and settling down in the suburbs probably doesn't hold much excitement for you, dear reader. It's been a jolly three-peat of walking down the aisle with my guy, first time in 1993 under a big tent in Janet's back yard with 120 guests and a bright yellow cake; second time in 2004 in Portland, Oregon, declared invalid within a couple of months; and finally in the summer of marriages in 2008 before Prop 8 took away that opportunity for other same sex couples in California to wed... that is, until the Supremes had the critical mass needed to toss the horrid Prop H8 out.
And now, last week, last month, next week, next month, the celebrations, state by state, the ripples of equality, the expression of this country's declaration that we are created as equals roll forward, and this feels profound. For the high school girl in Missouri and the 7th grade lad in North Dakota, whether they ever get married or not, there are stirrings of a new time. Gay Liberation is for all of us, dear reader. Every one of you can see the change afoot. This is a time to rejoice, and carry on, widening our embrace to include the disenfranchised and marginalized we tend not to see in our everyday life.
I was born to teach and learn. My future opportunities to do so may be with pre-schoolers, the elderly, youth or the middle-aged. To you, whatever your age or demographic, I cheer you on. If your life growing up taught you to fear, reach toward the light. If you were blessed with a growing up time that loved and accepted you, hold that torch high, for many are still tip-toeing in the near-dark. All of us who witnessed and were part of these decades of learning to start walking the walk we all have been talking about since time immemorial, lift up your eyes.
The world needs each of us to carry on, not just enjoying new-found freedoms, but also looking in the eyes of friends and of strangers. Children are still being thrown out of their families, teenagers are still so fearful about the dangers of their passions that they are anaesthetizing themselves in place of celebrating their sexualities, and older people are still hiding in plain sight because they were taught to feel separate, unworthy of love, and do not know the way to freedom. Across the seas, our brothers and sisters are living in fear of being stoned to death or beheaded because of their love.
Stand with us. Walk with us. Sing with us. Weep with us. Rest your weary head on our shoulders. My liberation arrives when your's does, when her's does, when their's does.