Prop 8 in California

I know very little about the political climate in California, but I have heard a lot from friends who are concerned and disappointed with the majority "yes" on Proposition 8. Some are supposing that the efforts to recruit typically underrepresented voters (read: Latin@s in particular) upped the number of conservative (read: Catholic) voters, which might explain the majority vote in favor of Propostion 8 to revoke gay marriage. I don't like it... there are thousands of people voting, I think it's pretty typical to pick a people of color group as a scapegoat, and I don't think the finger-pointing is productive, nor does it provide an accurate understanding of what happened. Those were just first reactions, but a friend sent me this e-mail that really helped flesh out some details and clarify a few thoughts in my mind. I don't know the author, but she comes highly recommended from a professor and another friend.


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