It feels wild that it has not even been a decade since the U.S. Supreme Court decided Obergefell, ending marriage discrimination against same-sex couples. It felt like we were on this inevitable path to mostly universal acceptance. Being gay was different from so many other oppressions, in that anyone you knew — someone in your family, your best friend, your rabbi — could be out or come out as gay, lesbian, bisexual, trans, nonbinary or anywhere on the queer spectrum.
It felt like that allowed us a toehold into mainstream acceptance faster and more solidly than other groups who are victims of racial, religious, ethnic or other forms of oppression.
However, you only need to look at gendered oppression to see how being someone’s sister, mother, wife, relative or friend does not somehow protect against persecution, oppression and horrific violence.
I was not ready for the intensity of the backlash. Much of the resistance to same-sex marriage dissipated after an initial burst. The major exception is the resistance efforts that seek to overturn nondiscrimination laws, which prohibit businesses from discriminating in who they serve.
The fight against marriage is minimal compared to how violently these people have come for our children. It started with the efforts to ban trans athletes from athletic participation. Now it is attempting to ban any talk about being gay in education. The audacity of Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” laws. The witch hunts and efforts to censure people for wedding photos or Disney movies, and the campaigns to fire teachers who provide safe havens.
The chilling effect of laws like these ripple throughout the country. It emboldens those who want to censor. The efforts work. Target radically reduced or completely removed its visible support of the queer community in response to attacks.
The rhetoric gives me flashbacks to high school, after the Hawaii Supreme Court became the catalyst in the marriage equality movement by determining marriage discrimination was unconstitutional. Hateful pundits were given enormous amounts of airtime. It also resulted in the federal and state Defense of Marriage acts.
This backlash will fail. It will fail because one of the things almost all movements have in common is that they find places for joy. It is crucial to celebrate. Pride is a place of celebration. Pride is now big in dozens of smaller communities. It is no longer the last weekend in June, it is the entire summer season.
Pride is as much about joy as it is about resistance because one of our survival tools is our joy. We will go to our parades, our marches, our festivals. We will center in the fabulousness of ourselves and others. We will survive.
Jill Mullins is an intersectional feminist, attorney, activist and much more. She has written for NW Lawyer, King County Bar News and LGBTQ+ outlets.
Read more of the June 21-27, 2023 issue.