Almost a Year after the Passing of Proposition 8: Racism, Sexuality, and Dialogue

In November of 2008, only three months after I began pursuing a master’s degree in the Department of Sexuality Studies at San Francisco State University, tension and conflict between white gays and lesbians and both queer and straight people of color erupted after Proposition 8 passed. I was still adjusting to the stress of a graduate reading load and the fact that I was now living alone in a new city with no family and virtually no friends from back home when I realized that a racist blame game had manifested.

I’m sure readers are well aware of exactly what transpired. Frankly, white gays and lesbians unleashed a flurry of blame on people of color for the oppressive proposition’s success. People like Dan Savage blamed African Americans, calling them a “threat to gay Americans.” Others blamed Latin Americans, citing their “traditional family values.” And still others blamed Asian Americans. (Of course, in January 2009, Patrick J. Egan from New York University and Kenneth Sherrill from Hunter College-CUNY released a study titled “California’s Proposition 8: What Happened, and What Does the Future Hold?” that debunked the myth that race had much to do with one’s decision to either vote for or against 8.)

At the time, I was so angry at the seemingly unapologetic racist reactions of so many white gays and lesbians that I wanted to distance myself from any and all mainstream gay politics. As a few of my friends in and out of the Sexuality Studies Department can attest to, I was ready to renounce anything “gay.” Fortunately, the tense environment of the time gave rise to frequent public and private discussions about what went down and how to better the relationship between white queer folks and people of color.

Despite the fact that I was enraged by the racially-motivated responses to the success of 8, I was pleased to witness and be part of lively dialogue wherein homo- and hetero-sexual people of color constructively expressed unhappiness about white privilege and racism among gay whites, while the latter seemingly listened. The discussions I was a part of took place in a number of venues with people outside and inside of the academy; in fact, a couple of them occurred in my graduate seminars. In a state of naive excitement, I thought maybe this is the beginning of widespread, active, honest, sympathetic, and, very importantly, sustained public and private talks about the intersections of race and sexuality. Unceasing conversations in which individuals can speak openly and honestly—while others are critically engaged in listening—are undoubtedly essential for deep socio-cultural and political transformation.

Unfortunately, almost a year later, it seems to me that these energetic discussions have largely diminished. I’m also skeptical of how effective the post-election day dialogues actually were because of their temporary nature. I continue to hear white gays and lesbians in San Francisco make sometimes subtle and other times overt racist jokes and comments. I also continue to witness white homosexuals deny any responsibility for and recognition of not only the United States’ contemporary racist disposition but also history. Even some fellow white graduate students, as I recently observed in one of my courses, currently refuse to acknowledge something as basic such as that for US slave societies, race defined the most fundamental divisions. They instead prefer to argue for the “more important” issue of class.

One of my hopes is that Californians, and the rest of the nation, learned something from what happened after November 4, 2008. Something in particular I hope we learned, if not were reminded of, is that racism even among oppressed and marginalized groups is still alive and kicking. Another one of my hopes is that we recognize how important critical and compassionate discussion is if we are concerned with positively changing society, culture, and politics. However, I feel it is important to resist totally relying on fleeting—perhaps even superficial—episodes of public and private conversations to aid in solving our problems. Such talks will likely only produce short-term effects. If what we are striving for is long-term and deep change, then what might actually be useful is meaningful and sustained dialogue.