When I decided to attend a panel entitled "Homosexuality and Society" sponsored by the Tufts Republicans and the Article 8 Alliance, I was expecting to be offended. I was expecting to be shocked, disgusted, and frustrated. These expectations were not disappointed.
The night opened with a talk by president of the Article 8 Alliance Brian Camenker, who presented an argument against what he called "the homosexual movement" that is almost not worth repeating here. He privileged the audience with a history I would guess none of us had heard before - the story of the peaceful 1960s and the surprising ease with which Civil Rights were granted.
He asserted that when certain groups (meaning those who support gay rights) use any sort of force to get their message across and gain access to rights, something must be wrong. He contended that there is "no such thing as gay people," only people who have been so psychologically damaged in the past that they are driven to want to have sex with people of the same gender.
Throughout the evening, homosexuality was compared to everything from alcoholism to smoking cigarettes to (my personal favorite) playing on a hockey team. The message was clear: Being gay is a disease that can be cured. It is a mental abnormality. It is something from which we must protect our children. And it is anything but okay! All three speakers needed us to know one thing: We as heterosexuals are normal; everyone else is messed up as hell.
I support the concept of providing an alternative perspective on controversial issues, the concept under which this panel was assembled. I applaud the Tufts Republicans and the Article 8 Alliance for their intent to bring in representatives who hold opinions that are not popular here. It is essential to see both sides of these issues represented at Tufts, which is sometimes liberal enough to swallow up its few conservative voices.
In this case, however, I believe that the speakers inspired more pain than thoughtful discourse on the matter. I was disappointed in the approach of the first two speakers, whose utterly disrespectful tones seemed intended to offend, rather than inform people. I could cite numerous examples, but perhaps the most telling came in Dr. John Diggs' response to the very first question posed in the question and answer period. Professor Jonathan Strong, in a moving and eloquent
statement, asked Diggs what possible threat to public health his marriage to another man posed, declaring, "I haven't caused people to die." Diggs quickly and indignantly replied, "You have, sir," provoking a wave of shock through the audience.
Earlier in the night, Diggs had presented the argument that gay sex (or more specifically sex between men, since the existence of gay women was all but ignored) poses a serious threat to public health. He lumped what should have been more broadly referred to as "sodomy" into a category he called "gay sex," and then proceeded to list diseases linked with it. This is all fine and dandy, but clearly his leaving men and women who participate in heterosexual anal sex out of his argument is quite a significant omission.
Diggs also chose to cite statistics that were limited in scope and specific to small groups of people. He defended studies from the Netherlands involving issues surrounding homosexuality as being obviously unbiased, his reasoning being that because same-sex civil unions have been legal there for over ten years, there has been sufficient time for homophobia to have disappeared. (Note: This must mean that racism no longer exists in the United States, given the forty years that have passed in which Blacks and Whites have had the same legal rights.) In summary, Diggs had little plausible back-up for his work, and when challenged on any detail of it, he could only refer dissenters to his online article (www.corporateresourcecouncil.com).
I walked out the doors of Pearson 104 with a heavy heart. This panel reaffirmed to me the existence of a group of people who hold hatred as the core of their system of beliefs. I am sure they would disagree with me on this. But I ask, how else are we to interpret their views? "Hatred" is defined as a feeling of dislike so intense that it demands action. This group of people insists, "There are only heterosexual people with homosexual problems."
They maintain that their views, not mine, define my sexuality, and approach the possibility of defining oneself as other than heterosexual with a great amount of scorn and anger. They name those who choose to call themselves Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, or Transgender as the victims of a mental disorder rather than human beings with a healthy sense of who they are. Hatred was exactly the emotion expressed by the three gentlemen who spoke Wednesday night, and to say that this emotion is a dangerous inspiration is a gross understatement.
I wanted to ask these three men what great threat the queer community poses to them. What threat is so frightening that it prompts them to spend their time working against people who simply want rights equal to those of every other American? Why does it matter to them who I fall in love with? Why do they care if I choose to have sex with a man or with a woman? Unfortunately the question and answer time was cut short by a half-hour, so many of these questions were left unanswered.
I did not leave the night completely disheartened. I felt strong in the presence of so many members of the LGBT community and their allies, and proud when I looked around the room to see so many rainbow pins displayed on shirts and backpacks. The overwhelming sense in the room, which prevailed over the vicious tone set by the panelists, was one of hope and support for each other as human beings. And to me, that is a much stronger message than anything posed by the three speakers Wednesday night.
Meghan Saunders is a junior majoring in English<$>
