We thought we
were winning. But no.
Until a few days
ago, California's proposed anti-gay constitutional
amendment, Proposition 8, was lagging in the polls. Now
we're the underdog. What happened?
No on 8 campaign
leaders convened an emergency conference call with LGBT
reporters on Tuesday to get the word out: Prop 8 is now
ahead by four points, and if we want to win on
election day, we need to flood the No on 8 campaign
with money.
"We're being very badly outspent," said
pollster Celinda Lake, who joined campaign consultant
Steve Smith and Equality California's Geoff Kors on
the call. Lake attributed Prop 8's new hot
streak to a biting TV ad that premiered last week --
and to the massive media buy for that ad made possible
in part by the deep pockets of the Mormon Church.
"Polling tells us that their ad is really
breaking through... it's not just a base ad.
It's convincing to voters across the broad
spectrum," she said.
"It's gonna happen, whether you like it or
not!" rasps San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom
like a leering carnival barker in the pro-8 television
spot. After that, a Prop 8 spokesman ticks off a list
of dire consequences that California will suffer if
Prop 8 goes down to defeat: "People sued over
personal beliefs! Churches could lose their tax
exemptions! Gay marriage taught in public
schools!"
The ad's
histrionics would be funny. Except that so many voters seem
to agree.
Talk with Prop 8
supporters and their anger is startling, even
shocking.
All that emotion
was front and center at a joint informational hearing
held October 2 in Los Angeles by the state senate judiciary
committee. Among the 200-odd attendees, the Yes on 8
contingent was slightly outnumbered. But they
exemplified the outrage fueling the pro-8 campaign.
This Prop 8
hearing was routine. Every California ballot
initiative must go through a similar public hearing on
its way to election day. The panel, chaired by Sen.
Ellen Corbett, comprised several senators and assembly
members quizzing witnesses on both sides of the issue.
Berkeley law
professor Goodwin Liu drew smiles as he addressed the
accusation that, by deciding in favor of marriage equality,
California's supreme court justices crossed the
line and became activist judges.
"Judicial
activism," Liu pointed out, "is used by all
sides as shorthand for any decision they don't
like." Asked if the court overturned the
will of the people, Liu thought not, arguing that -- thanks
to huge progress since anti-gay Prop 22 became law in
2000 -- the decision to overturn Prop 22 could be
described as "majoritatian."
Pro-gay speaker
Sam Thoron is already known to TV watchers as the
dad-of-a-lesbian who appears with wife Julia in No on
8's currently airing TV spot. Just as the
tone of the Thorons' calm TV presence points up
the opposition's hysteria, Thoron himself won high
marks for graciousness: "In 46 years, a great
deal of love has flowed between [my wife] Julia and
me," he told the legislators. "It
shouldn't be any different for my
daughter."
The heat rose
with Dr. Jennifer Robeck Morse, whose voice shook as she
described gay marriage as a dire threat to children.
"Same-sex
marriage separates a child from at least one of its
parents," declared Morse, eliciting vigorous
nods and mmm-hmms from Pro-8 supporters in the
audience, some of whom had begun their day by waving
Yes on 8 placards at the traffic outside on Spring St.
As speaker
followed speaker, Prop 8 supporters labored to paint
themselves as tolerant of gays. "They've
got their civil unions," one picketer told me.
"They'll be fine." Yet homophobia
was the elephant in the room. Without it, the
arguments against marriage equality fell flat.
Insisting that
her objection to same-sex marriage was all about the
children, Morse parried a series of reductio ad absurdum
questions by Assembly members Paul Krikorian and Mike
Feuer. Under Morse's criteria, should
elderly heterosexual couples only be allowed to register
as domestic partners? What about infertile young
couples? What about divorce -- for the sake of
the children, should that heterosexual institution be
outlawed as well?
"I'd rather be working on divorce,
honest," said Morse, while yielding the
validity of all the hypotheticals.
Assemblyman Mike
Jones wasn't having it, calling Morse's
save-our-children stance "utterly a pretext, given
all the other situations you're willing to
accept." Prop 8's real intention was clear,
Jones argued -- to render gay marriage, and only gay
marriage, illegal.
In his testimony,
Anthony Pugno, general counsel of Protect Marriage, was
surely one of the first legal minds to conflate gay marriage
with capital punishment. Openly gay senator
Sheila Kuehl had asked whether California law
contained a precedent depriving citizens of an already
established right. Pugno argued that voters reinstated
California's death penalty after the court
outlawed it.
Anti-8 witness
John Perez, an openly gay union organizer, likened the
measure's "less-than" message to that
of the lullaby his mother heard each night as a child
at boarding school: "God made me/ He made me
in the night/ He made me in such a hurry/ He forgot to paint
me white.
Apparently
nothing that was said all morning changed minds. During
the hearing's final hour, when members of the public
rose to speak for and against Prop 8, patience frayed
and tempers exploded.
A self-described
mom and grandmom accused the legislators of extreme
liberal bias. "You will hear our voices! We voted you
into office and we can vote you out!"
Corbett responded
mildly that her conservative colleagues had been
invited to the hearing but that none had chosen to attend.
That distaste for
gays occasionally broke through. One man took the
podium to declare: "If I joined the Girl Scouts
organization, I would pollute it. Gays should not
be allowed into the marriage organization for the same
reason."
The word
"pollute" drew a reproachful groan from No on
8 supporters in the audience. As the hearing broke up
a few minutes later, I found the man and asked him to
amplify his point. He agreed but refused to give
his name or say where he lives, saying he was physically
attacked while speaking at an event similar to this
one.
"I'm not allowed to enter the Girl Scouts
because who I am is fundamentally at odds with who
they are," he said. "I'm just in no way
like them, namely, I'm too old, I'm the wrong
gender, and if I was to enter into their lifestyle,
into any of their meetings, I would completely disrupt
who they are, who they always have been, what they
stand for, and what they do. Analagously, gays who attempt
to enter the marriage institution are the same as me,
because gays are -- how do I say this?-- gay marriage
is an oxymoron."
Why an
oxymoron?
"Let's say I am a gay man who wants to marry a
gay man. And I go through the ceremony and I get a
piece of paper, and they say that me and this other
guy are now married. But am I really? In what sense am I
functionally married compared to a real, traditional
marriage? We can't produce any children.
If we import somebody else's biology into our
relationship and thereby have some quote children, quote,
then it's an extreme systemic disadvantage for
children to be in that environment.
"So,
functionally, me being married to a gay man is
not at all similar to me being married to my actual wife...
It changes the meaning of marriage."
This man
wasn't crazy or ill-educated or, in his view,
homophobic. As Proposition 8 hits the home stretch,
that's the challenge. Whatever he said out
loud, the man's objection to same-sex marriage came
down to this: Just because. Because I said
so. Because it's how I feel.
For him and
others, the anger is volcanic -- all the more combustible
because it has to be suppressed. After all, one slip of
the tongue could puncture that tolerant and reasonable
air the Yes on 8 folks know they must project if they
want to win. Given the conservative track record
of discipline and cohesion, that's unlikely.
Celinda Lake, the
No on 8 pollster, observed on Tuesday that 20% of
California voters are still undecided on Prop
8. "That's more than enough to
provide a resounding victory for either side," she
said.
Gays and their
allies had better unleash their A game.