LGBT

Gay, godly and guilty

The thoughtful new book "Straight to Jesus" reveals the torment suffered by gay Christians who entered a residential program to battle their sexual desires.

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Gay, godly and guilty

If you were looking for evidence of how hard it is to change our fundamental sexual proclivities — not minor aspects, like a taste for black lingerie, but the deep stuff, like whom we’re attracted to — you’d find plenty of it in Tanya Erzen’s thoughtful new book, “Straight to Jesus: Sexual and Christian Conversions in the Ex-Gay Movement.” Erzen spent 18 months hanging out with and interviewing the members and administrators of New Hope Ministry, which runs a residential program for evangelical Christian men who are “struggling with homosexuality” in the San Francisco Bay Area. She even volunteered in the ministry’s office, revamping its Web site, all as fieldwork for her dissertation. (She’s now assistant professor of comparative studies at Ohio State University.)

Erzen wasn’t interested in collecting fodder for political battles, though, and that’s what makes “Straight to Jesus” so enlightening. As an ethnographer, she made every effort to listen to and understand everyone at New Hope Ministry, whether or not she agreed with their beliefs (and it’s fairly clear that most of the time she didn’t). That’s practically unheard of in most popular discussions of charged issues like homosexuality — and rare in scholarly discussions, either. Nowadays, everyone’s convinced that they already know everything the other side has to say and that actually having to listen to it would constitute an insupportable demand on their own patience. Everyone thinks their side of the argument never gets any exposure, yet rabid, ranting opinion of all varieties howls at us everywhere we turn.

What emerges from “Straight to Jesus” is a far more nuanced and moving picture of the “ex-gay” movement than most readers will expect. If you’re like me, you probably view outfits like Love in Action and the other “reparative therapy” operations collected under the umbrella organization Exodus International as propaganda wings of the Christian right, populated by small coteries of delusional closet cases like the highly visible John Paulk. Paulk is an “ex-gay” man, married to the equally publicity-loving “ex-lesbian” Annie Paulk, but he’s perhaps even better known for being photographed in a Washington, D.C., gay bar in 2001, while ostensibly living a life of irreproachable heterosexuality.

In fact, scandals involving the sex lives of ex-gay movement leaders are so common (even one of the straight leaders, Kent Philpott, got busted for fooling around with his adopted daughter), that it’s hard for anyone outside the evangelical right to take them seriously. Add that to several prominent cases of parents forcing their gay teenage children into scary camps like Love in Action’s Refuge, an “intensive discipleship program” — and the fact that no reputable professional psychological organization endorses the idea that homosexuality is a mental “disorder” that can be “cured” — and the image of a pack of dangerous cultists is cemented.

Granted, Erzen didn’t study LIA — a richer, glossier operation than New Hope. She characterizes LIA as “extremely secretive,” which suggests that she might have approached them for her research and been turned down. New Hope has a funkier, shoestring quality. Its director, Frank Worthen, was one of the original founders of LIA, but he split with the organization in the 1990s. Worthen claims to have abandoned his early homosexual behavior for heterosexual marriage, and his wife, Anita, helps run New Hope. The house leader, a guy Erzen calls Hank (many names in her account have been changed to protect her subjects’ privacy), wears his hair long and walks around barefoot, unconventional touches that would surely be verboten at LIA.

But perhaps the most interesting thing that Erzen reveals about New Hope is how alienated many of the people there feel from the mainstream Christian right. “Initially,” she writes, “conservative churches rather than gay organizations opposed the establishment of an ex-gay movement,” when it emerged as a branch of the countercultural Jesus Movement of the 1970s. For Worthen, she reports, the fraught relationship between the ex-gay movement and conservative churches is “a central preoccupation.” Despite the Christian right’s insistence that they “love the sinner, hate the sin,” it seems that the homophobic faithful just don’t want to share their chapels with people whose past sex lives gross them out. The ex-gay movement, Erzen writes “envisions itself as a pocket of resistance and tolerance” by comparison, a view that would surely startle the gay protesters who picketed the ministry in its early years.

The friction between ex-gays who sought “legitimacy” from the Christian right and those who objected to its political agenda came to a head during a 1998 ad campaign sponsored by a coalition of conservative religious groups called the Center for Reclaiming America. In a bid for greater respectability and clout with fundamentalist organizations, Exodus allowed CRA to use testimonies — personal confessional narratives — by ex-gays in ads claiming that homosexuals could become straight with the help of Jesus and reparative therapy.

Erzen writes that Christian right kingpins like James Dobson (director of Focus on the Family) usually either ignored ex-gays or treated them as an “embarrassment.” But when the Christian right made anti-gay activism a keystone of its agenda in the ’90s, it needed ex-gays as evidence. If homosexuality is innate and unchangeable — as some, but not all, gay activists insist — then laws and practices that infringe on the rights of gays and lesbians can be likened to the injustices suffered by African-Americans and other ethnic minorities. But if the Christian right can succeed in characterizing homosexuality as curable and therefore a “choice,” gays and lesbians couldn’t claim they were being discriminated against.

A few key leaders of the ex-gay movement were willing to go along with this, and were made poster boys and girls for their cooperation. But most of the men that Erzen interviewed at New Hope “opposed any legislative efforts against gay civil rights, and they frequently spoke of their own identification with gay men and women, even as they rejected that label for themselves.” One of the men Erzen met told her, “What I don’t like … is the whole idea that we’re going to make it uncomfortable for you socially if you choose to be gay in this society — to the point of taking away your rights or even throwing you in jail. Anything along those lines I believe is repulsive.”

Not all of New Hope’s members would agree with this — one man told the others that he thought states should pass laws to “incarcerate” homosexuals — but many had major problems with the Christian right’s anti-gay policies. (Even Worthen, who was never consulted on the CRA ads after he supplied the testimonies, felt mistreated.) Most of all, they believed that the “change” offered by New Hope and other ex-gay ministries had been grievously misrepresented. Even men who had been part of the New Hope community for years didn’t consider themselves to have become heterosexual, and most didn’t think they ever would be.

Another New Hope resident told Erzen that the CRA ads were “too plastic … It made it sound like, ‘Ta da, just walk through our program and it will all be changed.’ I felt like it wasn’t completely honest and it smelled like Christian cheesiness.” The way the ex-gay men that Erzen interviewed saw it, they were unlikely to ever be free of same-sex desires. For them, the New Hope program promised a religious transformation more than a sexual one. They considered heterosexual marriage to be the ideal they aspired to, but it was a dauntingly remote one. Quite a few were simply resigned to living the rest of their lives in celibacy.

Contrary to what the Christian right proclaims, ex-gay programs operate more like 12 Step regimens than like psychiatric treatments for, say, depression or bipolar disorder. Worthen and other gurus of reparative therapy often speak of homosexuality as a form of addiction, and just as AA holds that an alcoholic is never really “cured,” only “sober,” they caution that relapses or “sexual falls” remain an ever-present threat to the devout ex-gay. AA members refer to themselves as alcoholics even when they’re not drinking, and, Erzen believes, “ex-gay” is a similar identity group, an unsettled and perilous condition rather than a firm relocation to heterosexuality.

“Recovery and relapse are built into the creation of an ex-gay identity,” she writes, “and sexual falls are expected. Rather than becoming heterosexual, men and women become part of a new identity group in which it is the norm to submit to temptation and return to ex-gay ministry over and over again.” That’s one reason why the sex scandals involving Exodus leaders don’t discredit the therapy in their eyes.

Nevertheless, because the ex-gay movement is deeply invested in the possibility of change, it needs to believe that homosexuality is a matter of nurture, not nature. As a result — and this is an irony that Erzen points out repeatedly — their belief that almost every aspect of conventional masculine and feminine roles is inborn lives alongside their conviction that homosexuality is purely the product of a dysfunctional family environment. For gay men, this rationale holds that boys who insufficiently bond with their fathers suffer from an unfulfilled longing for a masculine identity that mutates into an erotic desire for men.

Reparative therapy’s prescription for correcting this condition is to concentrate on forming strong platonic relationships with other men. Conventionally manly behaviors like sports and camping are mandatory. This results in a program that tries to cure men of same-sex desires by installing them in all-male, dormitory-style housing, decorated (in one memorable detail Erzen offers) with posters of Jesus wearing short hair, blue jeans and a workshirt, and punctuated with expeditions in which the men sleep together in tents. Such a plan would strike anyone comfortable and familiar with gay culture as laughably daft and self-defeating — “curing” homosexuality by piling gay men together in close quarters with Village People depictions of the Son of God — but that’s their story, and they’re sticking to it. Needless to say, affairs, relapses and defections are pretty common, despite the Big Brother-style surveillance imposed on all residents.

Why would anyone subject themselves to such an onerous regimen, followed by a life spent in either celibacy or constant sexual vigilance and guilt? Erzen’s answers to that question make for some of the most moving parts of “Straight to Jesus.” Without exception, the men (and a few women, though New Hope only admits men) who sign up for this perceive a fundamental, irresolvable contradiction between their Christian faith and their homosexual orientation. They may consider themselves to be homosexual, but they refuse to be “gay” — that is, they refuse to willingly take on a positive gay identity.

After looking over the manuscript for the book, Hank told Erzen that he felt she hadn’t sufficiently conveyed “the misery and pain” of the ex-gay dilemma. “I worry,” he told her, “that people will come away from reading this asking, ‘Why would people want to do that?’ They don’t realize the conflict we deal with.” Virtually all of the men at New Hope had been raised in conservative religious families, and some but not all of them had tried to live openly gay lives with long-term partners. Others had been closeted and had acted on their homosexual desires only in furtive, anonymous trysts. At least one, the irrepressible youngest member of the residential program, “Curtis,” had never had sex with another man.

What they all seem to have experienced was rejection from the churches and communities they grew up in, which explains their mistrust of the Christian right. “Most of them can’t handle the truth,” one man told Erzen. “If you’re in the church and you’re a drug addict, murderer, whatever, guys will come up to you and slap you on the ass. But if you state that you struggle with homosexuality, you get the whole pew to yourself.” Some of the men at New Hope had asked their fellow congregants for help and prayers, only to be shunned or told they were possessed by demons. Some didn’t dare to speak of it at all.

But if their churches ostracized them, these men couldn’t seem to shake the conservative faith they grew up with. One of the tenets of that faith is that, to quote a New Hope statement, “the Bible is the inspired word of God … infallible … inerrant in the original,” and that it explicitly condemns homosexuality. Because they could never reconcile these deeply rooted beliefs with their homosexual behavior and relationships, those behaviors and relationships could never be truly joyful or satisfying, and because they had never had joyful or satisfying homosexual experiences, they assume that gay life is inherently empty and destructive.

The torment generated by this conflict can only strike the secular or liberal religious person as tragically unnecessary. Yet the comforts of this belief system must be powerful. One of the strangest stories in “Straight to Jesus” is that of Arden, a Queer Nation activist turned ex-gay renegade. After coming out as a teenager, she was committed to “an institution for gay youth with behavioral problems” by her mother. She sued to “divorce” her mother, won, and was adopted by two Jewish lesbians. Several years later, while working as a gay rights activist, she became a born-again Christian, joined Jews for Jesus, and is now presumably ex-gay. No one can argue that Arden lacked exposure to positive ideas and examples of lesbianism, yet somehow she was drawn back to a version of Christianity that views her sexuality as sinful.

The religion the men of New Hope espouse does offer them many comforts. Erzen (who’s not a Christian herself) describes their ecstatic participation in church services and the solace they take in what they believe is the ever-present companionship of Jesus. And Christianity, with its focus on the inexhaustible forgiveness of Christ (provided you return to the fold and follow the rules) is a perfect fit with a program that involves possibly endless cycles of relapse and redemption. New Hope transforms its members’ sordid, secret transgressions and their personal discomfort with their own homosexuality into a celestial epic or, as one man described it to Erzen, “a spiritual battle. It’s a war. Spirit forces are raging in the heavenly realm — that kind of thing.” At the very least, it’s not mundane.

Still, whatever the benefits these men get from evangelical Christianity, their religion is no more a rational choice than their sexuality is. Even when opting not to believe seems the only and obvious healthy, life-affirming alternative, these men — some of them educated and sophisticated — can’t manage it. One of Erzen’s most articulate subjects explained, “I had a very fulfilling, completely faithful, monogamous relationship with Ted. I really loved him. Everything about it was great, but I felt that I had sacrificed my relationship with God in order to have it. And it wasn’t just something in my head. It was in my soul.”

Surely one reason why religion and sexuality are so often at loggerheads is that each is a kind of mystery. Faith and desire — forces that rock us to our very foundations — rise up from within and transform our lives in ways that are uncannily similar. To an unbeliever like me, the solution to the ex-gay’s dilemma seems elementary: switch to a less rigid form of Christianity and while you’re at it, make sure that no one else gets raised with the same toxic dogma. But for the men at New Hope, their view of God is as immutable as their sexual orientation. Hank was right in suspecting that “Straight to Jesus” would make readers wonder why anyone would want to put themselves through reparative therapy. But the misery and pain — that comes through loud and clear.

Laura Miller

Laura Miller is a senior writer for Salon. She is the author of "The Magician's Book: A Skeptic's Adventures in Narnia" and has a Web site, magiciansbook.com.

In the Middle: Episode 1 – Happily Ever After

Henriette and Kevin have been married for 27 years. Kevin recently moved down the street because he says he's gay

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Victory, unprecedented

How the gay movement's successes surpassed feminism and civil rights -- and became a model for a new era

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Victory, unprecedented (Credit: iStockphoto/lisafx)
This article is an excerpt from "Victory: The Triumphant Gay Revolution," available June 5 from Harper.

At the height of the real estate boom in the 2000s, Robert M. “Robby” Browne, 2007 Corcoran Real Estate National Sales Person of the Year, put on his woman’s bathing suit and silver heels and walked out onto the Club Exit stage. A thousand screaming, cheering, photo-snapping real estate brokers roared their approval. The openly gay Browne, six feet tall and nearly two hundred pounds, danced a sweetly amateurish version of the Village People’s gay anthem, “YMCA,” as ten half naked male Broadway dancers backed him up.

“Is there any question of who the star is?” Browne asks proudly, watching the video today. For most real estate brokers, a third year as Corcoran’s top producer would have been stardom enough, but when Corcoran CEO Pam Liebman began planning the 2007 event, Browne thought he wouldn’t bother to attend. He’d had enough top-earner, $100-million-club years. He was turning sixty, and he was thinking about his life as a whole. Finally he said he would show up, but only if he could accept the award in drag. Browne’s beloved gay older brother, Roscoe Willett Browne, died of AIDS in 1985. He’d never forget the day when President George H. W. Bush said that dying of AIDS wasn’t as important as losing your job. “George H. W. Bush did not acknowledge the sacrifice of my brother and our love. My brother. He’s in his eighties and he still has his brothers and I don’t have any brothers,” says Browne. “And my brother was a Yalie and he was in Vietnam; Bush, how could he be more your person?” We exist, says Browne, looking at the video of his awards ceremony. “This show says we exist.”

Exist? You can’t pick up a paper without seeing evidence that gay people exist and are compelling American society to acknowledge them. The federal government protects them from homophobic violence and twenty-one states have laws against discrimination; 141 cities across the country constitute enclaves of equal treatment. A federal nondiscrimination bill gains more support in Congress with each passing year. Poll numbers show Americans overwhelmingly support protection for gays and lesbians against hate crimes and equality in health benefits, housing, and jobs. In July 2010, a federal judge struck down the federal law, the Defense of Marriage Act, that excluded gays from the federal benefits for which married people were eligible and that allowed the states to refuse to recognize the marriages if they pleased. In August, another federal judge invalidated the amendment to the California constitution, added by Proposition 8, that limited marriage to a man and a woman. September had hardly dawned when a third federal judge found the policy requiring gay soldiers to hide their sexual orientation, don’t ask/don’t tell, unconstitutional as well. The United States Congress repealed the law prohibiting out gays and lesbians from serving in the armed forces. Right after the Fourth of July in 2011, the federal courts in California ordered the United States military to stop screwing around getting ready and just cease enforcing it at once.

Gay playwright Edward Albee’s play about the unbounded nature of love objects, “The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?,” won the Tony Award for best play in 2002; the heroic biopic about San Francisco gay activist Harvey Milk, “Milk,” won two Oscars in 2009. So many people in show business have come out as gay that some gay media are now pooh-poohing their confessions as cheap shots meant to bolster their flagging careers.

Two of the most famous heterosexual lawyers in America, David Boies and Ted Olson, brought the suit against the California marriage ban in 2009. Win or lose, Boies and Olson’s case has already achieved the crucial social goal of making same-sex marriage a legitimate claim. On the eve of the closing argument in the case in 2010, a New York Times editorial called same-sex marriage “A Basic Civil Right.” In 2011 the poll numbers in favor of same-sex marriage crossed 50 percent. Regardless of intermittent setbacks, gay people like Robby Browne have succeeded in forcing society to acknowledge that they exist—as humans with a right to life and as American citizens with a claim to equality under the United States Constitution. Most of all, they have staked their claim to be treated, without lying or hiding, as moral persons, whose lives, loves, and ambitions have value and cannot be discounted.

The year 2009 saw the fortieth anniversary of the uprising in a New York gay bar called Stonewall. In 1969, “homosexuals,” people who wanted to have sex with members of their own sex, were considered sinful by the church, their sexual practices were criminal in forty-nine states, the psychiatrists said they were crazy, and the State Department held that they were subversive. Forty-two years later, almost to the day, Andrew Cuomo, the governor of the state of New York, signed the law that enabled them to marry in New York. The Empire State Building was lit up in the rainbow colors of the symbolic gay flag.

How did this tiny minority of despised and marginalized people do it? They did it in America, what we philosophers call a “liberal (small L) state.” America’s roots go back to the beginning of modern Western political thought in the seventeenth century, when the philosopher Thomas Hobbes speculated that people create their governments; states are not handed down from God to Adam to the king. During the century and a half after Hobbes wrote, the English and their American colonists launched a variety of social movements—the English Revolution and the American Revolution among them—that pushed and pulled on the deal between people and government until they produced the basic outline of the modern western state, the liberal state. The liberal state makes three promises to its citizens. First, security: the state will protect its citizens from one another and not hurt them worse than the people it is protecting them from. Second, liberty: citizens have certain rights as human beings that even the state cannot interfere with. And finally, self-governance: for those aspects of life the state can control, citizens must decide for themselves on equal terms what they want the state to do. It’s a good deal. No wonder so many people want in.

By the late twentieth century, Americans had already undertaken two great social movements for inclusion in the liberal state, the racial civil rights movement and the feminist movement. Since people aren’t all that easy to organize, theorists have often speculated about how they did it. Their conclusions are that movements arise only when people come to see that their problems are political, not natural or personal, what theorists call “oppositional consciousness.” This “aha!” moment in the civil rights movement dates back at least to W. E. B. Du Bois in 1903, when he observed that “the problem of the Twentieth Century is the problem of the color-line.” In addition, movements need access to resources, as when the NAACP started getting hold of real money and the movement gained astute leaders, such as Martin Luther King Jr.

Students of the racial civil rights movement made the assumption that before people engage in new movements they do a rational cost-benefit analysis, weighing the benefits of political action against the cost. When people created social movements against all odds and acted against their own individual self-interest on behalf of the group, theorists had to rethink what really drives people to take action. As the racial civil rights movement gave way to other movements—the feminist, and, finally, the gay-liberation movement—sociologists produced more theories to explain the new movements; indeed, the later thinking is often called “new social-movement” theory. In the newer thinking, theorists speculated that people draw their sense of who they are from the groups or social networks they are already in. From those starting places, they conceive a positive vision of themselves and then a desire to change the way the larger society perceives them all. New social-movement theorists came to the realization that sometimes group identity is so strong that people act on behalf of the group whether it benefits them individually or not.

Classical or new, each of the movements before the gay movement was seeking citizenship in the liberal state. Women and racial minorities did not necessarily ask the dominant society to love them or approve of them. They sought to be secure against violence, to be tolerated as they exercised their human liberty, and to have equal access to political and economic life. Each movement got traction in these crucial areas. But both of them fell short of achieving all the elements of a full human life for most of the people they represented: they got little or no economic assistance or cultural validation, and, when the inevitable backlash came, they stalled or lost ground. It would take a newer new movement to make the next moves: it would take the gay revolution.

The gay revolution achieved more because it faced different challenges. The path to liberal equality almost always involves mimicking as much as possible the behaviors and beliefs of the straight white men in power. The racial civil rights and feminist movements both made substantial detours into defending difference—black separatism and difference feminism. They failed to establish that their divergent cultures were as worthy as the dominant one and all they did was to split their movements. At the end of the day, both these modern movements got most of their traction from maximizing their similarity to dominant political and social hierarchies.

By definition, people involved in the gay revolution could not replicate the majority behavior. Their very political identity was behavior that distinguished them from the majority, including, but not limited to, their sex lives. The liberal state has a basic concept of a person entitled to be a citizen. When gay activists began their efforts, the churches considered them sinful, all but one state criminalized their sex acts, the doctors thought they were crazy, and politicians saw them as traitors to the nation. Sinners were kept away from sacred rites like marriage; criminals were imprisoned; crazy people were put in asylums; and people of doubtful loyalty were fired from their government jobs. Sinful, criminal, crazy, and subversive, the gays who made the gay revolution had the vastly harder task of convincing society to recognize they were even suitable candidates for citizenship despite their difference. Although liberalism pretends to be morally neutral, homosexual sexual behavior pressed that liberal commitment to the limit. In so doing, instead of bringing their marginal group into conformity with the mainstream norms, they challenged the accepted versions of sin, crime, sanity, and loyalty and changed America for everyone.

The movement succeeded, uniquely and in large part because, at the critical moments, its leaders made a moral claim. “Gay,” as movement pioneer Franklin Kameny put it on the iconic button of the gay revolution in 1968, “Is Good.” Even though it’s different. No one told it better than activist Arthur Evans: “It was more than just being gay and having gay sex. We discovered who we were and we built authentic lives around who we were and we supported each other doing that and in the process came to very important questions about the meaning of life, ethics, the vision of the common good and we debated these issues and we lived them.”

Morally ambitious and clearly identified as different, the gay movement came from further behind than either the civil rights or the feminist movements had done. It took on the liberal state and achieved formal equality, as did the other two movements. During the AIDS epidemic, it took on not just oppression, but neglect. And then it took on the traditional institutions of heterosexual morality—marriage and the military—and is rapidly conquering those arenas as well.

Fueled by its moral ambition, the gay movement is the model of a new era. It is ironic, yet fitting, that the only counterpart to the morally driven gay revolution is its contemporary and fiercest opponent, the morally driven religious right. Indeed, it is the moral certainty of the gay revolution that explains why, unlike the racial and feminist movements, it has been able to stand up to that powerful counterforce and, slowly but surely, prevail.

The theories all suggest that a whole lot of things have to go really right for people to act collectively against legitimate political authority. Lacking the religious and historical jet fuel of racial civil rights and the demographic advantage of feminism, the gay revolution started out from much the weakest position of any of the modern movements. Brilliantly led, endlessly resourceful, and stunningly creative, it came the furthest. When we ask how a cross-dressing homosexual activist got to be the poster boy of the most successful real estate brokerage firm in New York, we are also asking how people cooperate to get anything done, much less take on their whole society and wrench it onto a different path altogether. The gay Victory is not just a story, although that would be enough. It’s an epic.

From the book “Victory: The Triumphant Gay Revolution.” Copyright © 2012 by Linda Hirshman. Reprinted courtesy of Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

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Linda Hirshman is the author of “Victory: The Triumphant Gay Revolution,” forthcoming in June 2012. Follow her on Twitter @LindaHirshman1

Disneyland: Japan’s gay pioneers

A recent ceremony at Tokyo Disneyland highlights how far the country still needs to go for gay rights

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Disneyland: Japan's gay pioneers (Credit: Cindy Hughes via Shutterstock)

TOKYO, Japan — In one respect, the decision by Tokyo Disneyland to allow a gay couple to hold their “wedding” at the theme park is a sign of progress in a country that has, until recently, largely ignored the issue of same-sex unions.

Global PostBut some campaigners have argued that leaving it to Mickey Mouse to give his blessing to Koyuki Higashi and her partner, Hiroko Masuhara — in a strictly symbolic ceremony — is also a mark of how far Japan has to go before it affords the same rights to the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community as it does to heterosexual couples.

Tokyo Disneyland condoned this and all future same-sex ceremonies after receiving an inquiry from Higashi. Cue a confused response from a subsidiary, Oriental Land Company, which licenses the name and characters from Disney in the United States.

Higashi, 27, and her partner could “marry” at the park, they were told, but only if they dressed “like a man and a woman.” Park officials were worried that other visitors might be offended by the sight of two women in wedding dresses or morning suits.

The park relented on the dress code after a storm of protest on Twitter and other social media networks — it had all been a misunderstanding by an individual employee, it said — but the couple will not be allowed to exchange vows in the park’s chapel due to “Christian teachings.”

Those restrictions go to the heart of the flimsy protection offered to the rights of LGBT people in Japan, say campaigners. Homosexuality is not illegal, but same-sex marriages are not legally recognized.

“There needs to be more pressure for legal unions between gay people in Japan,” said Taiga Ishikawa, one of only a handful of openly gay politicians in the country. “This is only a guess, but I’d say there are more people now who are in long-term relationships and want that to be recognized in the form of a civil partnership.”

The 37-year-old, who won a seat on the Toshima Ward assembly in Tokyo last year, is campaigning to introduce an ordinance in the area to offer some form of marital recognition and to increase the number of administrative rights and services afforded to same-sex couples. But he admits that it’s “some way off.”

If Disneyland was being held up as an agent of progress, one of Japan’s most popular celebrities popped up to demonstrate that, in some quarters, ignorance reigns.

Commenting on TV on President Barack Obama’s recent declaration of support for gay marriages in the US, the film director and comedian Takeshi Kitano told a fellow guest: “Obama supports gay marriage. You would support marriage between humanoid and animals eventually, then,” before questioning the ability of gay couples to raise children.

Kitano has since tried to explain his outburst: “I was only talking about people who love their pets so much that they may think of marrying them,” AFP reported him as saying. “There is no way I look at gay people in the same way as I do animals, let alone implying sexual relations with animals.”

His were not the first comments with homophobic overtones to be made by a high-profile public figure in Japan. In late 2010, Shintaro Ishihara, the outspoken governor of Tokyo, suggested gay people were “deficient” after watching same-sex couples take part in a parade in San Francisco. “We have even got homosexuals casually appearing on television,” he said. “Japan has become far too untamed.”

Yuji Kitamaru, a journalist who writes about LGBT issues, said he was “very disappointed” by Kitano’s remarks, particularly as he has spoken up for minorities, including transgender people, in the past. “I felt it was a big betrayal not only to us and the audience, but also to himself. Public figures like Kitano can easily indulge in that kind of bigotry because Japanese people in general haven’t considered the difference between public discourse and private gossip.”

Yet Kitamaru, who has written on LGBT issues in Japan for two decades, believes social media has quickly become the forum for a more open discussion about sexuality, citing Twitter’s role in the Disneyland decision and a meeting held in Ni-chome, a gay neighborhood of Tokyo, to thank Obama for his support.

Higashi and her partner, meanwhile, have visited Disneyland to break their good news to Mickey Mouse. They have yet to set a date for the wedding, and there are reports that their inquiries were intended only to test the theme park’s commitment to equality.

Ishikawa welcomed Disneyland’s decision, which apparently came after officials in Tokyo contacted the company’s US headquarters. “I wrote 10 years ago that I looked forward to the day when gay and lesbian couples could hold hands and go to Tokyo Disneyland, so I’m very happy,” he said. “But we’re still not at the point where a man or woman can tell people, especially co-workers, that they have a same-sex partner.”

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It’s time for Dharun Ravi to apologize

Tyler Clementi's roommate gets a month of jail time in the Rutgers intimidation case. Will he ever say "sorry"?

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It's time for Dharun Ravi to apologizeDharun Ravi (Credit: AP/John Munson)

Tyler Clementi’s mother calls his actions “evil and malicious.” His father says they were “the cold-hearted violations” of his son, who committed suicide in September 2010. And a young man known only as “M.B.” said in a written statement that he “caused me a great deal of pain.” So, does Dharun Ravi’s punishment — 30 days jail time, 300 hours of community service, three years’ probation, and $11,900 total in fines — fit the crimes of which he’s been found guilty?

In March, Ravi was convicted of charges of bias and intimidation stemming from the death of Clementi, his Rutgers roommate, whom he had secretly filmed, in Ravi’s words, “making out with a dude.” It was a story that reverberated around the world, and helped invigorate the anti-bullying movement. As Judge Glenn Berman handed down the sentence Monday afternoon, calling Ravi’s actions “offensive and unconscionable,” he said that he would not recommend deportation. But the judge did pointedly tell Ravi, “I haven’t heard you apologize once” for his callous behavior. And he said he made “no comment” regarding any further civil actions the Clementis might take.

Though Berman said he believed the sentence “disenchanted both sides,” it’s one that shows respect for the law as it stands in New Jersey. It also offers what Berman calls the “hopeful” possibility that Ravi — and others who have so cavalierly shamed and exploited people — might learn something about the quality of mercy. Maybe all those hours of service can teach Ravi something he, as an 18-year-old college freshman, was so devastatingly lacking.

In her remarks to the court Monday, Clementi’s mother tearfully said that a piece of her died when her child killed himself. And M.B., the anonymous young man whom Ravi secretly recorded with Clementi in September 2010, said in a statement to the court that while he bore Ravi no malice, he “just wanted him to acknowledge that he had done wrong and take responsibility for his conduct.” That atonement isn’t something a judge can impose. And it’s a statement Ravi has yet to make.

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Mary Elizabeth Williams

Mary Elizabeth Williams is a staff writer for Salon and the author of "Gimme Shelter: My Three Years Searching for the American Dream." Follow her on Twitter: @embeedub.

HGTV: Winning the war for gay marriage

For nearly 20 years, one network has redefined domestic bliss -- and taught Americans to love their neighbors

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HGTV: Winning the war for gay marriage (Credit: Karina Kononenko via Shutterstock)

There are two ways to bring about positive, long-term social change: the fast one and the slow one. In the first version, statues are toppled, walls are torn down, laws are dramatically enacted. There is, forever, a clear before and after. It’s days like July 24, 2011, when New York state approved same-sex marriage. Or May 9, 2012, when Barack Obama became the first president to announce his support for the issue — an occasion that prompted incoming Human Rights Campaign president Chad Griffin to remark, “You will not forget where you were when you saw the president deliver those remarks.”

Then there’s the subtler version. The kind where you look around one day and suddenly realize that gay people have been building families and creating homes together this whole time. They’re your neighbors. They’re your fellow parents on the PTA. And they are totally the couple building an amazing new deck this weekend. For 18 years now, HGTV has been a steadfast force for exactly that kind of tolerance, simply by advancing the radical notion that homosexuals are out there in the world obtaining mortgages and painting their interiors just like straight people.

It’s not that LGBT-friendly content doesn’t exist elsewhere on television. I mean, Christ, have you ever seen Bravo? We could start with Andy Cohen and not even get around to “Project Runway” for days. There are entire gay-oriented networks, like Logo. But what distinguishes HGTV is both its durability and its ordinariness.

HGTV doesn’t trade in drama or high camp; it doesn’t offer “Wig Parties and Threesomes” stereotypes. Sure, one might suggest that the network’s high population of flamboyant gay designers panders to a different kind of typecasting. But the presence of hosts like David Bromstad and the married, father of two Vern Yip seems more like a logical, ordinary reflection of the makeup of the field. It’s also likely why there are so many gay contestants on its competitions as well. Just look at last year’s “Design Star” combatants, which included the lesbian former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader (and mother of four) Leslie Ezelle, and “average gay dad” Tyler Wisler.

More significant than its regular on-air talent pool, however, is the network’s consistent depiction of America’s gay and lesbian population as normal, carpooling, Home Depot-shopping folks whose agenda includes upgrading the kitchen backsplash. Far from the cavalcade of dysfunction on networks like TLC, the network regularly presents typical families of different ages and ethnicities — some of whom happen to be same-sex — on shows like “Property Virgins” and “House Hunters,” where the most shocking element of an odyssey is likely to be the property’s price tag.

That a network built around design would position itself as gay-friendly might seem like a no-brainer. But it’s also a network that  still has an overwhelmingly female core audience that isn’t necessarily going to identify with male same-sex couples. But by depicting a variety of couples and families, the Scripps-owned empire is broadening its base and appealing to a wider demographic. It’s also reflecting the reality of contemporary America.  As “Property Virgins” casting director Michael Barrick said when he put out the call for Atlanta-area LGBT parents last month, “I do prefer to see as diverse a population featured on television as possible. People like to watch a show that they can relate with, be it black, white, Asian, interracial, gay and straight. If they don’t see that representation, they are more likely to change the channel – and that is something as a casting director, that I just don’t want to see.”

There are still plenty of people out there stuck with antiquated ideals. Some of them are even running for president. But the fact that the American family doesn’t always resemble an Eisenhower-era sitcom is something more and more of us accept. It’s been a long time coming and it’s still a work in progress, but our American image of home and family is, in the words of the president, evolving. It evolves when a law is changed or a leader speaks out. And it evolves when two guys buy a house together on basic cable, and then another two, and another two, and the two ladies. Suddenly it’s not weird or unique or groundbreaking at all. It’s improvement. One home at a time.

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Mary Elizabeth Williams

Mary Elizabeth Williams is a staff writer for Salon and the author of "Gimme Shelter: My Three Years Searching for the American Dream." Follow her on Twitter: @embeedub.

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