The openly gay politician who had won re-election addressed the election night crowd. The group was made up of advocates who had waged a noteworthy campaign for equality and against a proposition that sought to reiterate a law essentially already on the Texas books.
She applauded the group’s success at opening up dialogue that hadn’t existed before.
She called for them to not give up, to continue to speak up for legal rights while understanding sacred acts have their own place.
She implored them to never go back to the closet.
I smiled. I cheered. I applauded the group’s efforts.
And I hid from the cameras.
Though I know that some of the dialogue that happened occurred because people like me (straight, faith-based, somewhat influential) employed across the table rather than in your face tactics, I also know that radical movements take radical gestures.
Still this morning I cringed when a newsletter I subscribe to carried the following quote from Martin Luther King: In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.
Some day the greater good may be served when people like me do step into the spotlight and speak out loudly and clearly about what we believe to be unjust.
But today, I carry the weight of knowing that for now my place, though not in the closet, certainly remains in the shadows. I pray that that weight makes the impression it deserves because frankly there are days when I too long to be free at last.