elevator activism

I stood holding hands with my man in the elvator. We approached a stop, and automatically both of us let go. A handsome middle-aged man walked in. We went up a few more floors... and here's the rapid succession of thoughts that zipped by in a few seconds...

I have lots of activist energy. Part of me wants to go rant in the streets, yell, wave my fist in the air, and confront something. Part of me wants to go stand on a busy street corner with my future hubby holding hands, letting people see. Maybe holding a sign. The state of Washington is having a voter referendum on gay marriage, and I want to help influence voters. Large numbers. I want to organize.

A wise older friend of ours, upon hearing me, introduced the concept of ''activism through normalization." He believes that most of our activism should not be yelling, and accusing, blaming, confronting, or even talking about gay issues. He believes that much of the best work is done by just being ourselves, loving partners, inviting people over to dinner, engaging with the mainstream as ourselves. He says ''they know," and they're already watching and thinking about it. His thoughts resonated with me and just felt right.

The last state I was in, Utah, in the last two months I was there, had four cases of physical violence against gay men. One was a ''curbing", where they put the young man's head on the street curb, and someone stomps on his head, breaking his jaw. I attended fundraisers for his hospital bills. I was outraged. Livid.

And here I am separating holding hands from my man on the elevator. Ironic.

So I said to myself: self, you've got all these grand activism ideas, and not alot of time to squeeze them in. How about you start with something simple and small... - like staying holding hands with your man - even on the elevator, when a cute middle-aged man - who is most likely straight - stands next to you. Be an activist by just being yourself. Don't hide. Take a risk, not just in front of a crowd, but in a quiet ordinary space.

By the time the bell dinged on the upper floor where we got out, I had decided. I'm now an elevator activist.