Conspiracies of Silence

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me --
and there was no one left to speak for me.

Martin Niemöller (1892-1984) - ardent nationalist and prominent Protestant pastor who emerged as an outspoken public foe of Adolf Hitler and spent the last 7 years of Nazi rule in concentration camps.

In my first blog entry I wrote about Mrs Bimstein, my English teacher over thirty years ago. A few days later her brother-in-law, Phillip Bimstein, left a comment. I'm guessing Google Alerts picked up the name and notified him. Incidentally, if you're looking for examples of lives well lived check out his website. His ability to come upon and comment on the blog of a relative stranger struck me as a vivid example of the ever decreasing circles our online public personae inhabit in the virtual world, and reminded me of the importance of bearing witness to those things that are important in our life.

Everything we do or say constructs meaning and speaks to our values. Even silence. Sometimes these are personal values, sometimes they are societal values – assuming one can draw any distinction between the two. Every time we do something, or say something, or stay silent in our daily lives we are aligning ourselves in that instant with people with similar values; we are conducting a personal, fleeting campaign for those values; though acting alone we are part of many. The mother who smacks her child, the manager who lets a sexist remark go unchallenged, the flight attendant who wears a small gold cross, the lone protester picketing the State House, the closet gay who hides his sexuality – all of them are constructing meaning with their audiences. In this way Public Affairs, I believe, permeates our private lives. We live our values in the mundane repetitions of every day. I would argue that we therefore have a responsibility to be mindful of our environment. We need to be aware that sometimes our meanings are unintended and sometimes our audiences are invisible strangers or peripheral friends and colleagues, and sometimes they are secondhand.

I started with a quotation about the importance of bearing witness and standing up for what we believe is right even if silence is the path of least resistance. The example I want to focus on is one dear to my heart: the closet gay who hides his sexuality. Many will argue that a person's sexuality is a private matter, and I believe that to some extent it is. However, I also believe strongly that there is a public dimension to a person's decision to remain in the closet. To me, such a person is reinforcing the message that being gay is something to be ashamed of, something that if revealed should be allowed to affect them adversely in some way. Essentially, they are accepting and therefore, in my opinion, legitimizing prejudice.

To me, this is the same as a woman saying it's acceptable for women to be paid less, or an African American saying it's fine for Emerson to apply double standards when it comes to tenure. The key difference is that women and African Americans don't have the luxury of being able to hide who they are. Certainly, not all gay men and women can come out without risk. For some it will expose them to physical danger or a loss of their livelihood. However, many can come out without fear of serious recriminations and choose not to. Yes, it may be temporarily uncomfortable for them. Yes, they may have to challenge their own notions about masculinity or femininity. Yes, it may change some relationships with family, friends and colleagues. And so, on.

I'm not advocating for gay men and women to shout their sexuality from the rooftops – far from it – but those who are in a position to come out and be positive, everyday, ordinary – and sometimes extraordinary – role models should. And those who can't, well, we need to change the world for them. The idea that being gay is something to be kept hidden away like a dirty little secret is an assault on our civil rights that needs to be challenged by us all.

Anyone interested in the topic might like to read Kenji Yoshino's Covering: The Hidden Assault on our Civil Rights, which is practically poetry it's so beautifully written. It's available as an electronic book in the Emerson Library.