6.24.10 Editor’s Desk

Earlier this month there was a heated exchange on our website between a local pastor and the LGBT community. The conversation surrounded a story we ran several months back on the Going Straight Ministries organization that set up shop in St. Petersburg on Fifth Avenue North. The article was accompanied by a photo of the organization’s sign, which talked about the sins of homosexuality.

The pastor, if you can use that term without snickering, was adamant about voicing his beliefs that LGBT people are deviants, sinful and on a road to eternal damnation. His tirade took up almost a full page on our website, but our readers were quick to inform him that we are just as “normal” as the next person and that his hate speech was doing more harm to his cause than good.

Of course, he never came around and our Web Editor, Jamie Hyman, finally had to block him from our site. We draw the line at personal attacks—especially when they are directed at members of our staff.

The whole exchange got me to thinking about the annual friction created by the “religious” protestors at Pride events. How can people spewing hate classify themselves as religious?

This year’s St. Pete Pride will undoubtedly be a wonderful event displaying our diversity, our love and our commitment to equality. But on the sidelines of the promenade I know we’ll see the same men holding the same, tired condemning messages we’ve all seen before.

Every year I shrug them off. These men have almost become part of our community by attending every festival or event we put on. But last year’s St. Pete Pride was a bit different for me. Rather than simply being part of a large group targeted with hate, I was singled out by one heckler.

Last year, I was shirtless and rushing past booths and revelers trying to position myself in the street for the best possible photos of floats when a protestor spotted me. He was unable to use a megaphone, since those were banned, but his booming voice was plenty loud to get my attention as well as the attention of several others nearby.

“Check out that fag,” he yelled while pointing directly at me. “He spends more time in the gym than in church. He doesn’t know who Jesus is and he is too busy worshipping the human form.”

I readily admit I appreciate a defined body, but to say I have no religion based solely on my sexual orientation or appearance is a troubling and deeply personal attack. It reminded me of when I first came out and I was informed by a relative that I was obviously not a Christian since I was gay. That relative has since apologized, thankfully.

A person’s relationship with God or any spiritual belief (or non-belief) is their business alone. I am not saying I am or am not religious. That shouldn’t matter to anyone but me. When I realized the protester was yelling at me, I just waved and took it as a compliment for getting noticed for my gym dedication.
It wasn’t until after Pride that I thought about his words.

Somehow this man—this stranger—got to me. I’ve thought about that 30-second interaction for a year now and on some level it still bothers me. I know it shouldn’t but I inherited my mother’s ability to hold a grudge.

This person knew only two things about me—I was celebrating Pride and I went to the gym. He has no idea about my religious beliefs.

As with the Going Straight Ministry representative on our website, this protestor assumed the worst about me because of the environment we were in and because of his hatred toward a specific sexual orientation.

Religion and hate are too easily confused these days and I know, just like me, many of us want to throw hate-filled slurs back at these men with the signs. But that’s exactly what they want.

We have to resist that temptation and celebrate our Pride without confrontation. That sends the loudest message of all.