Rioting with Reason: Forty Years on from the Stonewall Riots

July 20, 2009 15:43

By Philippa Keaney

“We all had a collective feeling that we’d had enough of this kind of shit … All kinds of people, all different reasons, but mostly it was total outrage, anger, sorrow, everything combined” – author Lillian Faderman recalls the feeling on the streets, forty years ago, outside the Stonewall Inn.

On 28 June 1969, a police raid on the Stonewall Inn in Christopher Street, New York, a known meeting place for same-sex attracted and gender/sex diverse people, sparked an unanticipated response.

The raid itself was not unusual. At the conclusion of the sixties, the dominant western paradigms by which homosexuality and sex/gender diversity were judged were psychoanalytic and medical, often representing such diversity as manifestations of illness that required suppression and “cure.” The US legal system and authorities reinforced this concept by laws that expressly forbade homosexuality and curbed the rights of individuals who were same-sex attracted and people who challenged the sex or gender assigned to them. Legislation even forbade such individuals to gather in groups in public spaces. The Stonewall Inn provided one of the few places where same-sex attracted and sex/gender-diverse people could meet and socialise.

However, Stonewall was far from a safe haven. Against a backdrop of legal prohibition, police discrimination, and brutality, the Stonewall Inn was a constant target of police raids within a Mafia-controlled industry of complicated pay-offs, tip-offs, and the pursuit of wealth and power. The venue’s Mafia owners exploited their clientele by watering down drinks, overcharging, and, often, treating them with contempt. Despite these drawbacks, Stonewall served an important social function for those who wished to express themselves beyond the limitations of prescribed sexuality and sex/gender norms. A strange haven it might have been, but it provided a space where people could be who they were, without censure.

The police raid on June 28 did not go according to plan. After the humiliation of being required to provide ID and “prove” a sex/gender that matched identity documents, the patrons who were being arrested refused to cooperate with police and actively resisted arrest. The rest of the Stonewall Inn crowd refused to disperse as directed by the authorities. Something snapped that night. The constant discrimination, abuse, and humiliation directed towards individuals became the impetus for collective action. Riots occurred in the area over the next few days, sending a message to the world that same-sex attracted and sex/gender-diverse people were not going to settle for being treated as second-class citizens any longer. They demanded attention, respect, and rights.

Was Stonewall the birth of the Gay Liberation Movement?

The public record often claims Stonewall as the birth of the Gay Liberation Movement. This has triggered much debate about how important Stonewall has been to the pursuit of justice and equality for LGBTI/Queer individuals. The Stonewall Riots have been critiqued for promoting a mythical community and collective identity — one that excludes as many individuals as it includes.

Looking back from 2009, the exclusivity of Gay Liberation seems apparent in the very name of the movement, which suggests a primary focus on homosexual men while, arguably, overlooking lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and intersex people. In an interview last month, Raymond Castro, a Stonewall regular and one of the 1969 rioters, was at pains to debunk the myth that the rioters were predominantly white gay males. “It wasn’t just white gays. You had straight people sympathetic to gays. You had people who had had enough (of the police). You had Latinos, you had blacks, you had whites … It was a melting pot.” Transgender individuals had continually been targeted by the police at other raids across the country, and Stonewall was no different. Three years prior to Stonewall, a group of trans people rioted against the San Francisco police at Compton’s Café, for the same sort of harassment, discrimination, and violence that triggered the Stonewall Riots.

Perhaps it does not really matter whether Stonewall has assumed somewhat mythical proportions. For local Labour MP the Hon. Pete Hodgson, the relevance of Stonewall “is now historical and symbolic because it shows that organised protest can lead to change. In that sense it has a place in history along with the Blackball miners’ strike or the Springbok tour protest.” In our current socio-political environment where rioting occurs as an indiscriminate, alcohol-fuelled pastime, lacking any apparent purpose, Stonewall reminds us that there are some things worth fighting for. It reminds us that the history of diversity is long, strong, and proud.

Are we there yet?

In a media release declaring June 2009 as national Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride month, US President Barack Obama noted that although much progress has been made since Stonewall, “there is more work to be done. LGBT youth should feel safe to learn without the fear of harassment, and LGBT families and seniors should be allowed to live their lives with dignity and respect.”

It is easy to assume that here in New Zealand we have “made it.” Certainly, we don’t experience legislated and state-sanctioned oppression to the same extent that those gathered at Stonewall did. But how far have we really come? The Homosexual Law Reform Act (1986) and the Civil Union Act (2004) have been important political manifestations of a commitment to reduce discrimination and promote inclusion, equality, and justice for all citizens. But we are still a long way from being a society that genuinely celebrates difference.

Civil union couples are unable to legally adopt children within New Zealand. Since marriage is only available to heterosexual couples, this law effectively discriminates against same-sex and sex/gender-diverse couples. Here in Otago, same-sex attracted and sex/gender-diverse university and secondary school students have been targets of verbal and physical abuse, intimidation, and rape, based on perceived sexual orientation or alternative sex/gender identity. At some Dunedin venues, patrons have been thrown out because of their assumed sexual orientation.

The Human Rights Commission’s Report of the Inquiry into Discrimination Experienced by Transgender People, To Be Who I Am, concluded that “the lives of trans people in New Zealand are marked by discrimination, severe barriers to equitable health services, and limited legal and public recognition of who they are.” For sex/gender-diverse youths, the level of harassment and intimidation is often so extreme that they avoid public social spaces. Ironically, despite avoiding social visibility because of the extent of discrimination, sex/gender-diverse people are subject to constant scrutiny by the legal system, the medical profession, and bureaucracy. For those who do not identify as gender diverse, it is almost impossible to imagine the humiliation of having to account publicly for the clothes that one chooses to wear and what one has beneath those clothes — as if these things are anybody else’s business.

Craig Hoyle, from Invercargill-based SGNLS (Southland Gay & Lesbian Support), says that most gay, lesbian, and bisexual youths in Invercargill are “still in the closet” because local schools and tertiary institutions are not safe places for them to be who they are. Referring to Invercargill as “the most homophobic place in the country,” he notes that many gay, lesbian, and bisexual students will take opposite-sex partners to school formals to maintain the appearance of being straight. Sex/gender diversity is entirely off the radar, with most trans and gender-questioning youth being forced to leave in search of a more accepting community. As recent media coverage has shown, discriminatory school policies concerning attendance at school formals is not restricted to Invercargill but is alive and kicking in many Dunedin schools also.

Despite New Zealand’s rhetoric of liberal largesse and acceptance, our policies, attitudes, and social environments often betray our discomfort with diversity. In a recent blog attached to a news release about workplace discrimination based on sexual orientation, comments logged included, “Long live homophobia! Passing a law does not make homosexuality natural or acceptable.” A question posted on a site for new residents about acceptance of diversity attracted the following response from someone who has resided in New Zealand for some years, “If I had a gay son coming to terms with his sexuality, I would move away [from NZ]. I find attitudes here often ridiculous, out of date, insulting and stupid.”

With such attitudes, it is little wonder that same same-sex attracted and gender/sex-diverse youth are more likely to suffer from depression, to self-harm, to misuse alcohol and drugs, and to run away from home. In some ways, we have hardly moved beyond Stonewall. For too many of our gender/sex-diverse and same-sex attracted young people, life is still physically and emotionally unsafe. Political advances have not adequately protected our youths or managed to create a society that is supportive of diversity at all levels.

Where to from here?

Stonewall prompts us to think about our own attitudes, language, and convictions. Are we individually and collectively contributing to a safe campus and a safe city for our diverse population? We don’t necessarily have to riot. There are simple things we can do individually. We can make a start with language: not using the word “gay” as an insult or as a pejorative adjective is a simple but important step that promotes respect and inclusion of those who we may perceive as “different.” Having the integrity to discourage homophobic and transphobic comments – or at least to refuse to listen to them – is another way that we can demonstrate our respect and recognition of others as individuals.

The vision of Stonewall invokes the possibility of a community that can exist in and through difference. Forty years on, our challenge is to free ourselves from the limitations that fear of diversity places on all of us. Stonewall reminds us that we can make changes, individually and collectively, to promote an environment where we can flourish together, irrespective of our sexual orientation or gender/sex identity.