Dear Mr. President

Dear Mr. President,

I'm a pretty patient guy, Mr. President. I must be, considering that while you were celebrating your 6th birthday I was putting my life on the line for my country, serving as a Military Policeman in Vietnam, even though I had to lie every minute of every waking hour to do so. I kept myself going with the faith that someday other patriotic gay and lesbian Americans would be able to proudly serve their nation without having to live a lie.

I must be a patient man, Mr. President. When you were 8 years old I gave up a promising law enforcement career with the Washington State Patrol rather than continue to put up with the incredible pressure of attempting to pass as a
heterosexual. I kept myself going with the faith that someday GLBT people would be
protected in their jobs from the whims of heterosexual bigots.

I must be a patient man, Mr. President. When you were 10 years old my good friend, John Singer and I were refused a license to marry. The courts of the day upheld that decision. I kept myself going with the faith that someday every person in this country would have that most basic of rights, the right to make his or her own decision about whom to marry.

I must be a patient man, Mr. President. When you were 15 years old a gang of young men armed with baseball bats showed up at my door stating that they were going to show me "What we do with fags in this neighborhood". I came out of that unscathed only because I was able to reach the shotgun I kept handy for just such an occasion. I kept myself going with the faith that someday the same laws which protected racial minorities and religious majorities from hate crimes would also protect those targeted simply because they are GLB or T.

I must be a patient man, Mr. President. For the past 40 years and more I have defended and supported the Democratic Party even though their promises of support for the LGBT community always had to take a backseat to other more pressing issues, issues that affected "all" Americans. I kept myself going with the faith that someday our issues would make it to the top of the heap of things that needed to get done.

I must be a patient man, Mr. President. Even though I worked tirelessly for your election and donated more money to your campaign than I have for all other elections COMBINED in the past, I was willing to cut yo cut you some slack on your avoidance of addressing issues affecting the gay community once you had been elected. You have a lot on your plate. I kept myself going with the faith that you, who declared yourself a "fierce advocate" of full equality for GLBT people would get around to fulfilling your campaign promises once you got caught up.

But then you crapped all over us, and haven't even gotten around to saying "I'm sorry".

So I'll say it. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I confused "Yes we can" with "Yes we will".

I'm sorry that I confused campaign promises with political will.

I'm sorry that I forgot that even though all people are created equal, some are created more equal than others.

But most of all I am sorry that for me and other LGBT people the Audacity of Hope has been changed to the abandonment of hope. That hurts most of all, Mr. President. We had allowed ourselves to have a dream, but last week's comparisons of our relationships to pedophilia and incest shattered that dream, perhaps beyond repair.

By the way, the DNC recently sent me a fund raising letter. I returned it without the
requested check but simply with the notation scrawled across it in large letters "I am gay". That will be my standard response to all fund raising requests from the Democrats until such time as I see one or more of the following take place:

The repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell, Don't Pursue"

The repeal of the so called Defense of Marriage act.

The passage of Hate Crime legislation that includes protection for ALL in the LBGT
community.

The passage of employment non-discrimination legislation which protects ALL in the LBGT community.

I understand that you like to play basketball, Mr. President. Well, Sir, the ball is now in your court.


Paul Barwick, San Francisco