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• 1993
MARCH ON WASHINGTON
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MATURING
AND COMING OF AGE
REV.
CAROLYN MOBLEY
(associate pastor at MCCR)
The
early ’90s was a time when we were seeing a lot
of AIDS deaths, a lot of AIDS quilts, losing friends
to AIDS. When I went to the ’93 March, we took
several AIDS patients, including one man, Tom Wright,
who had to be taken to the emergancy room; John Early
took him. We were just getting ready to step off the
curb into the throng when we saw him go down, so he
didn’t get to march. He passed away a year after
the march.
We
flew—it was the first time to be on a plane with
so many gay people. We took over the plane. If there
were any straight people, well, they blended into the
crowd.
The
quilt was a big, big part of that march. I saw people
wheeling through there in wheelchairs. Tom was very
weepy—it was hard for him to be there. The first
time I saw the quilt was in ’87. In ’93, it
was so much bigger. Breathtaking, it was hard to believe....
It really brought AIDS home to me—to see the quilt,
to see how pervasive it was. It wasn’t just in
the South, or in the East, or in the cities. It was
everywhere.
The
Atlanta Feminist Women’s Chorus performed, which
was moving for me, because I had sung with them when
I lived in Atlanta.
By
’93 I was on staff at MCC, and I got to visit MCC
in Washington; it was a new facility in a primarily
black neighborhood. Worshiping there was really spectacular.
Troy Perry did a special service in the morning in front
of the Lincoln Memorial (OK, maybe Washington). A huge
crowd attended. I led one of the opening hymms, I think
maybe “What a Fellowship, What a Joy Divine.”
We had communiun, and closed with “Amazing Grace.”
MCC
had one of the largest contingents in that march. We
were from all over the country. For me, it was a deepening
of my commitment to the Metropolitan Community Church.
For a long time after being forced out of the Baptists
in ’81, I had attended and worked with MCC, but
had refused to become involved as clergy. But in ’92,
after 10 years as an intentional lay person, I officially
became clergy and embraced the fellowship...that whatever
contribution I was going to make to this world, I was
going to make it through MCC. That’s what the march
in ’93 sealed for me—it was that service,
and seeing all our people from everywhere all gathered
together. The whole contingency must have been, I don’t
know 600?, 800? We had the UMCC big banner, and then
all the little banners of MCCs from all over.
ELLEN
DEGENERES
(from an interview in The Advocate)
I
remember crying, wishing I could be a part of the march
on Washington in 1993. I thought, This is a huge group
of people that I belong to. And I can’t do that
because I’m not out? That was a powerful thing
to watch the march, and to not be able to be there—it
impacted me and just tortured me more. I wanted to be
able to be out. My friends were out! And I kept justifying
why I couldn’t—because music is different
from television. If you sell six million albums, you’re
a huge star. If you have six million viewers on television,
you’re canceled.
RAY
HILL
In
’93, there was a group of men chanting, “What
do we want?! Husbands! When do we want them? Now!”
In
1979, I’d estimate there were about 70,000 people.
Certainly more queers than anybody had ever seen in
one place at one time. In ’87, it was about half
a million. In 1993, it was close to a million. We virtually
occupied the last four blocks of the mall.
PHYLLIS
FRYE
1993
was another good march, but again we [transgenders]
were not included. Because we’d raised so much
hell about being included, they’d made arrangements
for us to have a caucus area. Our caucus got a lot of
interviews from other queer media througout the U.S.
We
talked about having a lay-down demonstration in front
of the march to protest transgenders being omitted.
[“Transgenders are second-class citizens in the
gay community,” says Phyllis’ spouse, who
asked to remain anonymous for fear of employment discrimination.]
Well, I talked them out of laying down in front of the
marchers. That was one of the biggest political mistakes
I made in my life. We should have lain down in front
of the march. If we’d been laying down, we’d
have been two to three years ahead. On ENDA. I still
wish that we’d have done it.... We should have
laid down and blocked the march. And I just kick myself
so many times for changing their minds. So I came home
with a sweet and sour taste.... In the ’94 march
in New York for the 25th anniversary of Stonewall, we
formed a strategy to do civil disobedience by laying
down, and they would form a circle and march around
us.... We saw things change after that...I think I made
the right decidion that time.
RAY
HILL
A
year before the 1993 march on Washington, my partner
of 10 years died. Because we were ignorant of the legal
documents that committed gay couples should have written
for protection, and because gay relationships are not
protected, his parents were able to take our home and
many of our possessions. It was a devastating experience
to lose my partner and then my home we had shared together.
For the first time since his death, the march on Washington
gave me the energy to refocus my losses into something
positive, and to use my experience to help teach others.
At
the time of the ’93 march, I was publisher of Uptown
Health and Spirit. I was “out” about my sexual
orientation, but had never been active as a public figure
in the gay community. But after returning to Houston,
inspired by the march and honored to be a gay “centerfold
model” for Newsweek, I decided I wanted to make
a difference in our community. Nine months after the
march, a few friends and I gave birth to OutSmart.
DEBORAH
BELL
At
the ’91 Creating Change conference, a group was
talking about another march, asking people Do you want
to do it?, and people said yes. They made a commitment
that they would retain the process used in the last
march.... Are we going to commit to organizing this
to happen?
The
steering committee met January of ’92 in L.A.,
and this is where the name of the march got decided.
The name that ended up was not the name that most people
wanted. We discussed it and discussed it. Miriam Ben-Shaloom
said, “Why don’t we just call it The March
That Dare Not Speak Its Name?” Another person suggested
Dyke Sluts From Hell and Fags Can Come Too. I felt the
world was not ready for the word “transgender”
to be included. For those who hadn’t had the privilage
of knowing Phyllis Frye, they didn’t understand,
while that’s not the same thing as sexual orientation,
they are allied with us. The official name was the 1993
March on Washing for Lesbian, Gay and Bi Equal Rights
and Liberation.
As
the national organizer, I was in D.C. from July of ’92
to May of ’93. I was the only paid person.
I
facilitated the discussion on the platform. There was
a point when the whole discussion should have ended
and I was exhausted and couldn’t facilitate any
more. There were the people who want Faith and Family,
and those who say, We’re here and we’re queer,
and we’re not necessarily faith and family. The
executive committee and the co-chairs were from Queer
Nation and ACT-UP with a strict activist background.
There were other people who were Log Cabin types, before
there was a Log Cabin, saying What’s pro-choice
got to do with gay rights? But all those issues touch
us. If we’re not for everybody, what are we doing?
There were strong members of the transgender community
who still felt we should add the word “transgender.”
There were threats to lay down in front of the march.
Why don’t y’all organize something and then
there can be some education? Then there can be some
positive influence. I had a Sister of Perpetual Indulgence
in my face on that one.
I’m
very proud of the work I did on the march, because I
used a model that’s used in NOW [National Organization
for Women] to structure the executive committee. We
worked very directly with the D.C. host committee. That
was the core. They knew Washington, had the resources,
and involved their organizations in it.
In
March I got requests from organizations that wanted
to march. NAMBLA applied. I wrote them an official letter,
saying: You can march on our platform, but not as NAMBLA,
because what that is is contrary to our platform, because
what we are about is sex between consenting adults and
what you do is child abuse.
The
Animal Lovers’ League—and we’re not talking
about PETA, I’m talking about having sex with animals.
They had a collie on the letterhead and a little Pan
creature. I basically sent them the same letter, only
saying that we’re about sex between consenting
human adults, and what you do is animal abuse.
I
got hostile and obscene messages, including one that
alluded to assassinating the president, so government
agents had to come in. Some shock-jock radio show wanted
me to debate the Animal Lovers’ League. I told
them no, that’s not what this march is about, and
I just don’t have the time for this.
The
Holocaust Museum opened that week just by coincidence.
We worked to make sure that homosexuals were included.
They had a special ceremony at the Holocaust Museum
opening for gays and lesbians. We were getting so criticized
for everything—the last three weeks before the
march was like a Three Stooges movie and I was all three
Stooges—and you start to wonder, Why are we doing
this? But the Holocaust Museum was why we’re doing
this—because this has happened before and it could
happen again if we don’t do this.
There was a dyke march on Saturday night—a lot
of women went topless for that—but I didn’t
get to go. I couldn’t do everything. There was
a black-tie dinner that night I attended. I also missed
the Texas Two-Step that I’d helped to organize.
There were 180 related events within the week.
There
was also the crude reality of people trying to make
a buck—I was not prepared, I was so naive in many
ways—that people would try and make money off the
march.
I think ’93 paved the way for this year. I’m
a little bit jealous of them. They’ve got Ellen
DeGeneres. I think a lot of that was possible because
of ’93. I’m disappointed about the process
of this march [the Millennium March], but I think for
some people it’ll be a life-changing experience.
The
day of the march in some ways was total hell for me.
I had no chair, no walkie talkie, had to walk all the
way to the stage, and I have a disability.
I
was talking to Meg Christian, Holly Near, Chris Williamson,
and Margie Adams—the goddesses of women’s
music. I do have one of Holly Near’s hairs. I plucked
it from in front of her shirt.
Ru
Paul was there. His mother died that day. He said how
meaningful it was to him to be there, because his mother
had always supported him, and that had enabled him to
be there that day.
I
don’t know how the lineup happened, it just happened....
A lot of it happened in spite of us instead of because
of us. But I did do the weather that day: it was the
most perfect day of weather that’s ever been.
Having
my name announced from the stage, and looking out and
seeing that sea of people and knowing that I had been
integral to making it happen—that meant a lot to
me. But afterward, we crawled back to our hotels.
March
on Washington intro • 1979
• 1987
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