January 26, 2012

Today I learned that a Christian group called The Marin Foundation started an event at Chicago's Gay Pride Parade in 2010 (and continued it in 2011) called "I'm Sorry" in which the groups members stood along the parade route with shirts and signs apologizing for the church's treatment of the LGBT community.

The photo seen here was taken of one of the parade dancers hugging Andrew Marin, pastor and founder of the group. The image is moving and Marin's first hand account of the event made my inner 17-year-old-girl - who walked past the same group negative-adjective-spewing boys almost everyday on her way into class and feared she would always feel so lost - overjoyed and hopeful. It sparkles like a step forward and a needed change in the conversation and as Marin himself says, something Jesus himself would have done.

Further research into the Marin Foundation however has started to make me nervous. I am no longer 17 and very far from lost. While I would love to believe in genuine acceptance and outreach it also has the distinct smell of a publicity stunt. Some talk around the internet seems to point to the foundation being a bit of a bait and switch. After reading Marin's website, which seems to solely focus on a gay/christian dialogue it starts to feel more like conversion or recruitment and less like a true open gesture of good will. I don't have enough information to know for sure. Perhaps I am overly defensive. Perhaps not. I want badly to believe in the positive.

Whatever the case I have a feeling that image and Marin's words about that day will stay in my thoughts for awhile, particulary this part:

"I think a lot of people would stop at the whole “man in his underwear dancing” part. That seems to be the most controversial. It’s what makes the evening news. It’s the stereotype most people have in their minds about Pride.

Sadly, most Christians want to run from such a sight rather than engage it. Most Christian won't even learn if that person dancing in his underwear has a name. Well, he does. His name is Tristan."

I want to be treated like a person. Not a gay person - a person. I feel like there are random moments in my daily life in which I am reminded that the opposite is true. But, the same is true for other people with different adjectives. I try hard to remember this. No matter Marin's motives, he brings up an important point - Tristan is just a person.

Everyone who disagrees with me or seems strange or looks different or is culturally polar to myself is still just a person with little hurt feelings and wishful dreams and a life of experiences. Somehow that makes it easier to take a deep breath and find something to relate to.

Sometimes I forget. But, slowly I am learning.