I promised myself I wouldn’t wade into the story surrounding Chaz Bono’s appearance on Dancing with the Stars. I feared if I did, the outcome could be a blog composed of nothing but long rambling strings of barely coherent profanity. But after hearing the umpteenth straight-off-the-deep-end rant from yet another member of the radical Christian Reich, I realized I can’t stay silent on this. So I devised a plan for keeping the prose relatively G-rated, giving myself only seven single points in which to carry my thoughts. Save for one, all of these comments are directed at the protesters. So here goes:
- While I don’t wish to speak for anyone else, I have been led to the understanding—by transgendered people or their partners, those who have experienced this situation first-hand—that gender transformation has much less to do with sex and sexuality than it has to do with identity, self-determination and feeling comfortable in one’s own skin. Feeling right. So let’s start by getting our minds out of other people’s pants.
- If there’s a God, then it’s fair to presume that he or she is a pretty worldly and sophisticated fellow. Or gal. So I think it’s a given that he or she would be eight different kinds of embarrassed by the ignorant drivel that comes out of the mouths of you self-appointed guardians of our morality.
- I’m thinking too, that again, if there’s a God, he or she has a definite creative streak. Which means he or she is no doubt quite comfortable with independent, freethinking individuals who take risks in striving for self-determination. If you’re wondering how I came to the conclusion that God might be an arty type, take an evening off from burning books or writing Michelle Bachmann mash notes and look at a sunset. Magnificent, artistic and each one different. (I’m hoping that now since I’ve pointed out that each sunset is unique, you won’t try to boycott them too.)
- There are far more disturbing things on television than Chaz Bono dancing on a reality show. For instance, there’s Fox News. Oh. Right. You like that sort of thing.
- He wants to dance, not date your daughter. I think it’s fair to say your offspring, in fact, all your associates, are safe. I presume Chaz, like most thinking people, seeks intellectual equals for friends and companions. He has been the editor of a well-respected magazine (for which, I’m proud to say, I’ve written) and has authored three successful books. It’s unlikely that anyone in your social circle has actually read three books.
- If you really want to know what’s destroying the country, take a good look in the mirror. It’s not Chaz or gays and lesbians or immigrants or Muslims or (shudder) liberals. It’s you and yours. Those who judge, who divide, who prefer to fear and hate rather than seek to understand. Frightened, small people with little closed minds and even tinier self-esteem, who can only feel like they’re on top when they're kicking everyone not like them to the bottom.
- And now for you Chaz. Go dance your heart out. You’re awfully fetching in those suits, and you look happy and ready to take life head on. Good for you. Forget these haters—in the larger scheme of things, they’re totally inconsequential. Dance and celebrate the fact that you were brave enough to risk so much to become the person you were always meant to be. Dance and let your courage be a lesson to us all.