2000-07 - Simply Equal

 

 

 

 

LAWRENCE - Ben Zimmerman never intended to be a hero. However, five years ago, when the longtime Lawrence civil rights activist was the driving force behind the passage of Simply Equal, his objective was nothing short of heroic. His goal was to have a mere two words added to the Code of the City of Lawrence: sexual orientation.

Those two words, now officially a part of the city code since May 8, 1995, in effect made Lawrence the only legally safe place to be gay, lesbian or bisexual in the state of Kansas. That amendment made discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation illegal for employment, housing and public accommodations within the city of Lawrence. Five years later, it remains the only city in Kansas with such a law.

Zimmerman, a University of Kansas professor emeritus of social welfare, was one of the founding fathers of the Freedom Coalition and of what would become known as Simply Equal, the local grassroots effort which pushed for the amendment of the city code. Simply Equal also became the amendment’s unofficial name.

“I had tunnel vision,” Zimmerman recalls. “I was driving everybody mad. I was so focused on this thing day and night. Everyone thought I was crazy. I thought I was crazy!”

But by the time Zimmerman was done, his insane perseverance had paid off for the gay community. Lawrence was the proud owner of a new, improved human relations ordinance that included sexual orientation in its anti-discrimination clause.

Not that Zimmerman was the first to seek such an amendment. Before the success of the 1995 Simply Equal effort, there had been several failed attempts to pass a gay-rights ordinance in the city. And even though Lawrence has been known as a liberal college town and an oasis of tolerance for gays and lesbians, early opposition was fierce and the Freedom Coalition’s predecessors lacked a political strategy for success.

The political struggle that paved the way for Simply Equal began a decade earlier, in 1986, when the city commission refused to acknowledge Gay and Lesbian Awareness Week. After complaints from the queer community, the Lawrence Department of Human Relations conducted a study which confirmed local incidents of discrimination against gays and lesbians. They recommended that the words “sexual orientation” be added to the city’s existing anti-discrimination ordinance. But for two years, the issue was left untouched by a city commission whose members were apparently more concerned with economic development than with human rights.

In 1988, pressured by the local group Citizens for Human Rights in Lawrence, the city commission decided to vote on the issue. There was opposition from the Alliance of Citizens for Traditional Values, who said that the city’s study did not prove discrimination. They argued that passage of the amendment would force local businesses to establish affirmative action for gays. Influenced by the religious right, the commission voted 3-2 against the proposed amendment. 

Enter the Lawrence Alliance, an organization created in 1991 to deal with all aspects of racism and discrimination in Lawrence. Zimmerman and lesbian partners Diane Silver and Patty Doria lobbied the city-sponsored organization to include gays and lesbians in its numbers. Zimmerman and Silver became appointed members of the Alliance. They created the Freedom Coalition as one of the Alliance’s many subcommittees.

A split was inevitable when the Lawrence Alliance decided they wanted to become a non-profit organization and tackle their mission through education and forums and not through politics. Zimmer-man believed it was impossible to avoid politics when fighting racism and discrimination. Wanting to create a political organization, Zimmerman, Silver and Doria left the Lawrence Alliance in November 1991, taking the Freedom Coalition with them.

Trying to create a stronger organization than its predecessors, the Freedom Coalition hired a consultant and met to create a strategic plan. They decided their main goal would be to get “sexual orientation” added to the city ordinance. However, the coalition had its first setback when Doria passed away a couple months after the Freedom Coalition split from the Lawrence Alliance. After a period of mourning, Zimmerman, with some reluctance, became the head of the organization.

In the meantime, the National Organization for Women (NOW) started a nationwide effort to support gay rights. This resulted in the Lawrence chapter of NOW joining the fight on a local level. In 1992, the co-president of NOW’s local chapter, Lynne Green, agreed to chair the Freedom Coalition with Zimmerman.

“We then created a three-part campaign strategy,” Zimmerman said of the Freedom Coalition’s efforts to gather support from local businesses, organizations, and individuals. “First, we wanted to get the endorsement of about 200 or 300 high-profile names in town. The second part was to get as many signatures as we could. The third part was to put together as much educational information as possible.”

The support-gathering stage lasted for about two years. Petitions were circulated without fanfare, the idea being to create a large base of support before addressing the City Commission. Support came from several community groups ranging from religious and political organizations to social and campus associations.

By that time the Freedom Coalition had adopted the name “Simply Equal” for their initiative. The Coalition wanted to emphasize that its objective was to push for the ordinance amendment and not for “special rights.” The motto for the campaign was “Simply Equal - nothing more, nothing less.”

In November 1994 Simply Equal brought their request to city hall. They had prepared a 45-page proposal, including personal stories of discrimination in the community, answers to potential objections and a list of comparable communities which had passed similar laws (such as Boulder, Colo. and Columbia, Mo.). They included a list of more than 1,500 citizens (including queer author William S. Burroughs), 37 businesses and other community groups who publicly supported the request.

The Freedom Coalition had intentionally kept a low profile until this point to avoid rousing opposition too soon and wasting political energy too quickly. But once the Freedom Coalition delivered its proposal to the City Commission, the press immediately latched on to the story. The Lawrence Journal-World kept Simply Equal in the headlines for months and heightened awareness of the issue.

“Suddenly, from this very quiet organization,” Zimmerman remembers, “we were thrown into the limelight.”

Even after reading the Freedom Coalition’s detailed proposal, the commission remained divided. Commissioner John Nalbandian, a professor at the University of Kansas and mayor Jo Andersen, an early supporter, were receptive to Simply Equal’s appeal; Commissioners Robert Moody and Robert Schulte were opposed to it. Commissioner Doug Compton claimed to be undecided.

Meanwhile, Rev. Leo Barbee Jr., pastor of the Victory Bible Church, came forward as the leader of the opposition. Barbee, who had established himself as a leader of the black community, was in direct opposition to the NAACP’s policy of non-discrimination based on sexual orientation. Thus, the issue was beginning to divide the black community in Lawrence.

The city commission decided they wanted to have a study session to analyze the Freedom Coalition’s request. The session was held in January 1995 and gave each side 15 minutes to present their arguments. After Zimmerman and Green delivered their report, it was Barbee’s turn.

“I knew what material the opposition was using,” Zimmerman said. “A terrible film called The Gay Agenda and materials by Paul Cameron, a Ph.D. in psychology who was thrown out of the American Psychological Association. I had just mentioned how he was disreputable, discredited and out-of-date. Then Barbee came in and handed the commission pamphlets by Paul Cameron! [Mayor Andersen] asked if that was the same Paul Cameron they just heard about, and Barbee said, ‘Yes!’”

Barbee’s arguments consisted of erroneous statistics and descriptions of homosexual practices in graphic detail. Green said she would never forget the looks on the commissioners’ faces after Barbee went through his list of obscenities. She hoped that the Reverend’s testimony of opposition would be so offensive to city commissioners that they would take a stand immediately.

“I thought that sort of blatant ignorance would change their minds, but it didn’t,” Green said. “I was a bit shocked that the testimony of opposition to Simply Equal was so sinfully ignorant. There was so much misconception and fear around the issue.”

However, the vote remained two for and two opposed, with the decision being stalled by Commissioner Compton, whose vote remained undecided. With the primary election less than a month away, Compton, who was up for reelection, made a list of 33 questions he wanted answered before reaching a decision.

According to Zimmerman, Compton could have found the answers to most of these questions in the Constitution and in a high school civics book, but this way he would not have to commit to either side until after the primary.

“He could go downstairs to the human relations office and get answers to about ten of the questions,” Zimmerman said. “Some of them were so dumb. He wanted surveys of the whole United States. My response was that if the city wanted to pay for it, fine with me.”

Simply Equal was becoming an election issue, even though that was not the Freedom Coalition’s plan. Three of the five commission seats were up for reelection. Commissioners Andersen (for) and Moody (against) would remain. Commissioners Nalbandian and Compton were among a large field running for the three remaining spots.

“We had hoped that a decision would be reached before the election,” Zimmerman said. “We had wanted to stay out of electoral politics. That’s how näive we were. Actually, being thrown into [the election], it was favorable to us.”

Although there were many candidates in the primary who supported Simply Equal, only two of the six primary winners were for the initiative: Nalbandian, who finished first in the primary and political newcomer Allen Levine, who finished sixth. Compton, still undecided, finished fourth. The remaining candidates did not support Simply Equal.

Four days after the primary, Compton announced he did not need the answers to his 33 questions after all and that he had decided not to support Simply Equal. He then called for the commission to vote on the amendment before the general election.

“He was going to go with whatever was popular,” Zimmerman said. “After the primary, when the remaining candidates were two members of the religious right (against), Bonnie Augustine (against), Nalbadian (for) and Levine (for), he read that as meaning that the people were against it.”

The commission postponed a vote on the amendment despite Compton’s request and Simply Equal became the overriding electoral issue in the city. Without any hope of passing the amendment before the election, the Freedom Coalition needed to employ grassroots electoral tactics to elect both Levine and shoo-in candidate Nalbandian in order to have a majority, along with incumbent Andersen. But that would take a small miracle.

“When the commission didn’t vote on it, it was fuel for our fire,” Green recalls. “The sentiment was right, the public was behind us, and opposition in the commission was just a temporary glitch.”

Zimmerman and Green started campaigning tirelessly for Levine, canvassing the streets of Lawrence and encouraging voters to use only two of their three available votes, since only two candidates, Nalbandian and Levine, supported Simply Equal. This technique, known as bullet-voting, was instrumental in electing Levine. It worked: Nalbandian, Augustine and Levine won the election and Simply Equal had its majority.

“Allen was in sixth place in the primary,” Zimmerman recalled. “Never before in the city had somebody moved from sixth place into third place. The night before the election, I went over to visit with Allen, getting ready to lose. He thought we were going to make it. And he made it! Everybody thought we were so smart planning all of that.”

While Levine had not gotten into the race just to support Simply Equal, he acknowledged the initiative’s role in his victory.

“I had run to talk about growth issues and things like that, and [the Freedom Coalition] gave an injection of enthusiasm into the campaign,” Levine said. “I feel very fortunate to have been at the right place at the right time and wouldn’t trade the experience. I think it’s rare that public officials get a chance to vote on civil rights. It’s really a great honor.”

Compton, hurt by his indecisiveness, finished fifth in the election.

“Compton was betting on the fact that he was going to win this election,” Green said. “But he was so smug in that knowledge that he let Simply Equal become a part of the election. And it ended up becoming the most important issue and the reason people voted.”

After the election, actually passing Simply Equal was just a formality. On April 25, 1995, a full house looked on as the Lawrence City Commission voted 3-2 to include the words “sexual orientation” in the city’s human relations ordinance. The crowd cheered. After ten years of struggle, their town was a safer place for all its citizens.

The next week, May 2, the second reading of the ordinance was again approved 3-2. After publication May 8, 1995, in the Lawrence Journal-World, it was official.

For the next couple of years following passage of the amendment, the Freedom Coalition closely monitored every city commission election, since the local religious right had vowed to use those elections to get Simply Equal repealed. A petition drive was initiated in an attempt to reverse it, but the organizers were unable to collect enough signatures.

“At the time I thought, ‘If we make it through five years, no one is going to repeal it,’” Zimmerman said.

And it has been five years. Looks like we made it, but how has Lawrence changed? Mike Wildgen, who has been Lawrence city manager since before Simply Equal times, believes that Lawrence did not change at all.

“The decision to add sexual orientation to the city code sent a clear message that discrimination will not be tolerated here,” Wildgen said. “I think it’s still a city that tolerates a variety of lifestyles. It was just important to legitimize sexual orientation by including it in the legislation.”

Confirming that Lawrence is committed to the protection of all people, Ray Samuel, Human Relations/Human Resources Director, said that the city’s educational presentation packages all included a section on sexual orientation. He said that more important than trying to enforce the law is to educate people about it.

Samuel said he receives calls from employers and employees alike wanting to know how the city ordinance protects their rights, and how to prove a violation against the ordinance. Individuals must issue a complaint before investigation can begin. Most of the complaints are handled informally and can be settled during a telephone conversation. The only time complaints become a public issue is when an individual decides to file suit. Statistical reports are not made on most complaints because they are settled informally. This is true not only of gay issues, but of all kinds of discrimination issues, Samuel said.

“We listen to everybody, but we’d rather hear informed arguments instead of blind hate,” Samuel said. “You’re always going to hear from people that don’t support it. But it’s the law and if you fail to comply, then we’re going to come after you. You have a choice: don’t comply and you’ll be investigated, or comply with the law, provide a decent and safe place for all employees and save yourself a whole lot of money paying attorneys to represent you.”

In 1999, there were three complaints filed concerning violations against the ordinance. This year, only one complaint has been filed so far. All complaints were employment related, and were processed and investigated, Samuel said.

And how do Lawrence residents think the town has changed with the existence of Simply Equal? For Christine Robinson, a doctoral student in Sociology at KU who moved to Lawrence in 1994, when it was still legally permissible to discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation, the city is now a better place to live. She believes passage of Simply Equal has profoundly benefited all of the residents of the city, enhancing Lawrence’s reputation as a friendly, progressive city.

“I think the entire campaign not only outlawed institutional discrimination in our city based on sexual orientation,” Robinson added, “but Simply Equal raised a great deal of awareness about sexual orientation among the residents of the city. I think the amendment empowered lesbians, bisexuals, and gay men and our heterosexual allies in many ways.

“I think GLB people and our family members and friends in Lawrence feel safer knowing we have recourse to this ordinance to redress a grievance of discrimination if it occurs,” Robinson continued. “I think that the city as a whole has become more united around values of fairness and equal treatment.”

In 1994, Robinson had written a letter to the Lawrence Journal-World about the need to add sexual orientation to the human relations ordinance. The newspaper printed her letter and her address, and a few days later, she received a “religious” pamphlet in the mail “with cartooned pictures of gay men soliciting children for sodomy.” She perceived that as an intimidation technique.

“If the intent was to intimidate me, it backfired,” Robinson said. “It made me realize even more how very important getting Simply Equal passed was, and I became more vigilant in my political endeavors. So many of us don’t get involved because we don’t think we can make a difference. Simply Equal made a difference.”

Green agrees that Lawrence is now a better place to live. The former co-chair of the Freedom Coalition has not been actively involved in local politics since the times of Simply Equal. As the executive director of Van Go Mobile Arts, a non-profit after-school program for at-risk youth in Lawrence, Green does not have the time to be as much of an activist as she would like. But her role in 1995 helped send the message that Lawrence is a community that takes a stand against homophobia.

“I have no idea if gay bashing is down in this city since Simply Equal or if incidents of discrimination are down,” Green said. “All I know is that it sent the right message. The statement that it made and continues to make is that we’re not going to tolerate discrimination here. I don’t think what we did was just symbolic, it was very powerful. The effects may not just be remedying discrimination, but preventing it.

“It was an incredible growth process for the community,” Green reminisces. “People became educated. It galvanized people who may not have been out there working on behalf of anybody’s rights, but who didn’t believe that hate should govern the political discourse. A lot of regular people who wanted to take a stand, finally did.”

Green takes personal pride in having been a part of such a worthy initiative that affected so many people’s lives locally. She said she wanted it engraved on her tombstone because Simply Equal is one of the things that she is most proud of in her lifetime.

“I’m a huge believer in local politics,” Green said. “It doesn’t feel like it nationally, but we really can affect change in our own community. It’s a small town, and what you realize is that not that many people vote. So if there is an issue that you can galvanize people around, you can make things happen here.”

Levine, who considers Simply Equal “one of the few bright moments in the state’s recent history,” remembers constituents threatening to leave Lawrence if the amendment ever passed.

“My response was always, ‘I’ll be standing at K-10 with a hanky waving good-bye,’” Levine said laughingly. “Ultimately, my comment to most people who were really against it was that whether you believe in this or not, the day after we pass Simply Equal the sun is going to rise and set on our community and you’re not going to notice one bit of difference. But some people, just a few of your fellow residents and neighbors, might be sleeping a little more comfortably.”

It is true that Lawrence’s queer residents can sleep a little more soundly these days. But there is still much to be done. Robinson, for instance, is still waiting for the city to eliminate institutional discrimination against same-sex and unmarried heterosexual couples, like the University of Kansas did when they adopted a domestic partnership program in 1998.

“We have a lot of work to do,” Robinson said. “I would like for the legal definition of family to be expanded to include same-sex couples and unmarried heterosexual couples. One way to do this would be to implement a city domestic partnership registry. I would also like to see gender identity added to the city’s human relations ordinance. Both of these issues seem to be logical next steps for human rights in the city.”

Levine, who is a marketing director for a natural products company and on the board of directors of the Douglas County AIDS Project, sees many exciting prospects ahead.

“I don’t know how realistic something like marriage is,” Levine said, “but I think with things happening in Vermont, and with big corporations being forced by city governments, like San Francisco, to provide domestic partnership benefits, it will slowly catch on, hopefully here. Otherwise, we’ll continue to be passed over by the rest of the country.”

Not if the Freedom Coalition has its way. Zimmerman recently met a Douglas County delegation to the state legislature to request the inclusion of “sexual orientation” in the state’s civil rights law, the creation of anti-hate crime legislation and the repeal of the sodomy law. Kansas is one of three states that still has a same-sex sodomy law, the others being Oklahoma and Arkansas.

The Freedom Coalition is also working with PFLAG to add “sexual orientation” to the policies of the Lawrence School Board. Although public schools are covered by the city ordinance, Zimmerman believes that teachers, staff and students will feel safer if the school board has their own anti-discrimination policies. Zimmerman reports that they have encountered no opposition on this issue.

Through the Freedom Coalition, Zimmerman continues to shape local politics in the town he has made his own. Since he moved to Lawrence in 1972 from Washington D.C., Zimmerman has seen the town grow enormously. But he is responsible for something even bigger, something he believes is Lawrence’s claim to fame: to be known as the city in Kansas that has a human relations ordinance that includes “sexual orientation.”

“People have moved here for that reason,” Zimmerman said. “I think they feel safer here.”

Zimmerman said that just because it worked in Lawrence, does not mean it would work everywhere. Attempts to pass similar ordinances in Topeka and Wichita fell apart. Zimmerman acknowledged that Lawrence has a unique activist mentality that allowed for the victory of Simply Equal.

“If you’re persistent and well organized, you can make it happen,” Zimmerman enthused. “Sometimes you lose, but you’ve got to keep at it. I wanted to let people know that you don’t win by just sitting back and doing nothing. What happened is that I became a local hero, ‘Ben did it!’ But that’s not the point.

“Ben doesn’t want to be a local hero,” Zimmerman joked. “He wants to be a role model!”