by Stephen Marc Beaudoin
Memo to Kate Brown, candidate for Oregon secretary of state: Please just butch it up a bit.
You are the bisexual candidate, after all. You received a good amount of queer money from queer organizations like the Gay and Lesbian Victory Fund and Basic Rights Oregon. Citing your noteworthy legislative record on queer equality issues, among other accomplishments, Just Out offered our endorsement of you in the primary election contest (although that endorsement is buried in your Web site—a Web site that fails to include the words “gay,” “lesbian,” “bisexual” or even “queer” in it).
I know, I know: You’re married (to a man) with kids now. You’ve since traded your bullish short-cropped superdyke cut of the early ’90s for elegant shoulder-length locks. You could probably pass for any equality-minded hetero candidate on the campaign trail. Local message boards and blogs are filled with comments from folks who voted for you in the primary election, many of them “shocked to find out” about your queer identity. And hey, what’s wrong with that?
Except it’s just this type of glass-closet candidacy that is worrisome to some queers, especially those putting their money behind Brown and other queer candidates. What is it about her candidacy that has some queers unfamiliar with Brown furrowing their brows in confusion? If she’s enjoying a fully recognized marriage to a man, and yet at the same time self-identifies as bisexual, does she deserve money from organizations supporting queer candidates?
“I’m actually hoping that my sexual orientation will not be an issue in the primary,” Brown told a Human Rights Campaign podcast producer last February. “But I have to tell you, the fact that I have Victory Fund support has just been amazing to me. It’s really going to make the difference in my campaign and my ability to win this race.”
Brown is, by the same token, in the awkward position of having to defend her erstwhile queer orientation from certain right-wing critics, like an anonymous “NW Republican” blogger, who soberly asked readers to think about “what the future would be like under the hammer fist of bisexual pagan Kate Brown.” Scary thought?
I think one of the reasons many queers support queer political candidates are the common resonances they feel with them—the “Hey, I’m a community organizer and father just like Barack” or “Hillary grew up in a working-class family and understands working families’ needs like me” factor. Tina Kotek, openly lesbian state representative, is fairly outspoken about her orientation and her long-term domestic partner. Her biographical profile alone seems to flip a switch with other queers. We recognize, in Kotek’s “otherness” and visible struggle for equality—her poignant testimony during the Oregon Family Fairness Act hearings in 2007 was hugely moving to people who saw and heard it—as our own as well and, because of that, seek to buoy her chances at the ballot. We want her to win because she has walked our walk.
I don’t mean to suggest that queers should only vote queer at the ballot or that queers should exclude other aspects of a candidate’s record and platform at the expense of supporting solely based on their orientation. I wrote about this very issue before [“No Pro Homo,” Aug. 10]. But I do think this desire to see our “otherness” represented in physical form throughout public government is very strong—and could present problems for candidates like Brown, who gives off such a wholesomely hetero vibe in her campaign literature and appearances, and makes little mention of her queer orientation anywhere in her campaign, although she’s previously vowed to be “open and honest” about her orientation, and is happy to take checks from the queer community.
Brown’s sole competitor in the secretary of state race is a sorely underfunded Republican with the unfortunate name of Rick Dancer. He is not a good candidate for the office. Brown is expected to more or less shimmy right past Dancer to the secretary’s office in November’s election. If she does, this would make her one of the highest-ranking openly queer elected officials in the country.
But what does that mean for Brown and for queers in Oregon, if anything? What exactly do we expect from openly queer people—even if only vaguely “open”—on the campaign trail and once they’re elected to office?
I like seeing transparency, a clear platform, well-stated policy positions and accessibility in a candidate. Brown still has some work to do in these areas, although I freely admit not ringing her personally to discuss the issues raised in this column.
So, if elected, is there any chance she’d once again chop off her locks, make another drag show appearance and in some way give a public nod to her queer supporters? She’s got a few weeks left before Nov. 4….
Staff Writer
Stephen Marc Beaudoin writes about Portland arts and queer culture at http://fromeverycorner.blogspot.com. He welcomes feedback at stephen@justout.com.