Yesterday the California Supreme Court announced its decision to uphold Proposition 8, banning same-sex marriage in the state. It also affirmed the validity of all the marriages performed during the months leading up to the proposition's passage. So, those who are married already, are married. Those who aren't, can't. At least not here. At least not if they call it marriage.
As a friend said last night, very bravely, in front of a whole congregation of grieving gay people, "I am over marriage. I am so over marriage." Word. Me, too. So I'm not going to get into the political analysis. Instead I want to think about a perversely heartening and disturbing story I heard about the police.
In SF, there was lots of planned civil disobedience in front of City Hall. A few hundred folks got arrested, about 40 of them clergy, including the Rabbi and Rabbinical Intern of our local Big Gay Synagogue.
The way the arrests went down was ... really peculiar. From what I understand, a bunch of gay cops volunteered to be on crowd control duty at the action. They were the friendliest, helpfulest crowd control cops ever. They circulated in the crowd and let people know what was going on. They weren't pushy. By all accounts they were even cute.
When it came time to start arresting the clergy folks, these gay cops actually refused to do it, prompting more (presumably straight?) cops to get called in, who went ahead and arrested folks, while gay cops stood by making sure nobody got hurt. And actually, as far as I've heard, no one got hurt. Gay cops videoed the pat downs, which protesters interpreted as holding other (straight?) cops accountable for their treatment of those arrested.
Overall, the safest "arrested at a protest" story I've ever heard.
And yet I am left reeling.
I live in a place where cops are on the side of protestors.