Full disclosure: Author Matt Dupree supports the rights of citizens to marry whomever they feel like, for whatever reasons they deem fit. Furthermore, this writer supports the rights of Americans to go ahead and be Americans, and live up to the radical freedom and equality that they’re entitled to under the constitution. They’re your rights and nobody can vote them away.

3:00pm | This could’ve been much worse. The August 4th rally at Bixby Park was planned long before the decision to overturn Proposition 8 was handed down. Flyers for the event carried the singular image of an outstretched fist striking the air and the ominous phrase “Day Of Decision.” Obviously, this is exactly what it was, but in the world of politics things are almost never proclaimed to be what they explicitly are. The possibility that this would be an event of commiseration was very real: but even with the decision to overturn Prop 8 firmly in hand, the mood was not wholly ecstatic. There was joy, and this was a victory, but this was not to be a victory lap. This was more like Christmas in the trenches.

The citizens of Long Beach who support equal marriage rights had already learned this lesson. On June 16th, 2008, the California Supreme Court ruled that equal protection allowed same-sex marriages. In November, Proposition 8 passed by a slim margin and nullified that protection by stating unequivocally that same-sex couples were simply incapable of getting married. This sort of backlash isn’t new to the LGBT community. Every stride they have made in their long fight for equality has been responded to with the institutionalized force of the majority. When every step forward brings the real possibility of reprisal, it’s very easy to grow complacent.

Click here for more photos from last night’s rally, by photographer Daniel DeBoom.

This was not the case at Bixby Park yesterday evening. The meeting grew thick as the loudspeakers flicked on, but the mood remained pensive (with the exception of many attending dogs, who reacted to the large crowd in various manners of confusion). A representative from Lambda Legal took the first speech slot to explain the meaning of the day’s decision. There will be no same-sex marriages yet, and the door is still open for an appeal from the proponents of Prop 8 (Who, in fact, have already issued an appeal), but Judge Walker’s 136-page ruling goes a long way to dismantle Prop 8’s legal foundation. The bulk of Prop 8’s arguments don’t really stack up when you start bringing in experts and research and all, and that’s exactly what Judge Walker stated: there’s simply no reason for proposition 8 to exist (or at least none presented by the defense), other than to take away the rights of U.S. Citizens.

This dry legalese wasn’t exactly riveting, but it was absolutely necessary at that moment of chin-scratching contemplation. Councilmember Robert Garcia proved to be the inspirational apex of the night, if only because he understood deeply the split attitude of the evening. He too seemed to see that Great Other Shoe floating just beyond the horizon, ready to drop. Suja Lowenthal, the councilmember to whom Bixby Park is home turf, was not to be outdone. Her speech verified her status as queen of Broadway (the emcee made sure to compliment her fiery black pumps as she exited).
But of course, it wasn’t all pomp and ritual.

Late in the rally, three same-sex couples were brought up to discuss the importance of their marriages, and a lesbian woman in the second couple managed to steal the show. Not because she adroitly skewered the notion of LGBT couples as less-than-capable parents in a rare moment of apoplexy, but because she did it while bouncing her young daughter on her shoulders all the while. In a sublime moment of “why didn’t anyone else think of that?”, the AMP organization’s founder Annie Parkhurst proposed to her partner Sylvia (also AMP’s program director) after an obviously hurried speech about AMP and its goals (just go to amporg.org, we’ve got a wedding to plan!).

The night ended on a somber-yet-necessary note as Geoff Maddox of HateCrimeAwareness.org took to the stage to remind everyone that this sort of victory can inspire hostility. It was the elephant in the room: the notion that many people throughout the country still consider the LGBT community to be unwanted outsiders, and they are willing to go to great lengths to do so. This was not a parade, nor a great show of queer nerve. The goal was to mark a victory, one that may prove big or small, but still one deserving of celebration. It’s not often that this community gains such ground, but there’s still much more difficult work to be done. It’s easy to get caught up in the layers of cultural, moral, and political spectacle and lose sight of the human element, but the Bixby rally was all about the people. There was a lot of cheering and applause (the speeches seemed to average one intensely polite round of clapping per every three sentences), but the image that most sticks with me was completely silent: Two men, wordlessly holding hands, listening intently to what the future may bring for them.

Matt Dupree is a writer and graduate of the CSULB English Department. He lives in Long Beach.