Sit-in for gay marriage in S.D.

ON MAY 27--the day after the California Supreme Court voted 6-1 to uphold Proposition 8, which defines marriage as being between a man and a woman--activists staged a five-hour sit-in at the San Diego County Administration Building after Brian Baumgardner and Michael Anderson, a same-sex couple, were denied a marriage license.

Two more same-sex couples joined Brian and Michael later in the day to request licenses. The action, which boasted 70 participants at its peak, was shut down by the County Sheriff's Department at the close of business. However, no arrests were made.

The LGBT movement in San Diego had spent the past few months building for protests when the ruling was to be announced. A rumor got around that the decision would come out the previous week, in effect, putting the movement on war footing for five days. The outreach effort paid off in a spirited and angry march of 3,500 through downtown streets on May 26.

Prop 8 also meant that Brian and Michael, who are both active in the San Diego Alliance for Marriage Equality (SAME) and have been together for eight years, couldn't get married as they had planned. A statement they had prepared was read to supporters rallying outside the sit-in:

Where celebrations should be taking place, instead are rallies, protests and marches. At a time when we should be planning our wedding, we are planning a resistance. Instead of writing our vows, we must write speeches. Instead of standing at the altar we are forced to stand for our right to be at the altar.

At a little after noon, Brian, Michael and a small army of news reporters made their way through the metal detectors and up the stairs to the clerk's office. There, they joined a dozen supporters who had trickled in, according to the plan, over the previous hour. The whole group moved into the office, and the couple approached the woman behind the counter.

A marriage license was requested, and the clerk responded by saying that, due to California state law, only opposite-sex couples could receive one. Then Michael informed her that the group of protesters would sit on the floor and occupy the office until they received a license.

After a moment of apprehension, someone in the group started singing a song that another local activist had written, "Just Like in Iowa," sung to the tune of "When Johnny Comes Marchin' Home":

Now Charlie and Johnny can marry, in Iowa;
Now Judy and Susie can marry, in Iowa!
Vermont and now Maine have followed suit,
While the right to liberty we pursue,
Here in California, just like in Iowa!

That's when the protesters took a seat on the floor of the office waiting area. For the better part of an hour, loud chants echoed through the halls: "Gay, straight, Black, white, marriage is a civil right," "Obama, Obama, let mama marry mama," "Yes we did in the Hawkeye State. Yes we can in the Golden State," "El pueblo unido jamás será vencido" and "It's time to end this hateful cycle--it's time to marry Brian and Michael!"

It was assumed that the sit-in would either be broken up immediately by the Sheriff's Department (who were there in force) or would be allowed to continue until the close of business at 5 p.m. The officers made it clear in conversations that they had no intention to disrupt an orderly protest. In fact, activists were able to move about the building--including to the restrooms--more or less un-obstructed. The group began to settle in.

OUTSIDE THE building, speakers addressed a small but vocal rally with updates about what was happening in the office. As it became clear that there was very little risk in joining the sit-in, the rally relocated upstairs. A flurry of text messages and Facebook postings enjoined activists who might have been apprehensive of civil disobedience to come and join in.

The big influx of people brought the sit-in to a fever pitch of chanting, singing and clapping. Two more couples--Adrian and Jonathon, and Sasha and Kimberly--arrived to demand marriage licenses, but were also denied and joined the sit-in.

A wonderful sense of solidarity and accomplishment swept through the crowd, which had now become too big for the waiting area and swelled to the hallway outside. With the cameras rolling and reporters holding non-stop interviews, it felt like the whole world was watching and that the occupation would be a smashing success.

During the five-hour sit-in, several breaks from the singing and chanting were taken to pass around inspiring and relevant literature, each person taking a turn to read a paragraph outloud to the group. An article on the 1969 Stonewall rebellion from the International Socialist Review was a big hit, as was a selection from Martin Luther King's "Letter from a Birmingham Jail." The section that got the most applause was:

We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was "well timed" in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This "Wait" has almost always meant "Never." We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."

The emotional high-water mark was, surprisingly, not during the times when the walls were rattling with the sounds of human voices, but when individuals went around the room and explained who they were and what made them sit in. Several people who were unincorporated into the movement at that point told their stories, which were sometimes painful and brought the room to tears.

One veteran gay radical was moved to say that he'd never been to a more inspiring protest. An interracial couple explained that, while they could get a marriage license in 2009, they would have been legally barred from doing so a little over 40 years ago, and that the denial of marriage to gay couples was just as unacceptable. They said that they were part of the sit-in to stand up to an unjust law that discriminated against couples seeking their civil rights.

AS CLOSING time approached, there needed to be another discussion--this time about the danger of arrest for those who stayed past closing time. In the beginning of the day, 12 of the core organizers, who are all members of SAME, were prepared to be arrested and go to jail. Elaborate plans were made to register them with a support structure that would stay in touch and could bail them out. Having that system in place, it was possible to get several people signed up to join them on the spot.

At 5:03 p.m., the lead deputy came in to announce that protesters could leave and not be arrested. Several stood up and left to applause and gratitude. Amazingly, 25 sitters remained in the room! At 5:10 p.m., the protesters were told that they would be charged with trespass, although they were somewhat vague about whether that would mean arrest.

One by one, a squad of burly deputies clasped the hands of protesters and pulled them to their feet. They started with spokesperson Charlie Pratt, an older man with a bad back. Bursting out of the clerk's office to a phalanx of news cameras, the activists were corralled down the stairs and past the metal detectors, outdoors to a raucous crowd of supporters. Everyone was tremendously relieved that nobody would be sent to jail and that no time and money would have to be wasted paying fines.

Several factors played into the success of the action.

The large number of participants may have made the difference in preventing arrests and the decision by the sheriff's department to allow the group to occupy the office for the entire afternoon. The size of the action made it a galvanizing inspiration to those involved, and a great example of militant struggle for the entire movement.

The outrageous 6-1 California Supreme Court decision proved to be the best opportunity since the passage of Prop 8 in November to bring thousands out to the street in protest. The Day of Decision crowd on May 26 was saturated with flyers for the sit-in the next day, and the action got a lot of nods.

Meticulous planning meant that, even if people were sent to jail, the situation would be under control. Knowing that this was in place and having held trainings, the core of activists was able to confidently adapt to circumstances as they became more favorable.