Bigoted attacks on LGBTQ+ people can’t go unanswered by Americans

My Great-Aunt Luke worked for 50 years as a nurse, treating three and even four generations of the same families in an Oklahoma town of 25,000 people.

Her given name was Lucy, but her friends and family called her Luke. From early childhood in the 1930s to her death a decade ago, she preferred men’s clothing and close-cropped hair. In the 1960s, she befriended an older widow with a bouffant named Mary Beth. They lived together for 40 years, and Luke was at Mary Beth’s bedside when she passed.

Many folks, including my family, called them spinsters. In their home, one bedroom was set up like a teenage boy’s Field & Stream magazine fantasy, with wood-paneling, fishing tackle, a .22-caliber rifle, oddities of nature and camping gear. Another bedroom was full of frilly bedclothes, needlepoints and old master prints.

The children were told these were Luke’s and Mary Beth’s rooms. But the third bedroom looked like people slept there and held their clothes. This was the 1970s, and while my parents supported what was then called gay rights, other relatives did not.

Luke and Mary Beth practiced “don’t ask, don’t tell” before the military did. As long as they didn’t draw attention, they figured they could keep living in their town.

My younger cousins put the pieces together in 1991 after watching “Fried Green Tomatoes,” a film telling the story of a lesbian love affair beginning

in the 1930s. But even with the progress toward LGBTQ+ rights and family reassurances, Luke and Mary Beth never felt comfortable talking about their love.

I always found that tragic. They had a healthier and longer-lasting relationship than any of the heterosexual couples in my family. I still consider their love and respect an example to emulate.

The only hint of Luke’s full identity came in a conversation about comforting a patient and friend with breast cancer who was about to undergo a double mastectomy.

“I told her I’d cut mine off and give them to her if I could. Goodness knows I’ve never had any use for them,” Luke

told me.

I’ll never know if Luke was transgender, but I know she never felt at liberty to talk about herself. I write about LGBTQ+ rights, and I celebrate June as Pride month because I never want anyone to live in fear of condemnation the way Luke did.

LGBTQ+ people have made enormous strides, and I like to imagine attending Luke and Mary Beth’s wedding during a Pride celebration. But this summer, bigots are marring Pride, calling LGBTQ+ people perverse and trying to put them back in the closet.

Armed right-wing militia have shown up at drag shows. Nationwide, conservatives have introduced 520 antiLGBTQ+

bills, and the Texas Legislature passed some of the most oppressive. The Human Rights Campaign declared a national state of emergency last Tuesday.

Bigots are also boycotting businesses that participate in Pride.

Anti-LGBTQ+ protesters tore up Pride merchandise in a Target, and the national chain gave them exactly what they wanted by taking the items off the shelves. Conservatives are boycotting Kohl’s because they sell baby items with proLGBTQ+ messages and images, presumably for LGBTQ+ parents.

Anonymous bigots have paid for billboards in Dallas slamming Southwest Airlines for supporting LGBTQ+ rights. Anheuser-Busch, meanwhile, folded under pressure and dumped a transgender social media influencer.

The Republican Party of Texas proudly displayed its bigotry, selling anti-LGBTQ+ T-shirts that say “Reclaim the Rainbow.”

Pride month exists to fight against discrimination. The parades are protests demanding that society respect LGBTQ+ rights as equal to all others.

I became a soldier and later a journalist to protect liberty and human rights. People can fill their hearts with hate if they wish, but when they use violence and demagoguery to deny others their liberty, they become oppressors.

This year’s rise in bigotry may be a politically manipulated backlash against past progress in advancing human rights. But the attacks on LGBTQ+ people and their culture remains no less reprehensible than discrimination based on gender and ethnicity.

Great-Aunt Luke dedicated her life to caring for a community that she feared might turn on her if she came out. Perhaps nursing and award-winning bass angling were strategies to earn acceptance for her masculine demeanor so she could eke out a thinly veiled secret life with Mary Beth. They deserved better.

Chris Tomlinson, named

2021 columnist of the year by the Texas Managing Editors, writes commentary about money, politics and life in Texas. Sign up for his “Tomlinson’s Take” newsletter at HoustonChronicle.com/ TomlinsonNewsletter or Expressnews.com/ TomlinsonNewsletter. ctomlinson@hearstcorp.com twitter.com/cltomlinson

Christopher Lee/New York Times Legislative attacks on LGBTQ+ people have spiked in past years, with conservatives across the U.S. filing 520 anti-LGBTQ+ bills in 2023 alone. Texas has passed some of the most restrictive measures.