In his first year as ED of the state’s LGBT lobby organization, Coleman led the way in getting anti-bullying bills passed. Now he’s setting his sights on marriage equality

CAPITOL GAINS | Equality Texas Executive Director Dennis Coleman said two anti-bullying bills passed this year represent the first successful pro-equality legislation the state has seen since 2001.

JOHN WRIGHT  |  Senior Political Writer
wright@dallasvoice.com

Shortly after he took over as executive director of Equality Texas in July 2010, Dennis Coleman was faced with a tough decision.

Thanks to the economic recession and several months without an ED, the organization could barely pay its bills and was surviving from fundraiser to fundraiser.

In a move he now says should have come sooner, Coleman was forced to lay off three people — or half of Equality Texas’ staff.

“The unfortunate thing was that I had to come in as a new person and make that very hard decision,” Coleman said recently. “In order for the organization to breathe, it was going to have to happen, because there had been so much cutting already done, that there was nowhere to go except to the payroll. And it was not even an option of making the recommendation of reduced salaries. It had to be a complete cut of those positions. Those cuts were in our field and our political department, which was a very hard decision considering we were heading into the session.”

Those who were let go included Randall Terrell, the group’s chief lobbyist, and with the biennial Legislature set to convene in January, Coleman acknowledged that board members and donors were nervous.

Riding a Tea Party wave, Republicans had seized a supermajority in the Texas House in November elections, and there were fears that anti-gay legislation from past years could be revived.

But Coleman said in retrospect, the layoffs brought together Equality Texas’ board members and remaining staff in an unexpected way. Volunteer board members were motivated to not only raise money like never before — but also to roll up their sleeves and help with the day-to-day work of the organization, especially lobbying.

Still, no one harbored any illusions about passing pro-LGBT legislation in 2011. Coleman said with right-wing lawmakers apparently preoccupied by immigration and women’s rights, he was just hoping for an “opportunity to get my feet wet.”

“Little did we know what really awaited us, and I think once again credit goes to the staff that’s there right now, as well as the board members, how we were able to adjust and take advantage of the opportunities that were opening up before us,” he said.

STEPS TO EQUALITY | Coleman, shown with Deputy Director Chuck Smith, said the group is now looking at ways to begin chipping away at Texas' 2005 marriage amendment.

Those opportunities took the form of anti-bullying legislation, which Equality Texas had backed repeatedly in previous sessions to no avail. But this time, in the wake of a series of highly publicized teen suicides across the nation, even conservative lawmakers wanted to get something done.

Under Coleman’s leadership, Equality Texas was able to seize upon the momentum, forging a coalition alongside groups including the Texas Freedom Network and the Anti-Defamation League.

Equality Texas also brought in advocates like gay Fort Worth Councilman Joel Burns, by then a celebrity for his “It Gets Better” speech, and reached out to the parents of suicide victims — including gay 13-year-old Asher Brown of Houston.

Six months later, the result was passage of what Coleman called the first two pro-equality bills to become law in Texas since 2001, when Gov. Rick Perry signed hate crimes legislation.

While the anti-bullying bills don’t include specific protections for LGBT youth, Coleman said they would not have passed if they did.

“The final version is not the ideal policy, but at the same time, we were not excluded,” Coleman said. “I know that’s a difficult thing to try to explain to a community that not just feels but knows it’s targeted because of who they are. But it was important for us to get something passed to protect children. … That was one of the things that we had promised to the families, that we would get something passed.”

Meanwhile, Equality Texas also managed to fight off anti-gay legislation — including efforts to eliminate funding for LGBT resource centers on college campuses, and ban transgender marriage.

And today, as the group prepares to enter 2012, its finances are looking up. Coleman said the recently approved budget for next year includes funds to reinstate two positions that were eliminated in 2010.

For his role in turning around Equality Texas — the statewide LGBT equality group in the nation’s second-largest state — Coleman is Dallas Voice’s LGBT Person of the Year.

‘It’s been a great year’

Jeanne Rubin, an Equality Texas board member from Frisco, said it was only her first or second meeting in early 2010 when former Executive Director Paul Scott announced he was stepping down.

“It’s been a great year,” Rubin said this week. “We really have come full circle, and Dennis really had to hit the ground running. If we were going to get anything done, it had to be a nonpartisan effort, so we had to go out of our comfort circle. I think maybe partially because Dennis was new, he was really able to do that and forge those relationships with legislators.”

Anne Wynn, an Austin attorney who chairs the group’s board, was one of those who drew on her own lobbying experience to help out after the layoffs. During the session, Wynn, Coleman and Deputy Director Chuck Smith became “the three musketeers of Equality Texas,” she said.

“Since he got here, we have righted the ship, and he’s done a good job of helping us do that,” Wynn said of Coleman. “He’d never spent any time at the Capitol. I didn’t have any idea that we’d be able to pass not one but two anti-bullying bills. Dennis did a great job of meeting the legislators and their key staff people, and establishing relationships with them, so that we could help get those bills through the committees, and then back on the floors and eventually passed. For a person that was a complete novice about the legislative process, he really did a great job.”

Although Coleman was relatively new to the State Capitol, he had plenty of experience in the LGBT equality movement. Prior to joining Equality Texas, Coleman spent seven years as executive director of the South Central Region of Lambda Legal, based in Dallas.

Ken Upton, a senior staff attorney at Lambda Legal who worked closely with Coleman, recalled him as “very jocular.”

“He laughs, he smiles a lot, and I think that’s one of the things people like about him. He brings kind of a fun-ness to the job,” Upton said. “He’d walk into a room and talk to anybody. That really was his strength.”

Upton also noted that Coleman is one of the few local activists he’s met who’s originally from here.

Coleman, now 48, said he grew up in an upper middle class household in the heart of South Dallas. His parents were members of the Methodist church at Malcolm X and Martin Luther King boulevards, just west of Fair Park, and Coleman graduated from Bishop Dunn High School.

After studying communications at the University of Texas, Coleman first became an activist when he volunteered for the speaker’s bureau at Resource Center Dallas, educating people about HIV/AIDS in local churches.

From there he got involved with the Black Tie Dinner and served on the board of the LGBT fundraiser for four years. He then joined the Board of Governors of the Human Rights Campaign, which he eventually co-chaired.

“Like a lot of people, I started really on the ground,” Coleman said.

In 2003, Coleman left a career in sales and marketing at Sprint to join Lambda Legal.

He said he was happy there and had no intention of leaving, until being approached last year about the Equality Texas position.

His only reservation was the prospect of a permanent move to Austin, which wouldn’t have worked for him and his partner, fellow activist Gregory Pynes.

Coleman met Pynes when they were both volunteering for HRC. They’ve been together nine years and share a home off Garland Road near the Dallas Arboretum.

But Coleman was open to commuting from Dallas and living part-time in Austin — so he took the job.

From bullying to marriage equality

Since then, Coleman said he’s logged more than 30,000 miles on his car, driving back and forth from Big D to the capital — which he said makes a good time for conference calls.

When the Legislature isn’t in session, his focus is fundraising and education, and he’s traveling throughout the state, meaning he doesn’t need to be based in Austin.
Equality Texas recently completed its strategic plan for 2012, which focuses heavily on civic engagement, Coleman said.

The group is scrapping its State of the State conference — previously held in Austin in off legislative years — and replacing it with a series of 12 regional equality projects throughout Texas.

“We want to, instead of saying come to us, we want to go to you,” Coleman said. “We want to work with you in your own community.”

Utilizing college interns, a project called “Real Texas, Real Lives” will document the experiences of LGBT people and their allies.

The aim is to build political power and create more advocates like David and Amy Truong, Asher’s Brown’s parents.

“Here was this family who had never been to Austin, never lobbied before, never spoke publicly before, but saw this thing through,” Coleman said. “Sometimes Amy would beat me to some of the meetings I had set up. I wish everyone could experience that and see that if we just got people to do phone calls, what a difference that can make, or show up to hearings, what a difference that can really make.”

Coleman said Equality Texas’ relationships with the families of bullying victims likely was the group’s biggest contribution to the passage of the anti-bullying bills.

“No other group in the coalition had those relationships,” he said. “When it was time for the hearings, we had Montana Lance’s family, we had Jon Carmichael’s family, and we were working with them. No other organization was working with them, and when the session was about to end and there was not any traction, Equality Texas was the organization that at that moment could call those families and say, ‘Hey, we need you here in Austin to go with us, because we need this to move, and it can move with you.’”

In addition to passage of the anti-bullying bills, Coleman said committee hearings were held on 10 other pro-LGBT measures. And at most of those hearings, the group was able to call witnesses.

Coleman recalled one hearing on an employment nondiscrimination bill, in front of a committee made up of all Republicans.

“The conversation was not around sexual orientation, it was really around gender identity and expression,” he said. “We didn’t talk about gay. We talked about transitioning in the workplace. What an eye opener to me.”

He added that he believes the threat of anti-gay legislation in Texas is nearing its end.

“You’re going to have your Wayne Christians,” he said, referring to the author of the failed effort to de-fund LGBT resource centers. “But people are slowly moving away from using gay people as punching bags.”

Coleman said he now knows what it takes to get a bill passed, and with a large number of incumbents retiring, Equality Texas is re-energizing its PAC and focusing on voter registration.

One of the keys for the group will be the ability to hire staff to help out with development and field operations.

“Right now there are three of us trying to do the job I wouldn’t even say of six but of 10,” Coleman said. “In a state of this size, we need people on the ground. … I’m in the very cautious growth stage, but I know that we need to have people that can implement the field programs, as well as someone to help raise money. Right now I’m the sole fundraiser for the organization, and so we need someone who can definitely help us with our monthly donors, our capital club members, while I concentrate on engaging corporations with our work.”

In the 2013 session, Coleman said, Equality Texas’ two legislative priorities will be employment nondiscrimination and relationship recognition.

Armed with results from its 2010 Equality Poll showing broad support for relationship recognition, Coleman said the group’s strategy will include incremental gains, but with the ultimate goal of marriage equality.

He said legal experts are already looking at how to chip away at the 2005 constitutional amendment, which banned both same-sex marriage and civil unions.

“It is definitely a multi-year strategy, but I think that as our poll indicates, we have over 63 percent of voting Texans who would support civil unions, and we have almost 45 percent that would support marriage. That’s double what it was in 2005,” Coleman said.

“We’re talking to our colleagues in New York. We’re talking to our colleagues in California. We’re talking to folks at Freedom to Marry, about what does it look like here in Texas, and what have you seen? We’re going to be engaging our friends at Lambda Legal, who won Iowa. What does that look like and what should our steps be?”

This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition December 23, 2011.

    Holiday cards are inherently personal—they are a meaningful way to share a part of your life with other people. When you are thinking about who you want to send cards to this year, consider adding your State Senator and State Representative to your list. For those who do not have lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender people in their lives, it can be easy to label us as an “other.” As long as LGBT people remain only an idea to our representatives, they are unlikely to fight for us. When they receive your card, your family will become real and personal to them. When they consider legislation affecting LGBT people, they will no longer see something intangible and distant—they will see you and your family. This simple action can be extremely powerful. If we show more people what we are really like, we stand to gain many more allies.

Use your holiday card to put a face to LGBT equality.  Find your representatives and their contact information.  

Keep up with Equality Texas by joining our Action Center.

At Equality Texas, we envision a state where all Texans are treated equally with dignity and respect.

Posted by Walter Simons, Equality Texas Intern

Same-sex parents who consider moving will have many of the same fears that different-sex parents might. They will have concerns about uprooting their children and about leaving familiar places and people behind. In addition, they will have to think about what it means to be a LGBT person in their new location. They will find that the status of their relationship to each other, to their assets, and to their children may change. Their personal safety and the security of their job may be put in question. 

We were recently contacted by a married lesbian couple from California who are considering moving to Austin. Although they had heard that Austin is LGBT friendly, they wanted some information about how moving to Texas would affect their rights. 

I started my research by looking up basic rights related to relationship recognition and employment protection. I found that these rights essentially don’t exist for LGBT individuals in Texas. Texas does not legally recognize same-sex relationships nor does it honor marriages formalized in other states. There are no public or private statewide employment protections based on sexual orientation or gender identity.

For the sake of comparison, I searched for LGBT rights in California. California recognizes same-sex relationships through domestic partnerships and honors marriages performed in other jurisdictions. California has statewide protections that prevent against employment discrimination based on both sexual orientation and gender identity. 

Undoubtedly, this couple faces a difficult decision. Austin has a lot to offer, including important employment opportunities. But, moving to Texas also means no longer being considered a married couple and losing a sense of security at work and in their personal life. Those changes must feel like a significant step in the wrong direction.

The world is perhaps ultimately not as small for LGBT people. There still remains an extreme distance between life in a place like California and one like Texas. With time, we need to reach a point where LGBT mobility is not qualified by the appearance and disappearance of one’s basic rights. 

At Equality Texas, we envision a state where all Texans are treated equally with dignity and respect.

To achieve our vision, we need your help.

Join our Action Center to stay informed about issues facing LGBT and allied Texans, and learn how you can contribute.  

Develop a relationship with your State Representative. Whether in person, or with a family photo, letter or card, show your State Representative that your family may look different than theirs, but is no less valid. Find your Representative.

Posted by Walter Simons

Public Policy & Legislative Advocacy Intern

It should be noted that lesbians and gays live everywhere in Texas. But, it is easier to self-identify as such in communities that are supportive of equality.

It is not coincidental that Austin/Travis County has comprehensive non-discrimination laws and public/private sector employers providing competitive employee benefit plans that include domestic partner benefits. 

And, with the notable exception of State Rep. Paul Workman (who proposed legislation in support of the discriminatory federal "Defense of Marriage Act"),  elects pro-equality lawmakers.

Give it a read..... 

 Numbers of same-sex couples rise in Central Texas, new census data show.

Bars in the Montrose area of Houston - the neighborhood in which Paul Broussard was murdered - are adopting safe-haven policies to combat what they fear is a rise in hate crimes. Aaron Scheerhoorn was stabbed in the area after being denied safe haven in several bars.

Rick Perry is facing more and more criticism for his participation in "The Response," but his poll numbers are also quickly rising. That doesn't make sense.

On that note, today is my final day as an intern at Equality Texas! Thanks to all of you who've been following the blog, and keep fighting the good fight!

To follow all news updates, visit Equality Texas' Press Room.

Posted by Mason Fitch (mason.fitch@gmail.com)

Thanks for the submission, Blake. 

Blake

Dallas, Texas

This is a story about the power of words and dreams.

Like almost all other LGBTQ teens, I was bullied in school. My story isn't about being shoved or hit, though, and I was never kicked out of the house. I have enormous respect for those who endured that. I'm not sure I could.

Words, not punches, made me hate myself. Words wouldn't let me sleep. Every day, the words I heard made me understand I was unnatural and unwanted.

In 7^th grade, I knew what “faggot” meant. For about three years after that, I was exhausted and irritable all the time. No one wanted to be around me. My own corrosive self-hatred precluded the possibility of having friends. I had internalized “faggot.”

I thought, through all those years, that if I made it to college, if I survived high school, I would meet people who could accept me. They wouldn't have to like me, they wouldn't even have to accept me, but they could. They wouldn't automatically exclude me, demean me, by saying “faggot.”

It turns out that my dystopian vision of high school was wrong. I was happy towards the end of high school, and I made it to the school of my dreams: Stanford. I knew that no school that close to San Francisco could harbor too many gay-haters. I was right.

I came out to my straight roommate on the first night we lived together. I wanted two things from him. I asked him if he was ok with living with me, and I asked him to never say “faggot”. I didn't want to force my ailment on him. I had resented out and proud LGBTQ kids because I didn't believe they could be happy, being the targets of more pointed harassment because everyone knew. I didn't want to make my identity public to anyone except him. He had to interact with me on a daily basis, no one else did. Being gay was my private business, and I didn't want to give other people a reason to hate me.

As it turned out, my straight roommate had spent the summer studying gay rights in the Middle East. He had never said the word faggot in his life. He was more out and proud than I was. More than anyone else, he welcomed me to school. He made me feel like I could reinvent myself from the exhausted, nasty, not-gay person I had been.

The next step was giving a speech. At a vigil for the many LGBTQ teenagers who had killed themselves in 2010, I told the same story I've told you up to this point. How the awful power of words had brought me to the same point as those I spoke to honor. The one difference was that I kept reminding myself how happy I would be at Stanford if I could just hold on. I had a goal, a place where I knew life would get better.

After the vigil, people came to me, crying, thanking me, saying that I must have known their stories, too. I didn't know what to say; part of me had thought that such horrible feelings could only be my own. I had made people happy because I was gay; I made friends because I was gay. Someone even said, “Congratulations on coming out.”

Then I had a boyfriend. He made me happy; happy like I dreamed I would be at Stanford. Happy like I had never been called a faggot. Like the internalized faggot didn't exist.

He also cheated on me. He brought me back to feeling so fatigued I couldn't speak.

Coming out is just the first step. Things undoubtedly get better after high school, but problems don't
disappear after the harassment goes away, and new ones appear in the context of relationships. My dream isn't perfect.

I still take medication for the insomnia that started in 7^th grade. I'm still scared to come out to people. My biggest fear to this day is that someone I love will rebuke me for being gay, and I'm uncomfortable when people don't know I'm gay because that possibility still exists.

Being at Stanford means I made it. I believed that if I could just work my way into Stanford, I would win. I would beat my fear. I would beat all the people who ever said the word “faggot.” I've made it into college, but my journey isn't over. I still have to overcome the part of myself that still resists saying, “I'm gay.” I still have to learn to really enjoy things I like that were once “too gay.” I still have to transcend the part of me that's a faggot.

To share your story, contact Mason at mason.fitch@gmail.com.

We’re chilling the beer and dusting off the turntables for the #YesEqual Manual Brew Down tomorrow night. In the case you missed it on Sprudge, here are some guidelines for the event!

The event is open to the general public and sign up is at 7:15pm with a $5 entry fee to brew.

You bring the coffee of your choice and we will have the following methods available (v60, Woodneck, Chemex, Aeropress). If your preferred method is not on the list feel free to bring your own.

You have 5 minutes to brew at least 10oz of coffee. Judges will be working off the Brewers Cup score sheet.

Grand Prize: Counter Culture Coffee is proud to sponsor the #YesEqual Manual Brew Down! We’d like to offer the overall winner a voucher for the next Counter Intelligence Professional Series coffee education experience held in New York City, or, two full-day Counter Intelligence courses of his or her choice. (value of $495).

We will also be hosting a latte art challenge and benefit raffle where
you can win:

Barismo: Bag of Colombia CoE #1 Arnulfo Leguizamo ($80 value)

Coava: Kone/Chemex & Disk/Aeropress set

Ritual: To-Go and To-Stay mugs

MadCap: T-shirts and coffee

RBC NYC: $10 gift cards

 
My coming out story is not as much about my coming out, as it is being “outed” from a very young age. To give you one idea, my father’s main nickname for me was “Butchie Boy”; this, due to my self-imposed dress code of boy-clothes, as well as my sports ability from a very young age. I found the name rather appealing due to it being male, though I called myself other boy-names such as “Christian” or “Shaun”. This was very upsetting to my mother, and I quickly learned to not speak about my desire to be a boy.

I clearly recall having crushes on girls in the first grade. By the fourth grade, I was parting my hair on the side, and at times secretly shaving my face. I also purchased a wide, boy’s ID bracelet and gave it to my first girlfriend.  By the time I wrote “Kim + Karen” on my school notebook in the fourth grade, my parents took me to a psychiatrist. Though the doctor found no issue with me, I learned to “go underground” on who I was. This “don’t ask, don’t tell” lifestyle is one I maintained for many years.

In junior high and high school, I went through a lot of socialization, including attending a very well known summer camp, centered on learning how to be “a lady.” The rest of the year however, I worked as a water-skier on a ski team at a local marine world. As such, I tended to enjoy the more high-risk activities, including blindfolded ramp jumping, mostly done by boys. Other girls generally opted to do far more graceful and beautiful type “ballet” on water-skis, which I did not care as much about.  Though I was not unhappy per se, largely due to my sports life, I certainly knew I was different.  For that reason, I began drinking a lot in high school, despite being popular with both sexes, and with my teachers.

As I prepared to enter college at the University of Texas, I grew apprehensive due to having to face sorority rush. The only thing I really looked forward to was being on the UT ski team. Though I gained a degree and stayed in the sorority during my four years at UT, I felt I was “failing” in my life. I knew what I was supposed to do – grow up, get married and have kids. Instead, I was an athlete with a reputation for breaking hearts of both sexes. My drinking increased, and by the time I graduated and got a good job, I became depressed.

To make a long story short, in 1986, I quit a very successful job in the advertising business and put myself in a 30-day treatment center. When I got out, I was sober, and determined to help others not face what I had. I began working for The Salvation Army. For five years I did very little but read my Bible, attend AA and face the truth about being gay.  I opted to tell the leadership of The Salvation Army that I was gay, and was moving on to a new role. I became the leader of “The Buddy Project”, which was part of an all-gay nonprofit group supporting those with AIDS.  I will never forget the kindness and love of The Salvation Army, as they prayed with me the day that I left.

I learned a lot in the next year, and found it vital to hold my head up and face the picketing and hatred that became part of what we all faced in the Oak Lawn area of Dallas. As many friends and associates died around me, I continually took action, attending the March on Washington, and other political events. Overall, the 1990’s were not an easy time. Shortly after leaving The Buddy Project, my father died of alcoholism, and I got cancer of the thyroid.  I will never forget the statement of the doctor who removed my cancer. He advised me to never lie, about anything.  I took that statement to heart.

I went on to become a freelance educator on the prevention of alcohol and drug addiction, and became fairly well known. I often spoke at large nonprofit groups and private universities, as I had a special emphasis on helping young people avoid addiction. To make another long story short, a major Christian-based nonprofit group ultimately learned I was gay, and cancelled the taping of several educational videos I was taping for youth. This aborted my income from a major client, and rather confused me on a core level. Basically, I was faced with either telling the truth, or losing my income. In my opinion, no one should be asked to face that dilemma. As a recovering alcoholic in particular, I opted to keep telling the truth, to both ensure my sobriety, and role model what I felt was right, yet it gave me the flag of caution.

In the long haul, I began working for an all-gay treatment center. Interestingly, the Christian program on the hall across from our wing opted to move out, saying that their technicians would not work with our patients. We also faced a few outward, hostile comments. I routinely wore a WWJD (What Would Jesus Do?) bracelet to remind me of who I was and what I stand for, just as my father told me to do.  This offered me comfort, and I managed to better hold on to who I am.

 I went on to attain a masters degree and a few licenses, of which I am proud, yet there are times where I wonder if that has been some form of justification of my mere existence. Either way, it does allow me to work on my own, which I find to be wise, considering that I am unable to gain same-sex health insurance benefits for my partner. Also, if I choose to be honest, my position will not go at risk per se, though I may lose some clients.

Yet what matters most to me is that I coach kids part-time, and I do fundamentally live with “don’t ask don’t tell” while working with young people. Lying to young children is no easy task, for me, as in my opinion, lying as a whole, is no way to live. Also, lying can result in loss of health, as dishonesty is not part of what my recovery philosophy is.

The bottom line is this; I support Equality Texas because I support honesty and integrity for all people. The right to work and the right to live with dignity is a part of all human rights. My name is Kimberly Allen, and writing this this is part of how I hope to support all people. I also want to thank those who have supported me. This includes my partner, my family, my church, and my straight allies. Also, The State of California, whose officials married me and my partner of 16 years.

I particularly appreciate Equality Texas, as I am a proud Texan. I am hopeful that over time, our mutual efforts will result in our state government better recognizing the significance of all Texans. All of us deserve liberty, and the pursuit of the American dream.

If you'd like to submit a story, please email Mason at mason@equalitytexas.org.

"Researchers from Children's Hospital Boston found that one-quarter of gay and lesbian high school students are homeless, and these homeless teens are more likely to be on their own, without the support or supervision of their parents or guardians."  Heartbreaking. [KLTV]

The Williams Institute has issued a report saying that over 27% of LGB employees have faced workplace harassment, and almost 75% of LGB go back into the closet to work.  The stats are even worse for transgender employees, with 78% of them having faced workplace harassment.  Good thing Texas has gender and sexual orientation non-discrimination laws.  Oh, wait... we don't. [Williams Institute]

The Department of Health and Human Services is considering overturning the ridiculous ban on gay men donating blood.  About bloody time! [Bilerico]

The Human Rights Campaign will be roadtripping through Texas in the fall to drum up support for marriage equality in states with constitutional bans.  Welcome to Texas, y'all! [Statesman]

To follow all news updates, visit Equality Texas' Press Room.

Posted by Mason Fitch (mason@equalitytexas.org)

After last week's discovery of an anti-gay, anti-Obama blogpost on the website of the Beeville Bee-Picayune, the Cypress Times has decided to follow suit with an anti-gay rant of their own (and it appears the author is a bit obsessed with ranting against homosexuality). And because this Mr. Don Costello is apparently the most-respected Biblical interpreter, he has this to say:

Homosexuals practiced counterfeit religion in Israel and Judah! And homosexuals practice counterfeit Christianity today!

Letter to the editor, anyone?

President Obama's support of LGBT equality is not only "evolving," but the relevant laws are also in "flux." Because nothing can ever be easy when fighting for equality, apparently.