Sans Fig Leaf

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"Make our garden grow"

8 June, 2001

Planting the First Seeds

At a Los Angeles party in 1948, Harry Hay conceived of a homosexual political organization. A radical labor activist and writer, Hay wanted to call the group "Bachelors for Wallace" (Henry Wallace was campaigning for the office of U.S. President at the time). Hay felt that it was time for homosexual men and women to fight the legalized oppression of their relationships. Unfortunately, he had trouble convincing any of his friends or acquaintences to join him.. "I couldn't find one recruit who would stand with me against the heterosexist outside, so great was the terror because we were surrounded by stool pigeons. Not just cops, but blackmailers who would turn you in for five-hundred bucks. Oh, we lived through hell in that period."

In November 1950, he finally found five other people who agreed that some group needed to take action. Hay was joined by Rudi Gernreich, Robert Hull, Chuck Rowland, and Dale Jennings to create the Mattachine Society, an "organization devoted to the protection and improvement of Society's Androgynous Minority."

They based the name on a French Renaissance musical masque group called the Société Mattachine (whose name derived from an arabic phrase meaning "to put on a mask"). Their premise was that society, through custom and the force of law, forced people who were attracted to and fell in love with members of their own gender to hide their true identies.

The organization grew slowly, at first. It was organized as a secret society, where members only knew the true identies of other members in their own, local group. In 1952 the achieved their first legal victory, when founder Dale Jennings was tried to make a date with an undercover policeman. With the group chipping in to hire a good legal team, Jennings took the unusual route of demanding a jury trial (the vast majority of people arrested under such charges would plea bargain to avoid publicity), which he won. His became the first case in California history in which a jury recognized such entrapment for what it was.

Before they could build much on the first success, they fell victim to the anti-communist hysteria of the time. Since they operated secretly they were an easy target for accusations that "communist sexual deviants" were banding together to overthrowth the government. The more moderate members of the Mattachine Society voted out it's decided leftist-leaning officers and adopted a slightly less secretive structure in 1953. The new leadership founded ONE Publishing, Inc, and began publishing ONE Magazine, to push the organizations new mission of seeking "a peaceful assimilation of homosexuals into mainstream society." By 1955 the circulation for ONE Magazine was up to 5000 under the leadership of Editor-in-Chief (and Board President), Ann Reid.

Variety in the Garden

I want take a brief side-trip into the topic of men vs. women. In many books and articles I've read about these earlier years of gay/lesbian activism, it has been reported that the Mattachine Society was organized by and for gay white men, and that, until the formation of the Daughters of Bilitis in San Francisco in 1955, lesbian rights had been, at best, an afterthought.

However, two of the leaders of the "moderate" faction that took over and reorganized the Mattachine Society in 1953 were Marilyn Reiger (President of the Oakland chapter of Mattachine), and Pearl Hart (founder of the Chicago chapter and its President for nearly ten years). Throughout the fifties, more than half the editorial board of ONE Magazine was female.

It is true that many of men in the Mattachine were very chauvinistic. It's also true that no people of color were elected to leadership in chapters of the Mattachine Society (so far as I've been able to find out), until 1964. The Mattachine Society's rather narrow focus on the decriminilization of sexual orientation limited its appeal. Other organizations, including the Daughters of Bilitis, wanted to also tackle issues of gender equality, class equality, and racial equality. While there was increasing divisiveness as more organizations formed in the late fifties and early sixties, the divide was more often along political or economic lines rather than gender.

Into the Sunlight

By the sixties most of the elected leaders of the various gay and lesbian organizations used pseudonyms in publications and at public appearances. Since admitting to willingly being in a homosexual relationship could get one sent to prison for life in many places, this had seemed a simple act of prudence. There were some younger members of the movement who thought it was time to go public.

One of these was Dick Leitsch. Leitsch became Vice President of the New York City chapter of the Mattachine Society in 1964. Leitsch believed in the political process. His parents had been among the first whites to join the NAACP years before, and he had seen that organization use publicity and the legal system to confront racial inequality under the law. Leitsch was one of the first leaders of the gay rights movement to use his real name when speaking to the press or issuing statements.

In 1966 it was illegal in New York for any business with a liquor license to knowingly serve three or more homosexuals. Leitsch recognized that this was a clear violation of the constitutional right to assemble peaceably. He organized a "sip-in" and invited the press along. He and a group of friends walked into a bar, announced that they were homosexuals, and asked to order a round of drinks. The first bartender shrugged, said, "I don't care if your chimpanzees. If you pay your tab and don't cause trouble, you can be served."

It took tromping to two more bars before they finally got a bartender to refuse to serve them. Leitsch then announced to everyone in the bar that the Mattachine Society and the ACLU were going to sue the bar for denying the constitutional right to assemble. He also explained that they intended to pay the legal bills of the bar, because the true problem was the New York Liquor Authority's rules.

Before they could even file the lawsuit, the Liquor Authority caved in. Under advise from their attorney that they didn't stand a chance in court, the Authority removed the rule against allow homosexuals to meet in bars and restaurants. Inspired by Leitsch's success, groups in several other states tried the same tactic. In 1967 the New Jersey Supreme Court ruled that that state's similar rule was a violation of the U.S. Constitution. Many other states followed suit.

Leitsch's next target was police entrapment. Gay entrapment had been going on for years in most cities. It worked like this: Vice cops,* the handsomer the better, dressed as real people frequented public places where gay men were believed to meet. When an unsuspecting patron propositioned the cop, the two men would leave the bar or restaraunt. Outside, the badge would flash and the patron would be arrested. The victim would usually plead guilty and pay a fine, all the while praying for as little publicity as possible. Many victims lost their jobs, broke up with their families, or faced eviction. The Mattachine Society offered to pay the legal bills of anyone in such a case who would plead not-guilty.

In almost every case that the suspect claimed innocent, the charges were thrown out of court during the preliminary hearings. The judges grew weary of hearing the same officers tell the same unconvincing story over and over, and began to put pressure on the prosecuting attorneys not to bog down the court with these bogus charges.

But the entrapment program was supported by leaders in the police department and the mayor, so the cases continued. John V. Lindsay, a liberal Republican, became mayor in 1967. Shortly after taking office, he held a series of town meetings to hear greivances. At the very first meeting, Dick Leitsch brought up the topic of entrapment. Mayor Lindsay seemed sympathetic. The police commissioner, sitting on stage near the mayor, claimed that the practice had been discontinued recently.

The very next day one of those handsome vice cops was at it again. Unfortunately for the cop, an Episcopal minister** who happened to have been at the town meeting the night before witnessed the entire incident. The was eating a sandwich in a cafe when he saw a handsome man aggressively flirting with another man, and then when the second man returned the advanced, out came the badge. The minister believed that the officer had gone way beyond entrapment -- the cop's  aggressive flirting was downright coercive. The minister began calling his friends and the mayor's office was flooded with phone calls from clergy from all over town. Mayor Lindsay took steps to end that particular form of entrapment right away.

Leitsch and the New York Mattachines achieved several more successes between 1967 and 1969, working with the city government to change many of the policies that discriminated against gays and lesbians. They laid the groundwork for much that was to come later, just as Harry Hay, Dale Jennings, Pearl Hart, and Ann Reid had laid groundwork for Leitsch and his contemporaries. But a storm was brewing, and many of the pioneers were about to be swept up or swept aside my a new kind of activism.

For a moment, I would like to linger here in this metaphorical garden, as it was after those early pioneers had won their first battles. Please join me in raising a glass to all of those brave souls who risked everything just by standing up for themselves.

*It wasn't always a police officer doing the entrapment. One particularly disturbing series of cases in another city involved a cop's teen-aged son (who bore a strong resemblance to James Dean) being the bait. The teen-ager hung out in public restrooms, flashing his genitals at men and making flirtatious overtures while his father waited in a nearby stall with a camera for any man to return the interest.

**I have found this mimister mentioned in several books and articles, but none of them identify him by name. If anyone knows who this guy was, I'd love to add his name to the essay.