Farewell, Barney

by Bob Henline in The Straight Line | 0 comments

Farewell, and thank you.

On Nov. 28, 2011, Congressman Barney Frank (D-Mass) announced his retirement at the end of his current term, ending his 32-year career in the United States Congress. Since coming out in 1987, Frank has commonly been regarded as one of the most prominent gay politicians in America.

For more than 30 years, Frank has been one of the most ardent defenders of civil liberties, sponsoring countless bills in support of civil rights. In 1998, he founded the National Stonewall Democrats, which has an active caucus in Utah. He has earned 100 percent ratings from both the Pro-Choice America movement and the Human Rights Campaign.

Frank has repeatedly sponsored and supported legislation to promote the cause of equality in America, from providing benefits to domestic partners of federal employees to the Equal Rights Amendment. He was instrumental in removing sexual orientation as a reason to be denied legal immigration to the United States in 1990.

The list of Frank’s accomplishments is much larger than the space I have for this column, so I’m going to leave the rest of the biography and end this with a personal memory. I had the opportunity to meet him in 1989. I was an undergraduate at Boston University; he was a member of Congress and was invited to one of my political science courses as a guest lecturer.

At the time, Frank was the only openly gay member of Congress, and he had taken a beating in the press over his announcement. He was also in the midst of being reprimanded by Congress for his involvement with a male prostitute. The House Ethics Committee, at Frank’s request, investigated his relationship and found no evidence of wrongdoing except that Frank had used his office to “fix” some parking tickets. The House eventually voted, nearly unanimously, to reprimand him over the parking tickets.

Frank spoke to us openly about his service in the Boston mayor’s office, the Massachusetts House of Representatives and Congress. He spoke about the time in the not-so-distant future when sexual orientation wouldn’t preclude a person from service or even be so much as a blip on the local news radar. He spoke with passion about the importance of equality for all people, regardless of race, gender, religion, gender identity, sexual orientation or socio-economic status.

Growing up a middle-class, straight white kid in suburban Utah didn’t really prepare me for the struggles that are faced by women, people of color, the LGBTQ community or the poor. Moving to Boston opened my eyes to a different world, a world where discrimination, bigotry and ignorance were far more prevalent than they were in the sheltered world of my childhood. I learned a great deal from that experience, beyond the book-learning of a college education. And I learned a lot from that one afternoon with Frank.

As I read back on this, it almost seems like a eulogy, which it fortunately isn’t. Frank is still alive and kicking, and I have no doubt that he will continue to be a powerful force for equality in our nation. People like him don’t just go quietly into that good night. We will, however, miss his voice in the halls of Congress.

To Rep. Frank: Farewell sir. We thank you.