San Diego Pride is a month away, and members of the GLBT community are contemplating the chosen theme of “Equal Rights: No More, No Less.” Not that people are questioning the depth of the sentiment, but rather the breadth of who falls into the protected group deserving of equal rights.

And it’s not that anyone would dare suggest that a group is undeserving of equal protection. But there are clear undercurrents which may give some groups pause as to whether they are being represented in the discussion, much of which centers around same-sex marriage.

Somehow, though, over a decade after Steve Sailer published his controversial “Why Lesbians Aren’t Gay” article in the National Review, the community still grapples with some of Sailer’s findings – not so much because so many disagree, but because somehow some of the characteristics seem so frighteningly true.

Teresa Loszenski, a student of queer theory, explains Sailer’s delineation.

“When you have someone [like Sailer] bold enough to say that the gay male’s sense of humor is ‘campy, self-deprecating, waspish’ while lesbians tend to have a sense of humor that is ‘satirical and political’, what else do you say but, ‘Well, the guy has a point,’” admits Loszenski. And for Loszenski, these types of humor preferences may be exactly what allows a higher level of lesbian participation in politics.

Sailer also went on to describe gay male tendencies on leadership drive as “low” and lesbian tendencies on leadership drive as “high.” With regards to motivation, Sailer argued that gay males are led by “attention and adoration” while lesbians are driven by “leadership and domination.”

There is no question that when you look at San Diego’s GLBT community, lesbians tend to outnumber gay men in formal leadership roles. San Diego’s two largest community organizations, San Diego LGBT Pride and The Center, have lesbian executive directors, for example.

The three most recognizable members of the GLBT community in San Diego politics are state Senator Christine Kehoe, City Councilmember Toni Atkins and District Attorney Bonnie Dumanis. So then, where are all the gay men in San Diego?

“There is no question that a great number of gay men are in positions of influence in San Diego,” argues Kurt Hemming. “But strangely enough, they aren’t the ones in the spotlight. In San Diego, for whatever reason, a juxtaposition has occurred: gay men are behind-the-scenes advocates, and the lesbians have most of the spotlight.”

It may be, according to Drs. John Gottman and Julie Schwartz Gottman of the Gottman Institute, more intuitive than one might think. In a 12-year study on gay and lesbian couples, the Gottmans identified characteristics of same-sex couples. The findings may help explain the success of lesbian leaders.

“In a fight, lesbians show more anger, humor, excitement and interest than conflicting men,” says John Gottman. “Gay men need to be especially careful to avoid negativity in conflict.”

That is, their studies suggest that lesbians are more emotionally expressive during a conflict or general interaction.

“When it comes to repair,” reports Gottman, “if the initiator in the conflict in a gay relationship becomes too negative, his partner is not able to repair as effectively as lesbian partners.”

While the Gottmans are primarily researchers of relationships among couples, their work seems applicable beyond the “household” family and into the “community” family. The personal relationship characteristics identified by the Gottmans’ work may be one explanation for the success of lesbians in a community that can sometimes be subject to infighting or bickering.

“The Gottmans’ study is interesting,” says Calia Ramirez, a graduate student in sociology. “Many believe it gives insight beyond just the couples studied. Specifically, it may explain the characteristics that lesbians have that help diffuse conflict, such as a greater sense of humor during conflict and the ability to show interest in the other person’s concerns.”

That is not to say, however, that many gay men do not possess these characteristics.

“On the contrary,” argues Ramirez. “The fact is that a great number of gay men have these skills. There is no gender-isolation or monopoly of conflict-resolution skills. That would be a complete disregard for the whole field of sociology. But, as a group, we must find some common characteristics that help us understand how our system has developed. And there is little question that lesbians have more visible positions of political authority – that is, formally established roles of power – than gay men in San Diego. This is just one possible explanation.”

Another explanation is the effect AIDS has had on the gay community, effectively wiping out a whole generation of gay male activists and leaders that would be heading up our organizations and continuing the fight for equality if they were alive today.

For Hemming, politics is different from popular culture.

“Of course you are going to see gay men in the media,” says Hemming. “The Fab Five [from “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy”], Jack O’Brien of the Old Globe and Jim Jay Bullock are all larger-than-life representations of what America thinks gay men are: sexy, smart, creative, well-groomed and funny.”

But they have also become characters in and of themselves, argues Hemming. Once a gay man comes out, and is celebrated in the media – like Elton John or Isaac Mizhrahi – he becomes this caricature.

On the other hand, lesbians tend to be more low-key – less in-your-face, so to speak. And, with minor exceptions (Rosie O’Donnell and Ellen DeGeneres, for example) tend to keep lower profiles than their gay male counter-parts. This may be exactly what makes them better equipped to take on the often all-too-political leadership roles.

Both The Center’s Chief Executive Officer Delores Jacobs and San Diego Pride’s Executive Director Suanne Pauley are masters in low-key, nose-to-the-grindstone, results-driven success.

“For whatever reason, the lesbians in San Diego are often less divisive when in leadership roles,” argues Mathew Pickering of University Heights. “Plus, there is no denying that your average American is less threatened by a lesbian than they are by a gay man. Somehow, hearing Tammy Baldwin [D-Wisconsin] argue for gay rights doesn’t seem to rankle Springfield quite like seeing [U.S. Rep.] Barney Frank [D-Massachusetts] do it.”

Recently, there has been much attention paid to the use of the term “civil rights” as it applies to GLBT issues. In a recent series of point-counterpoint press releases, the King family (as in Martin Luther King, Jr.) issued statements both condemning and affirming the right of gays and lesbians to compare the same-sex marriage plight to that of the African-American civil rights movement for which Dr. King literally gave his life fighting for.

Corretta Scott King, a longtime supporter of gay rights, invoked her husband’s teachings as it applies to tolerance and equality for homosexuals. “Gay and lesbian people have families, and their families should have legal protection, whether by marriage or civil union,” King said in her March 23, 2004, college address. “A constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage is a form of gay-bashing; it would do nothing at all to protect traditional marriages.”

King’s youngest child, the Rev. Bernice King, lit a torch at her father’s tomb in December 2004 to kick off a march advocating a ban on same-sex marriage. King’s niece, Alveda C. King, founder of the faith-based King for America, Inc., is also a vocal opponent of same-sex marriage.

In an interview earlier this year, Alveda King made the most striking statement to date when she said, “Bernice says herself that she knows deep within that her father did not march, and did not take a bullet for same-sex marriage.”

By contrast, Dr. King’s namesake, Martin Luther King III, marched along with his mother.

Estimates of the nation’s African-American gay and lesbian population vary, with numbers ranging from 2 to 3 million, according to most analyses of the 2000 U.S. Census and other data.

In 2003, thousands of Americans journeyed to the nation’s capital to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the March on Washington led by Dr. King. The organizers desperately searched for a speaker from the GLBT community.

The history runs deep. In 1983, on the 20th anniversary, black gay activists had to lobby march organizers to allow black lesbian author Audre Lorde to address the crowd – in contrast to the original march which was organized by Bayard Rustin, a gay man who was one of King’s close advisors.

In 1993, Phill Wilson of the Black Gay and Lesbian Leadership Forum spoke, as reports surfaced about the difficulties of the organization finding a speaker for the 40th anniversary. Word began to leak that the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force’s Matt Forman, an openly gay white man, would be the speaker.

Later that year, after 15 years of advocating on behalf of gay African-Americans, the National Black Lesbian and Gay Leadership Forum closed its doors. Keith Boykin, who served as executive director from 1995 to 1998, speaks his mind on the closure.

“Unfortunately, the closing of the Forum couldn’t come at a more challenging time for blacks gays and lesbians,” says Boykin. “Black support for gay civil rights has tumbled in the past few months. AIDS continues to plague the community. Hate crimes from Morehouse College to Newark, New Jersey have been profiled in the news. Gay issues are front and center in the national dialogue, and there’s no one black to represent the diversity of the LGBT community.”

It was warm and muggy, as Kansas tends to be in May, but protesters outside the courthouse were still lined around the block to show their opposition to a case regarding marriage and gender.

“The religious right was there in en masse,” said Caroline Faulkner of San Diego, who went to Topeka to show her support. “What I didn’t understand was where the hell were the gays and lesbians? Didn’t they understand that the entire marriage issue could be decided in this single court case? I mean this was, after all, about how to define gender.”

Interestingly, this was not a case about a gay couple or a lesbian couple seeking the same legal protections afforded their heterosexual neighbors.

Strikingly absent were the gays and lesbians who are typically present in support of their brothers and sisters in this ongoing social, religious and political battle. After all, the case was not, on the surface, about same-sex marriage. Rather, it was about whether a male-to-female transgender, J’Noel Gardiner’s marriage to Marshall Gardiner was legal. Originally, the Leavenworth County District Court had ruled in 1998 that the marriage was invalid because J’Noel was once a man. District Judge Gunman Sundby ruled that J’Noel remained a man, despite the surgery.

The state Court of Appeals, under Judge Robert Gernon, wrote in their decision, “We can no longer be permitted to conclude who is female by the amount of facial hair one has or the size of one’s feet.” Kansas, which has a long history of civil rights, including the landmark Brown v. Board of Education, may have set a precedent.

As far as Faulkner is concerned, though, it was a precedent set in a vacuum.

“Leaders in the gay and lesbian community are scared to embrace the transgendered element,” argues Faulkner. “Even ENDA [the federal Employment Non-Discrimination Act] doesn’t mention transgendered individuals.”

As for the Kansas court ruling, the unanimous three-judge pane concluded that in determining whether a marriage is valid, the determination must be made on whether a person is male or female at the time of the marriage, not at the time of birth.

In fact, the court had a tightrope to walk. If they chose to recognize the marriage as legal, then they would be setting legal precedent in one of two ways: first, that gender is defined by scientific anatomy, or, more specifically, by whatever genitals the individual possesses at the time of the marriage, hence affirming that God’s choice can be altered by man and that this alteration should be upheld legally; and second, that other courts in states who do not recognize the reassigned gender as the legal gender would have to recognize same-sex marriages, because in their eyes it was two men being granted the right to marry.

The Kansas ruling ran counter to a decision made by the Texas Court of Appeals in 1999 when it considered the case of a transsexual woman who wanted to sue for the wrongful death of her husband. The Texas court declared her female anatomy “man-made,” and said it was up to the Legislature to legalize marriages involving transsexuals. The U.S. Supreme Court has declined to hear appeals, allowing both cases to stand.

While gay and lesbian activists quietly sat back watching to see the outcome, transgender rights activists were out in force. And is it any surprise that the transgender community would be at the forefront of gay and lesbian civil rights?

New York’s Stonewall Rebellion. Melbourne’s Tasty Bust and subsequent legal victories. Internationally speaking, it is far more likely for a transgender person to be granted asylum in certain countries than for a gay or lesbian individual.

On the other hand, it was not until 1998 that San Diego finally did away with its law making cross-dressing illegal; specifically, dressing as the opposite sex with the intention to deceive. And, frankly, most transgender rights activists have argued that it wasn’t exactly due to the help of their gay and lesbian brothers and sisters.

“I found it extremely ironic that we had a huge celebration at Pride that year over the city’s removal of [Municipal] Code 56.19,” says Charley Lindham, a female-to-male transgender. “Everyone cheered and partied the victory, but who was really there for the battle?”

That is not to discount the presence of some prominent gays and lesbians in the San Diego community coming forward to push the City Council into the modern era.

“There is no way that we could have won this battle without the efforts of everyone in the GLBT community,” says Francine Burrows, a transgender male-to-female of La Mesa. “But today we have an even bigger battle – the battle for all relationships to be afforded the same legal, political and social recognition.”

While the Kansas and Texas rulings don’t seem to have affected the same-sex marriage dialogue as intensely as one might have thought, Burrows argues that it is the moral obligation of every group within the GLBT community to put forth as many positive faces as possible to help procure these rights.

“It is so hard to sleep at night knowing that some day I might fall in love with a man and be denied marriage,” says Burrows. “I would rather turn that energy that I spend fighting those fears fighting those who have put those fears in my heart.”

Burrows’ fears may not be too far from being realized. Last year, the San Jose Mercury News told the story of a Bay Area disc jockey known as “Weird Old Uncle Frank,” who is a post-operative female-to-male transgender. However, at the time “Fran” Bennet, as she is now known, was married and was a biological male. Still married to a biological woman, Bennet has expressed concerns that his marriage will be invalidated if the courts intervene.

But for some in the GLBT community, fears of including transgender persons into the conversation can be uncomfortable.

“While we try to move GLBT civil rights forward, we sometimes flinch at mentioning the bisexuals and transgendered populations,” admits Kevin Mendoza of La Jolla. “I think we are afraid that including them in the language and images of our battles will offend some already-reluctant allies. It’s our own internalized phobia.”

Mendoza recalls hosting an event for a national gay rights leader at his home several years ago. “When I was told that the Imperial Court was going to come in and arrange things and cater the event, I was mortified,” he says. “What would my neighbors say?”

Mendoza, who has lived with his partner for 12 years in the same house in La Jolla, wasn’t sure what the reaction would be. However, the only person who ended up uncomfortable with the idea appeared to be Mendoza himself.

“I have never been more ashamed in all my life,” says Mendoza. “Not that I was outwardly hostile or anything like that, but it’s unlikely those setting up could not help but notice my apprehension.”

Since then, Mendoza has gone on to support a large number of events sponsored by the Imperial Court – but not out of shame or expiation. Rather, it is out of the newly found respect for the service to the GLBT community that members of the Imperial Court – and the transsexual and transgender community at large – provide.

And if there is one thing the Stonewall Rebellion taught us, argues Burrows, it’s how much the oppressions that led to the courageous revolt overlapped the gay and transgender communities.

Oftentimes, a divergent set of interests is blamed on a growing divide between groups within the GLBT community. Duane Wells, author of R-E-S-P-E-C-T: A Lesson in Unconditional Love, gives a reality check.

“First of all, let’s just say it means that our reality check must start with the recognition that we must celebrate our differences rather than allow them to divide us,” argues Wells. “Some of us will love opera, while others of us will love heavy metal.”

As Wells points out, though, there’s usually big hair in both.

“The fact of the matter is that there are shades of gay, just like there are shades of gray and black and brown,” says Wells. “We are all individuals, first and foremost, and should be respected as such – not put down because they do not subscribe to this or that stereotypical behavior. We should instead embrace them and their point of views. The oppressed must ever wary of becoming the oppressor, no?”

One area of concern for Wells, as well as countless other sociologists and community activists alike, is the simple diversity of hobbies within the GLBT community. Wells, who only agreed to learn golf – a sport he originally detested – because a boyfriend enjoyed the game, came to appreciate the expansion of his own horizons.

“Our reality check must include getting a grip on the notion that superficial differences in things like hobbies and interests do not in and of themselves mean the death knell of a relationship,” Wells says. “Quite the contrary: Differences can be the building blocks of a relationship, the key to growth… and can expand one’s own horizon.

Which can be the cornerstone for understanding a broad community, says Dr. Betsy Morris of Mission Hills, who holds a Ph.D. in organizational behavior.

“Cross-pollination in interests and personal hobbies can build relationships that translate into social and political unity,” explains Morris. “Exit polls from the last presidential election indicated that … one in five self-identified gays and lesbians voted for Bush.”

Specifically, according to The Associated Press’ National Election Poll exit polls in Florida, Pennsylvania, and Ohio, 4 percent of voters self-identified as gay, lesbian or bisexual. Of those, 78 percent voted for John Kerry, while 21 percent voted for Bush. CNN polls indicated 77 percent for Kerry and 23 percent for Bush.

First there was the sensitive male, who on the whole turned out to be a good listener because he really was gay. Then there was the metrosexual, a term coined specifically for European soccer giant David Beckham in an ESPN article. Now there is the “gay feminist” emerging.

Some might argue that the emergence of the gay male as a staunch supporter of the feminist movement is more a “retrosexual gay male” role than a new one. The promotion of the gay male identity’s link to feminism is, indeed, not a new one. By distinguishing between sex (the biological differences between male and female) and gender (the social, psychological and cultural difference ascribed to male and female roles), sociologists and psychologists have tried to bring the “threat” of male homosexuality down in middle America.

“This construct became particularly key in the 1990s,” explains Morris, “when the media was trying to contain the growing AIDS-inspired fear of homosexuality. The idea was that by presenting a more feminine side to gay men that included nurturing, etc., the construct of ‘predator’ would be lessened.”

Unfortunately, though, Morris argues that gay men as feminists resulted in a backlash in the GLBT community by lesbians.

“You really began to see lesbians move away – not shy away, but full-on move away – from any gay identity,” explains Morris. “The ’90s were the height of the ‘womyns’ movement, of the emphasis of ‘lesbian’ as its own identity. Studies have also shown that it was in the ’90s that most organizations began putting the ‘L’ before the ‘G’ in ‘LGBT.’”

Many argue that the vital role of the gay male in the feminist movement, equating homophobia with oppression of women, is a complete misnomer. For example, Pickering cannot help but point out the influence of gay men on the fashion industry, long held to be the antithesis of feminism.

“More and more of my friends are adopting,” says Antonio Sanchez of Hillcrest. “More and more, one of the two guys is working at home while raising the kids. That means PTA meetings, carpooling, getting the kids to soccer practice on time, and landing the new account for work, all before 6:30 p.m. homework, baths, bedtime stories and goodnight kisses.”

“War is an interesting phenomenon when it comes to the social fabric and workplace issues,” explains Samantha Golding, a graduate student in gender studies. “During World War II, there simply was not enough labor force left in the country to support the war efforts without turning to women; hence the icon, ‘Rosie the Riveter.’ It was a great time for women’s independence. Wouldn’t it be the greatest irony if people finally woke up and decided we should let gays and lesbians have families since we sent all our men off to war? What a legacy that would be for [President George W.] Bush.”

While Golding may be presenting a hyperbolic scenario, there is no question that gay men are having a greater influence on American culture than ever before. The image of the gay male being a predator or cross-dresser is slowly being replaced by images of dads raising kids, of responsible gay men leading corporations, of capable members on the front lines.

Further, many gay male feminists believe that masculinity is strongly shaped by homophobia, the widespread fear of and contempt for homosexual people. Gay men, and men in general, tend to find their emotional, social, sexual and familial lives limited by the fear of being perceived as “gay,” a negative by comparison to a “straight-acting” male persona.

Other men who identify with the feminist movement prefer the term “pro-feminist” rather than “feminist.”

“There is no way for men to understand what feminism is,” says Ramirez. “It was a movement by, for and about women. Rather, there is a way in which men, especially gay men, can understand some of the political and social oppression women have endured based on their lack of ‘masculine’ traits.”

Gay men, in large part, can come to understand feminism – and become pro-feminist –because of their distance from traditional societal traits of masculinity such as fatherhood, the military, and the refusal to ask directions when lost, argues Ramirez.

The goal of pro-feminists men is to bring about gender justice and gender equity. But for most pro-feminists, avers Ramirez, the fight is not along the traditional lines of promoting the rights of women. Instead, it is about minimalizing societal restrictions on men and women alike; on gender oppressions in general.

The recent explosion of the “metrosexual” is allowing many men to relax, says Golding, so that they are no longer considered effeminate for having a manicure or enjoying a piece of classical opera.

And, as Jerry Seinfeld would say, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that…”

Mayor Gavin Newsom is no stranger to the gay community. He has been at the center of the same-sex marriage debate since February 2004, when he opened San Francisco City Hall’s doors to same-sex couples for purposes of registering as married couples.

Judy Shepherd continues her battle for social justice and hate crimes legislation as she fights in honor of the tragic death of her son, Mathew Shepherd, who was left beaten and dead in Laramie, Wyo., in October, 1998. Her primary mission is to spread the message that hate is a learned characteristic.

Judy Shepherd, who founded the Mathew Shepherd Foundation, takes her very personal tragedy on the road, and continues to advocate on behalf of young GLBTQ youth. The ground-breaking play The Laramie Project, and subsequent film, has become part of any GLBT issues or hate crimes course work.

Gay icons Barbra Streisand, Bette Midler and Cher are also outspoken proponents for GLBT rights. Steven Spielberg was among the first to return his Eagle Scout badge and resign from the Boy Scouts’ board of directors in protest of their anti-gay policy.

“One of the things that concerns me the most,” says Morris, “is that so often those leading the charge for gay and lesbian rights are straight. Not that I would want our allies to abandon their efforts, but I think they deserve more support from those for whom they wage the battle. The fact is that if for every straight ally who spoke on our behalf we offered up a gay and lesbian of equal courage to stand beside them, we would have such an overwhelming diversity of images for America to see: moms, dads, foster parents, brothers, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, teachers, doctors, even your local mail carrier.”

According to the 2000 census, there are 601,209 same-sex, unmarried partner households, which represents a 314-percent increase over the 145,130 same-sex, unmarried partner households reported in the 1990 census. Same-sex, unmarried couples reported in 99.3 percent of all counties in the United States, leaving only 22 counties in the entire country reporting no same-sex couples.

“Would it be so hard then,” asks Morris, “to find someone in your neighborhood to stand up for GLBT rights?”

Queer studies student Loszenski lays out five primary starting points to building the kind of unity that has the strength to demand “Equal Rights: No More, No Less.”

“First and foremost, we must come out and identify ourselves publicly,” explains Loszenski. “And I don’t just mean come out to our families as GLBT individuals. We must come out to ourselves and to our workplaces. We have to be able to come out to other members in the GLBT community.”

Far too often, Loszenski says, gay men hang with gay men, lesbians with lesbians, transgenders with other transgenders, and bisexuals with other bisexuals.

Faulkner understands. “It is just as hard for me, and in fact, harder if I were being honest, to come out to gays and lesbians,” suggests Faulkner. “The reason is because once I do, I am barraged with questions about it as a scientific matter or a social issue. What they fail to see is me as a person.”

Secondly, says Loszenski, we have to lose the victim mentality and build support networks and cultures that affirm us.

“There is no way around the old maxim that in order for other people to love you, you must love yourself,” argues Loszenski. “It may sound cheesy, but sometimes there is a reason that a sentiment has survived hundreds of generations.”

Thirdly, we must redefine our identity and articulate our community in a loving way.

“‘Family values’ is a really hard thing for people to argue when you have two loving parents at every PTA meeting, open house and soccer game,” says Loosens. “And for those who continue to live on the ‘down low,’ for those who call each other ‘fags’ and ‘dykes,’ we should take a look at our inner selves. As an African-American, I understand why some in my culture call each other ‘niggers,’ but I could never do that. It is so disempowering to the casual passerby, and it simply affirms their usage of the term. It is the same way with ‘sissy’ or ‘nelly.’ When negative and derogatory language is allowed in our everyday conversation, it is seen as acceptable by those on the outside.”

Fourth, argues Loszenski, we must mobilize our time, talent and treasures.

“If the lesbians are great at political networking, and the gay men can fundraise, and the bisexuals and transgendered can understand a wide range of disenfranchised members of society, then why would we not capitalize on these?” asks Loszenski.

Finally, Loszenski says the GLBT community must assert itself politically – unified.

In a time of increasing pressure on the GLBT community from local, state and national fronts, members of all subgroups within the community must band together, avers Scott Jenkins, a local activist fighting against the proposed federal ban on same-sex marriage.

“This is not about creating a system that protects the sanctity of family,” argues Jenkins of North Park, “this is about creating a system that divides family. The only way that we are going to defeat this movement – a movement that cost 11 states and millions of people the right to marriage in the last general election – is to come together.”

For Jenkins, then, there is no gay man or lesbian woman, no bisexual or questioning person, no transgender identity – there are only citizens of one country under attack.

“Let’s face it,” says Jenkins, “if every member of the GLBT community told five people they knew how vital equal rights are to them and their families, really reached out to those who will listen, I don’t even think there would be a debate.”

In years past, there has been a constant segmentation of the GLBT community: gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, cross-dresser, questioning, queer youth. Frankly, says Hemming, all the “Qs” end up meaning one thing: quagmire.

Like it or not, though we may dominate pop culture, gays are still a minority,” says Wells. “We may be an increasingly powerful minority, but we are still a minority nonetheless. Our chances of success are enhanced by unity rather than disunity.”

Without a unified force in the battle against bigotry, says Morris, no possible progress has ever been made. Any contrariness of tendencies, dissimilarities of perceptions on social or psychological issues and blanket assertions about a group must be understood to exist, accepted as existing, and then respectfully set aside while we fight for a common good, says Morris.

“We look to King and Gandhi as agents of change,” explains Morris. “But they were merely the faces of a movement. It took the courage of millions of African-Americans and Indians to pressure governments in order for change to occur. Who is the face of our movement? But more importantly, where are the millions of courageous grass-roots advocates pressuring on a unified front?”