In Memoriam

An 86-year-old retired congressman from Massachusetts died last Tuesday at his home in Maine. He had congestive heart failure and had been on hospice care since April. He had many legislative accomplishments to his name, serving in Congress from 1981 until his retirement in 2013. He is perhaps best remembered for his role in crafting the Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act following the 2008 financial crisis, as well as being a fixture of congressional debate and Sunday political talk shows, where admirers praised his command of policy and his defense of civil liberties, while critics challenged his outspoken and unabashed liberalism. Known for his sharp humor, rapid-fire intellect, and willingness to engage opponents directly, he remained a central figure in debates over economic regulation, social justice, and the role of government for his three decades of public service.

I live in California. It is, literally, the other side of the country. Why do I know of or even care about some congressman from Massachusetts, especially one that has been retired for thirteen years? Because he was gay.

In 1987, he became the first member of Congress to voluntarily come out as gay, a brave and courageous decision that carried profound political and cultural and emotional significance coming as it did during the height of the AIDS crisis and its attendant homophobia. In 2012, he became the first sitting member of Congress to enter a same-sex marriage when he married his longtime partner, Jim Ready. As chairman of the House Financial Services Committee I am certain he crafted many of the protections and regulations we as consumers rely on to keep us safe from predatory and unscrupulous businesses, but just the simple fact that he was gay, said he was gay, and served this country honorably as a gay man, a gay American, is his single-most noteworthy act.

And not because “gay rights” was his focus. It wasn’t. He was an outspoken advocate for the rights and dignity of his LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters to be sure, but in a way that said “we’re not all hairdressers and flight attendants.” Moreover, with his life and work as a congressman, he showed that LGBTQ+ interests are the same interests affecting our heterosexual counterparts; we don’t all wake up every morning waving rainbow flags and pursuing some kind of “gay agenda” that benefits only us – our concerns are your concerns, they are American concerns.

Barney Frank was the best of what the LGBTQ+ community is. A patriot. A selfless civil servant. Bright, funny, and formidable, he brings to mind another star in the gay constellation, Harvey Milk, who explained in what is known as “The Hope Speech” why it is important, indeed essential, to elect gay leaders like Congressman Frank:

You see there is a major difference – and it remains a vital difference – between a friend and a gay person, a friend in office and a gay person in office. Gay people have been slandered nationwide. We’ve been tarred and we’ve been brushed with the picture of pornography. In Dade County, we were accused of child molestation. It’s not enough anymore just to have friends represent us. No matter how good that friend may be.

The black community made up its mind to that a long time ago. That the myths against blacks can only be dispelled by electing black leaders, so the black community could be judged by the leaders and not by the myths or black criminals. The Spanish community must not be judged by Latin criminals or myths. The Asian community must not be judged by Asian criminals or myths. The Italian community must not be judged by the mafia, myths. And the time has come when the gay community must not be judged by our criminals and myths.

The mere presence of an openly gay, non-scandal-ridden, effective, and visible member of congress was a shot across the bow of the bigots and homophobes who want to define the LGBTQ+ community by its negatives. Any human community, gathered around any organizing principle, will have negatives. Larry Nassar was a team doctor for women’s gymnastics who committed horrible crimes of sexual assault against young people; but we don’t judge doctors based on Larry Nassar, because we can point to many thousands of others who are not sex offenders.

What Harvey Milk is saying is that the LGBTQ+ community should not be judged exclusively by its bad apples, of which it has to be said there are some, but by its good apples, of which there are many. And Barney Frank was one of the good ones. His greatest contribution was to simply be Barney Frank.

Of course, we grieve with the husband he left behind and his family members and friends. But at this time when our community is under attack through efforts to roll back hard-won advances in civil rights and social justice, we need our Barney Franks (and our Pete Buttigiegs and our Jared Polis-s and our Tammy Baldwins and…) to stand up and stand out, so that we as Ls and Gs and Bs and Ts and Qs and all the other letters in our rainbow community show who we are and refuse to be defined by the bigotry and hatred of a small-minded MAGA cabal in power at the moment.

May Barney Frank rest in peace, and may his memory be a blessing to us all, and a call to every one of us in the LGBTQ+ community to be our best selves, whether the spotlight falls on us or we exist behind the scenes in anonymity. If you’re a doctor, be the best doctor you can be, who happens to be gay. Garbage collector, the same – be the best gay garbage collector your neighborhood has ever known. Live with pride, and dignity, and purpose. We are all ambassadors for our community.