Capitol Gains for Gay Pols

Making history can be uncomfortable, and so it was for Sheila Kuehl.

As California’s first openly gay legislator, she weathered the scorn of conservative colleagues who publicly denounced her “unnatural” lifestyle and killed many of her early bills.

Conservatives here still quote Scripture to condemn gays as sinners, but Kuehl has company now. Three other lesbians have joined her in the Legislature, and their ideas are steadily finding their way into law.

Seven years after Kuehl’s arrival in Sacramento, gay Californians enjoy growing prominence in all corners of political life. They are city council members, state university trustees, park commissioners and trusted advisors to the governor.

This rising profile carries muscle, and it is paying off with ever-expanding rights and legal protections for gay men and lesbians.

The most recent evidence surfaced in October, when Gov. Gray Davis--a famously cautious politician--signed a bill bestowing a bundle of new benefits on gays who register as domestic partners with the state. He even hosted a rare signing ceremony for the bill’s backers and said it was “about time” that California embraced such a law.

The adoption of AB 25 is seen by homosexuals as a landmark moment, vaulting the state to the forefront of the movement to grant same-sex couples legal recognition and rights. Only Vermont, where gays may enter “civil unions” that resemble marriage, does more.

David Mixner, a Los Angeles writer and powerful fund-raiser for Democrats supportive of gay causes, said the governor’s signature proves that “the struggles of the last few decades are finally starting to pay off. . . . We are drawing ever closer to full equality.”

Less than two years ago, such a comment might have seemed remarkable. In March 2000, Californians went to the polls and heartily endorsed a ballot measure reserving marriage for heterosexuals.

The success of Proposition 22--mirroring the fate of similar measures in 34 other states--was demoralizing for California gays. As far as they had advanced in the march toward social acceptance, they now were officially denied access to an institution that many consider key to full equality.

“It was painful, because nothing separates [gays and straights] quite like marriage,” said John Duran, a West Hollywood city councilman who is gay. “Either we’re creatures in a bizarre subculture excluded from the American mainstream, or we are part of the mainstream.”

Despite the setback, polls even that spring showed that a majority of Californians believed gays deserved protection from discrimination and should receive many of the rights married people enjoy.

And the campaign against Proposition 22, while unsuccessful, mobilized hundreds of activists and produced a computer file of 700,000 voters sympathetic to gay rights--a database that has been tapped effectively to lobby lawmakers, most recently on the domestic partners bill.

In addition, the sting of defeat was soothed considerably in November 2000, when two more openly gay candidates won seats in the Legislature: Democratic Assemblywomen Jackie Goldberg and Christine Kehoe. In joining Kuehl and Assemblywoman Carole Migden, a San Francisco Democrat elected in 1996, the newcomers doubled the openly gay presence in Sacramento overnight.

“We’re as big as the Asian American caucus,” said Kuehl, who broke another barrier a year ago when Los Angeles voters elevated her to the Senate. “It’s not lonely anymore.”

Although four out of 120 legislators hardly amounts to numerical clout, the women who hold those jobs are central players in Sacramento. Migden, chairwoman of the powerful Assembly Appropriations Committee, is a close ally of Davis and has consistently been named one of the hardest-working and most influential legislators by California Journal, a respected magazine that produces a biannual ranking of lawmakers.

Kuehl is considered one of the sharpest minds in the Capitol and has the trust of Davis and Senate leader John Burton (D-San Francisco). She has twice been ranked tops in integrity by California Journal and has won the magazine’s honors for her work ethic and influence too.

As for the newcomers, Goldberg, a former Los Angeles councilwoman, distinguished herself as a quick study on the energy crisis and is known for her work on education and labor issues. Kehoe, a former San Diego councilwoman, was named assistant speaker pro tempore, a high-profile assignment requiring her to frequently run Assembly floor sessions.

‘Lavender Caucus’ Not Single-Issue Group

The four women have shown “they are not single-issue people,” said Brian Bond of the Gay and Lesbian Victory Fund, a Washington-based group that works to elect homosexuals. Instead, he said, they “talk about streets and crime and taxes and the environment.”

Indeed, members of the “lavender caucus,” as some call the quartet, spend only a small fraction of their time on matters related to gay rights.

Migden carried the domestic partners bill this year, but also sponsored a measure restricting “predatory lending,” the practice of making high-interest loans to people with poor credit histories and heavy debt, many of them elderly.

Past Migden bills raised pay for jurors, required health warnings on cigar packages and ensured that children of legal immigrants are covered by the state’s health insurance program for the poor.

Kuehl, meanwhile, carried a groundbreaking 1999 bill protecting gay students from harassment at school.

But she also is known for laws related to women’s rights, health care and the environment. This year she won the governor’s signature on a widely praised bill requiring developers of large subdivisions to prove that water supplies exist to serve them.

“These women are not lesbian legislators,” Burton said. “They are tough, competent legislators who happen to be lesbians.”

Migden, who will be chased from office next year by term limits, has a strong shot at winning a seat on the State Board of Equalization. If she prevails, she will become California’s first openly gay constitutional officer.

Her exit from the Assembly also may pave the way for another first: the election of an openly gay man to the Legislature.

Activists aren’t sure why it has taken so long for that to happen, though Duran--the West Hollywood councilman, who lost a 1994 Assembly race to Kuehl--believes voters feel less threatened by lesbians than by gay men. He also said gay males were distracted for years from mainstream politics by AIDS.

“That explains to me why gay men are so successful in West Hollywood or San Francisco politics, but haven’t made it to the next level,” he said.

Although statehouse conservatives retain strong philosophical disagreements with their lesbian colleagues, in most cases they respect the women’s work. Kuehl, in particular, has managed to bridge the ideological gulf and forge alliances with Republicans.

Sen. Ray Haynes (R-Riverside), an evangelical Christian, said he views homosexuality as immoral and does not believe that gay couples deserve rights enjoyed by married heterosexuals. But he called Kuehl “honest and honorable” and said he helped her win then-Gov. Pete Wilson’s signature on several bills.

That said, Haynes laments the growing number of gay legislators and the expansion of their agenda.

“It seems that those who announce their sexual orientation to the world are trying to get all of us to say their relationships are legitimate,” Haynes said. “I like Sheila. She’s a nice lady. But I’ll never believe that sort of sexual behavior is acceptable.”

Although gays now find that the door into politics is ajar, success has not come easily. There are still only 40 openly gay elected officials in California, out of a national total of about 205. And many, such as former Los Angeles Councilman Joel Wachs, have felt the need to wait until late in their tenures to disclose their sexual orientation.

Moreover, California is home to well organized conservative groups that oppose any expansion of gay rights. One of the most vocal is the Anaheim-based Traditional Values Coalition, whose leader, the Rev. Lou Sheldon, recently called on relief agencies to withhold aid from the partners of gays killed by terrorists Sept. 11.

The passions of such groups were plainly visible during the fight this year over AB 25, which grants domestic partners who register with the state a dozen new legal benefits. They include the right to sue for the wrongful death of a partner, make medical decisions for a hospitalized partner, act as a conservator and use sick leave to care for an ill or incapacitated partner.

Randy Thomasson, leader of the Campaign for California Families, said the measure “undermines and cheapens marriage” by awarding some marital benefits to gays.

The conservative lobbying group delivered 20,000 petitions to the governor’s office and ran radio and television ads attacking the bill. Earlier in the year, the organization sent a “marriage protection pledge” to legislators and then dispatched news releases naming those who refused to sign it.

AB 25 spawned an uproar inside the Capitol as well, with Republicans pulling out Bibles during Assembly debate and declaring homosexuality an abomination. The legislation passed, but failed to receive a single Republican vote in either house.

Davis, however, signed the bill, and then celebrated with advocates at a ceremony in his office. On hand were several of the 30 openly gay appointees and aides in Davis’ administration, a group that includes his deputy chief of staff, Susan Kennedy, State Auditor Elaine Howle and the directors of three state departments.

Governor’s Ceremony an Important Symbol

For many gays, the event carried not only momentous substance, but huge symbolism as well. It came, after all, on the 10-year anniversary of Wilson’s veto of legislation to protect gays from discrimination in housing and employment.

That veto, said Duran of West Hollywood, was a crucial turning point for gay politics in the state--”the match that lit all this political kindling that had been just below the surface.”

In Los Angeles, Sacramento and San Francisco, thousands of angry protesters took to the streets to vent their rage. Wilson was burned in effigy at rallies and shouted down as he gave speeches.

In the following months, membership in gay political organizations swelled and, Duran said, a sense of purpose settled over the movement. A community fractured by AIDS and disputes over the tactics of militant groups such as ACT UP began to come together.

During the Wilson years, gays mostly played defense in Sacramento, working to defeat unfriendly bills. By the time Davis was elected, they were ready for dramatic change--much like others whose liberal causes were stalled by Wilson and GOP Gov. George Deukmejian before him.

Urged on by gay lobbyists eager for breakthroughs, Migden and Kuehl quickly set to work drafting bills to aid their community.

Gays appointed by Davis, meanwhile, toiled on the inside, nudging the governor forward. One of the most influential is Kennedy, a trusted policy advisor to Davis and his trouble-shooter on the budget and other contentious issues.

But as he has on so many fronts, Davis has proved to be a go-slow moderate on gay rights. In 1999, he signed the Kuehl bill protecting gay students from harassment, a bill solidifying protections for gays on the job and in housing, and another Migden bill giving domestic partners the right to register with the state. That was historic, analysts say, because it defined gay couples as a legal entity.

In 2000, however, Davis insisted on what Migden calls “an off-season,” supporting no gay-related legislation and vetoing a measure that would have allowed homosexuals to use family leave to care for a sick partner. He also angered many gays by supporting Proposition 22, the initiative defining marriage as the union of a man and a woman.

This year, activists say, Davis demanded the removal of an important provision from AB 25--the right of domestic partners to inherit property without a will--before he would sign it.

Migden acknowledged that the governor is “not going to leap out in front of the public and go wild on this stuff,” but said that “important social achievements often happen incrementally.”

So what is the next increment? Most gays say the priority is further legal recognition of their relationships. That means adding rights for domestic partners.

One lawmaker, however, is pushing a faster timetable, introducing a bill to create a system of “civil unions” similar to that provided to gays in Vermont. Assemblyman Paul Koretz (D-West Hollywood) anticipates opposition, so he is holding informational hearings on the concept around the state.

Are Californians ready for civil unions? Kuehl is hopeful, but realistic, too.

“My analysis is that the closer we get to anything that looks to people like marriage, the more reluctant they are to jump on board,” she said. “But that will change. And until then, we’ll just keep moving step by step to build on the rights we’ve already won.”

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Times Sacramento researcher Patti Williams contributed to this report.