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Thursday, March 25, 2004 Washington Post
Politicians Balance Private Lives, Public Votes: Kaiser, Others Weigh Risks of Speaking Up
By Matthew Mosk
When Del. Anne R. Kaiser entered her second year in the General Assembly in January, she was intent on tackling the education policy and budget issues that had been the focus of her graduate study and the basis of her first campaign for public office.
But it wasn't long into the legislature's 90-day session that another subject started nagging at the Democrat from Olney. Gay marriage was becoming a major national issue. In Annapolis, there was a growing pile of bills aimed at either restricting or expanding the rights of gay and lesbian couples.
"With everything that was going on around the country, I just woke up one morning and said, 'I have to do this,' " she said.
What she felt compelled to do was show up at the Health and Government Operations Committee room March 4 and testify on legislation that would extend to same-sex couples the identical rights that heterosexuals have when visiting a sick loved one in the hospital or when conveying their partner's treatment wishes to a physician.
She needed, she said, to explain to her colleagues exactly why it mattered to her so much.
"I want to choose the person who will make medical decisions on my behalf," Kaiser testified. "I assume that everyone on this committee -- and everyone in this room -- also wants that choice. Unfortunately for me, and thousands of gay Marylanders like me, that choice is not currently a fundamental right offered in Maryland's law."
As Kaiser spoke, she said she could see her colleagues register what it was she was telling them. Not only did she have an opinion on this bill, but as a lesbian, she had a personal stake in it.
Kaiser's decision to speak publicly about her sexual orientation for the first time represented a rare unscripted moment during the legislature's otherwise tightly orchestrated three-month session. Debate over the more than 2,000 bills that are drafted each year is almost always clinical and restrained. But this year's discussion of the rights of domestic partners has emerged as an exception.
For Kaiser, 36, and other openly gay members of the Maryland General Assembly, that has meant balancing the meaningful issues that got them elected against the ones that matter in their own daily lives. "It's something that I think, as an openly gay man, you've got an obligation to work on," said Del. Richard S. Madaleno Jr., a Montgomery County Democrat who helped Del. John A. Hurson (D-Montgomery) draft the medical rights bill. "But it's not what I want to be known for here. I'm in Annapolis for a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with my personal life."
It's a problem that emerges every so often in Annapolis, when the personal and political collide.
Take, for instance, the deeply emotional stories that have become part of the backdrop of the recent debate over slot machines.
Two opponents of slots have testified to their fellow legislators about their firsthand experiences with gambling. House Speaker Michael E. Busch (D-Anne Arundel) surprised his colleagues last year by disclosing that his father had abandoned his family three decades earlier and moved to Las Vegas to eke out a lonely existence as a small-time card shark.
Sen. Thomas M. Middleton (D-Charles) told colleagues that his opposition to slots could be traced to a day four decades ago when his father took the earnings from his Charles County farm's wheat harvest and played slot machines until all the money was gone. It was only through the generosity of friends and family that the Middletons were able to pay their taxes that season and keep their farm.
Five years ago, personal grief compelled Parris N. Glendening (D) to sit before a House of Delegates committee and testify on pending legislation for the first and only time during his eight-year tenure as governor.
The measure Glendening championed was a bill that, when it passed, added sexual orientation to anti-discrimination laws that had outlawed bias based on race, religion, age and gender. Glendening described the last time he visited his brother, Bruce, a 19-year Air Force veteran and closeted homosexual who was dying of AIDS in a Florida hospital.
"You could not touch his skin without causing great pain," the governor testified. "As difficult as that was, he told me that it was more difficult to live 19 years of his life knowing that if anyone was made aware of his sexual orientation, he would lose the job and the profession he loved so much."
After telling his story, Glendening told reporters that he testified out of a sense of moral obligation. "This was more than just me weighing in on some legislation," he said. "This was a chance for me to speak out with high visibility against something I care deeply about."
The same emotion swept over Kaiser in the weeks before she arrived at the House hearing room. She knew that an unexpected declaration could bring attention to the subject of gay rights. What she planned was a time-honored political practice -- putting a human face on a hotly debated issue.
Kaiser's mentor and colleague, Del. Henry B. Heller (D-Montgomery), said he supported her decision to speak out about her sexual orientation. "She felt it would be dishonest to sit silently and let other people fight her fight," Heller said.
But Kaiser confided that she was worried about the political repercussions of coming out, Heller said. Would crusading on the subject turn off voters who had elected her with no regard for her sexual orientation? Would the fact that she is a lesbian overshadow a resume that includes past work as an economist with the U.S. Treasury Department and master's degrees in public policy and educational studies?
Kaiser put these questions to one of her chief political advisers, consultant David Goodman, over lunch at the Old Hickory Grille in Burtonsville.
"Her concern was she didn't want this issue to define her," Goodman said. "She's a legislator who cares about a lot of different issues. She cares about education, about tax policy. She didn't want people to look at her as the gay legislator."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Small world. I'm not actually that David Goodman.
I met Anne Kaiser several years ago at a University of Michigan School of Public Policy event. I've interacted with her at State Democratic Party events, and I got involved in Chris VanHollen's campain on her suggestion. I see her a few times a year at Redskins games. We aren't particularly close. I didn't know she was gay until a few weeks ago. It never seemed relevant to the nature of our interaction - which has been cordial but mostly professional. I'm still confident that Anne will do a fine job representing my parents' district. She's a responsible and credible public servant. I agree with and understand her reservations. But I would have given her the same advice the other David Goodman did.
I know her capacity and credibility as a public servant. I've never felt particularly pro-gay marriage, and I'm not going to organize or advocate on the issue. I sympathize and agree with many of the arguments for recognition and I certainly can't support a Amendment to Ban. To be honest, I'm trying to figure out why, as a matter of public policy, a gay couple's desire to marry merits my oversight solely on the grounds of sexual orientation.
As far as I can tell, the best argument in favor of a ban is that the general public is 'uncomfortable' with the concept of Gay Marriage. And that's not an entirely insignificant argument to make in a democratic society. Long term, for me, the answer is to continue taking intermediate steps that help the general public become more comfortable with the concept.
Four years ago 'civil unions' were considered a radical proposition. Now, it's becoming a mainstream idea. Democracy is sometimes frustrating and slow going, but I think we are seeing progress. And largely, progress has come outside the political arena but because of how public opinion can move over time. Regardless of what talking heads say on either side.
Politicians Balance Private Lives, Public Votes: Kaiser, Others Weigh Risks of Speaking Up
By Matthew Mosk
When Del. Anne R. Kaiser entered her second year in the General Assembly in January, she was intent on tackling the education policy and budget issues that had been the focus of her graduate study and the basis of her first campaign for public office.
But it wasn't long into the legislature's 90-day session that another subject started nagging at the Democrat from Olney. Gay marriage was becoming a major national issue. In Annapolis, there was a growing pile of bills aimed at either restricting or expanding the rights of gay and lesbian couples.
"With everything that was going on around the country, I just woke up one morning and said, 'I have to do this,' " she said.
What she felt compelled to do was show up at the Health and Government Operations Committee room March 4 and testify on legislation that would extend to same-sex couples the identical rights that heterosexuals have when visiting a sick loved one in the hospital or when conveying their partner's treatment wishes to a physician.
She needed, she said, to explain to her colleagues exactly why it mattered to her so much.
"I want to choose the person who will make medical decisions on my behalf," Kaiser testified. "I assume that everyone on this committee -- and everyone in this room -- also wants that choice. Unfortunately for me, and thousands of gay Marylanders like me, that choice is not currently a fundamental right offered in Maryland's law."
As Kaiser spoke, she said she could see her colleagues register what it was she was telling them. Not only did she have an opinion on this bill, but as a lesbian, she had a personal stake in it.
Kaiser's decision to speak publicly about her sexual orientation for the first time represented a rare unscripted moment during the legislature's otherwise tightly orchestrated three-month session. Debate over the more than 2,000 bills that are drafted each year is almost always clinical and restrained. But this year's discussion of the rights of domestic partners has emerged as an exception.
For Kaiser, 36, and other openly gay members of the Maryland General Assembly, that has meant balancing the meaningful issues that got them elected against the ones that matter in their own daily lives. "It's something that I think, as an openly gay man, you've got an obligation to work on," said Del. Richard S. Madaleno Jr., a Montgomery County Democrat who helped Del. John A. Hurson (D-Montgomery) draft the medical rights bill. "But it's not what I want to be known for here. I'm in Annapolis for a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with my personal life."
It's a problem that emerges every so often in Annapolis, when the personal and political collide.
Take, for instance, the deeply emotional stories that have become part of the backdrop of the recent debate over slot machines.
Two opponents of slots have testified to their fellow legislators about their firsthand experiences with gambling. House Speaker Michael E. Busch (D-Anne Arundel) surprised his colleagues last year by disclosing that his father had abandoned his family three decades earlier and moved to Las Vegas to eke out a lonely existence as a small-time card shark.
Sen. Thomas M. Middleton (D-Charles) told colleagues that his opposition to slots could be traced to a day four decades ago when his father took the earnings from his Charles County farm's wheat harvest and played slot machines until all the money was gone. It was only through the generosity of friends and family that the Middletons were able to pay their taxes that season and keep their farm.
Five years ago, personal grief compelled Parris N. Glendening (D) to sit before a House of Delegates committee and testify on pending legislation for the first and only time during his eight-year tenure as governor.
The measure Glendening championed was a bill that, when it passed, added sexual orientation to anti-discrimination laws that had outlawed bias based on race, religion, age and gender. Glendening described the last time he visited his brother, Bruce, a 19-year Air Force veteran and closeted homosexual who was dying of AIDS in a Florida hospital.
"You could not touch his skin without causing great pain," the governor testified. "As difficult as that was, he told me that it was more difficult to live 19 years of his life knowing that if anyone was made aware of his sexual orientation, he would lose the job and the profession he loved so much."
After telling his story, Glendening told reporters that he testified out of a sense of moral obligation. "This was more than just me weighing in on some legislation," he said. "This was a chance for me to speak out with high visibility against something I care deeply about."
The same emotion swept over Kaiser in the weeks before she arrived at the House hearing room. She knew that an unexpected declaration could bring attention to the subject of gay rights. What she planned was a time-honored political practice -- putting a human face on a hotly debated issue.
Kaiser's mentor and colleague, Del. Henry B. Heller (D-Montgomery), said he supported her decision to speak out about her sexual orientation. "She felt it would be dishonest to sit silently and let other people fight her fight," Heller said.
But Kaiser confided that she was worried about the political repercussions of coming out, Heller said. Would crusading on the subject turn off voters who had elected her with no regard for her sexual orientation? Would the fact that she is a lesbian overshadow a resume that includes past work as an economist with the U.S. Treasury Department and master's degrees in public policy and educational studies?
Kaiser put these questions to one of her chief political advisers, consultant David Goodman, over lunch at the Old Hickory Grille in Burtonsville.
"Her concern was she didn't want this issue to define her," Goodman said. "She's a legislator who cares about a lot of different issues. She cares about education, about tax policy. She didn't want people to look at her as the gay legislator."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Small world. I'm not actually that David Goodman.
I met Anne Kaiser several years ago at a University of Michigan School of Public Policy event. I've interacted with her at State Democratic Party events, and I got involved in Chris VanHollen's campain on her suggestion. I see her a few times a year at Redskins games. We aren't particularly close. I didn't know she was gay until a few weeks ago. It never seemed relevant to the nature of our interaction - which has been cordial but mostly professional. I'm still confident that Anne will do a fine job representing my parents' district. She's a responsible and credible public servant. I agree with and understand her reservations. But I would have given her the same advice the other David Goodman did.
I know her capacity and credibility as a public servant. I've never felt particularly pro-gay marriage, and I'm not going to organize or advocate on the issue. I sympathize and agree with many of the arguments for recognition and I certainly can't support a Amendment to Ban. To be honest, I'm trying to figure out why, as a matter of public policy, a gay couple's desire to marry merits my oversight solely on the grounds of sexual orientation.
As far as I can tell, the best argument in favor of a ban is that the general public is 'uncomfortable' with the concept of Gay Marriage. And that's not an entirely insignificant argument to make in a democratic society. Long term, for me, the answer is to continue taking intermediate steps that help the general public become more comfortable with the concept.
Four years ago 'civil unions' were considered a radical proposition. Now, it's becoming a mainstream idea. Democracy is sometimes frustrating and slow going, but I think we are seeing progress. And largely, progress has come outside the political arena but because of how public opinion can move over time. Regardless of what talking heads say on either side.