LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
You have the right to remain...sleeping |
by Eric C. Peterson |
One early morning last month, I was asleep in my bedroom when a policeman woke me up. No, not in a good way.
One moment I was sleeping soundly, and the next, I had a flashlight in my face and two uniformed officers barking at me to get up and show them some identification. If I hadn't been so groggy and semi-conscious (I've been known to sleep through a hurricane on a boat), this probably would have been the scariest experience of my life. So, I jumped up, put clothes on, and proved to the officers that I indeed lived in the house. I didn't ask what they were doing there, or demand to see a warrant; the whole situation was too surreal. I just showed them the I.D. Then, and only then, did they explain the situation to me. It began a few weeks before, when my adoptive lesbian moms visited my new home. While they were generally impressed, one big concern was door locksmine required a key to get out as well as to get in. "If there's a fire," they asked, "how will you find the keys to get out of here?" It was a good question. I promised to call a locksmith...soon, when I could afford it. Meanwhile, I came up with what I thought was a nifty solution. Nightly, I'd deadbolt only the back door to the alley. Then, I'd shut the front door tight, and turn the little widget on the doorknob, so a potential intruder couldn't open it from the outside. But I'd leave the deadbolt alone, unless I left the house. And I'd use my new security system every night. The system has two alarms: "Away" and "Stay." If you aren't home, the "Away" alarm beeps for 45 seconds after a door is opened. Then, if it's not disengaged, it lets out a high-pitched electronic wail that sounds like the shower scene from Psycho. When you are home and an intruder comes in, the "Stay" alarm beeps, but doesn't shriek. Both alarms automatically call the cops if you don't turn them off within the 45-second window. Fast forward a few weeks. I'm getting ready for bed. I deadbolt the back door like I always do. I set the alarm like I always do. I give the front door a good push, and turn the little doorknob widget a quarter turn to the right, like I always do. I go to bed. I guess I didn't push the front door hard enough, because at 3:04 a.m. a strong wind blew it wide open. The screen door is unlocked, the front door is wide open, and the alarm is beeping...and beeping...and beeping. A normal person would have heard it, stumbled downstairs and turned it off. I, however, sleep through hurricanes on small boats. So it took two policemen in my bedroom and a flashlight in my face to get me up. As you might imagine, after the officers left I didn't get much sleep. But over Thursday morning's third cup of coffee, a few things occurred to me. First, I was glad that the alarm system worked. Second, I'm glad the cops came over before the burglars did. Third, thank God I didn't have another man in my bed. Not that it would have really mattered. Washington DC doesn't have sodomy laws. And even if they did, I don't typically practice sodomy at three in the morning (hey, none of us are as young as we used to be). For me, it was just a matter of comfort. Yes, I'm queer; yes, I'm here; yes, I expect you to get used to it. But in that particular moment, with two unfriendly, uninvited policemen in my bedroom, I really didn't want to be "the faggot who left his #$&*%@!ing door open." Upon reflection, my mind wandered to the Supreme Court, where the case of Lawrence & Garner v. Texas was being heard. John Geddes Lawrence and Tyron Garner were having consensual sex in Lawrence's home when the police entered the house on a false burglary tip. The two were arrested under the Homosexual Conduct Statute of Texas, which reads, "(a) A person commits an offense if he engages in deviate sexual intercourse with another individual of the same sex; (b) An offense under this section is a Class C misdemeanor." When I first heard about the case, I was eager to dismiss it. I felt bad for the guys, but with more practical laws like civil unions and non-discrimination clauses being addressed, who cares about ancient sodomy laws? I mean, how often are they really enforced? Come on, it's a million to one chance that a cop just barges into your home for no reason...right? Needless to say, I feel differently now. I do my best to be a law-abiding citizen. I pay my taxes, I leave my mattress tags alone, and I don't drive an inch above 25 miles per hour through Ellendale. Still, I know what it is to look up from my pillow and see a barking crew cut with a badge. The truth is it could happen to any of us. It happened to John Geddes Lawrence and Tyron Gardner. It took a moment of panic ("Thank God I didn't have another man in my bed") for me to face what is, to me, a startling reality: there are places in this country where it's illegal for gay people to physically express love for one another. The laws seem impractical to some. But they apply to us all. I've got new locks now. The front door has a single-cylindered deadbolt, and I'm using the "Away" alarm even when I'm home asleep. That takes care of the past. For the future, I'm signing and distributing petitions to prevent extremist judges from ascending to the U.S. Supreme Court. I'm getting involved politically, supporting candidates who respect me and who are actively working for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender equality. And I'm telling this story every chance I get. Because these things matter. I now know they really, really do. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 13, No. 7, June 13, 2003 |