By Andrew Brink

In 1980, author Edmund White published an account of his travels through a land he called Gay America. His book, “States of Desire,” depicted the lives of homosexuals residing in Gaytopias such as New York City and Seattle while providing a rare glimpse of life in and out of the closet in small towns like Memphis and Salt Lake City. He also visited the Midwest, referring to Chicago, Kansas City and Minneapolis as “Cities of the Plain.” What he found in the Heartland, in stark contrast to San Francisco, where “gay fantasies come true,” was simply depressing.

White writes: “For generations homosexuals and lesbians have led furtive, self-hating lives in the Midwest — static, dreary lives. … Only in the Midwest has so little changed over such a long period.”

Iowa is never mentioned in White’s book — an omission that seems to imply our state was even worse off than the typical desolate Midwestern town. But if White had parted the corn curtain and did some exploring, perhaps his assessment of the Heartland would have been less bleak.

He would have seen that in 1977 Iowa City added sexual orientation to its list of protected civil rights’ categories, which already included race and age. It was one of the first cities in the country to make it illegal to discriminate against an individual because they were gay or lesbian [Los Angeles did the same, but not until 1979; St. Paul, Minn., waited even longer, adding protections for lesbians and gays to its city code in 1990]. A year later, in 1978, the Iowa Supreme Court repealed the state’s sodomy law, which had criminalized consensual sex between homosexuals [Iowa’s court blazed ahead of the U.S. Supreme Court, which didn’t strike down the country’s remaining sodomy laws until 2003].

White believed that social change was a virtue in short supply across the Midwest. But speak to anyone involved in Des Moines’ lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered (LGBT) community and you’ll hear them argue that change, accompanied by an ever growing commitment to equality, has always been a part of Iowa’s landscape.

As the local LGBT community, along with their allies, gear up for Des Moines’ 2007 Gay Pride weekend, Cityview speaks with some of its members about what they are celebrating this year.

From Stonewall to the Capital City

Note to Edmund White: there is nothing dreary, or static, about Carlos Garza. He can’t be: he’s the man responsible for making sure that Des Moines’ Gay Pride celebration is, in the words of the Veuve Cliquot-fueled Edina Monsoon, fabulous.

“I look at Pride weekend as a chance to show that Des Moines is a classy city and that the gay community is a good host to everyone,” Garza says.

For nearly three decades Des Moines has reserved the second weekend in June to focus on Gay Pride. No longer a deadly sin, Pride is celebrated annually in cities across the United States throughout June.

What began as a commemoration of the events of June 28, 1969 — the day that gave birth to the gay rights movement as gays in New York’s Stonewall tavern resisted a bar raid by locking the police in the Stonewall, setting it ablaze and introducing, via force, the notion of gay power — has evolved into parades, rallies and festivals that honor the past, celebrate the present and prepare for the future.

For the past two years, Garza has directed Capital City Pride, a group that promotes acceptance and understanding of the LGBT community through education. It also organizes Des Moines’ annual Pride parade and celebration, which commemorates its 29th anniversary this Saturday and Sunday.

Under Garza’s direction, along with what he calls “the strong support of a generous community,” the 2006 Pride parade and rally drew a record crowd of 6,000 people. This year, Garza expects nearly 8,000 revelers to attend the two-day festival (see sidebar for details), which stretches across the East Village, Simon Estes Amphitheater and the Locust Street bridge.

Garza, originally from Laredo, Texas, has lived in Des Moines for five years. As an event organizer, he appreciates the courtesy given to him by local officials. “I’m very thankful for the support we get from the city and state,” Garza says. “I always feel that they want us to have a good event. Parks and Recreation and the Capitol check in to make sure we have what we need. And the mayor always attends the rally to deliver a proclamation.”

Garza believes the importance of Gay Pride weekend is that it provides an opportunity for the LGBT community to gather and celebrate. He views Sunday’s parade as a way for all people to be entertained (there will be floats, music and of course, drag queens) and educated, since many political campaigns will be marching this year.

“Whether the parade is political or not depends on the viewer. Some may see it as another part of the celebration while others will see it as a way to remember those who are still fighting for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender causes and the civil rights that should be granted to all citizens of this country.”

Gay Des Moines

At age 70, Harold Wells has the advantage of taking the long view when looking at the history of Des Moines’ Gay Pride weekend. Originally from Little Rock, Ark., Wells has spent the past 40 years in Des Moines.

“I’ve attended every single Pride parade,” Wells says. “In the first years, there was just a handful of marchers and the parade was only a block long. It’s quite different today.”

Wells remembers when the parade and rally were centered around Nollen Plaza instead of the East Village.

“In the earlier days, there was definitely a fear that something might happen, that people might say something nasty to you if they knew you were gay,” Wells says. “But I can’t think of one negative experience I’ve had in Des Moines. I’ve never felt discriminated against as a person. ”

Wells came out later in life, after having two sons, both now living within walking distance of their father. “Coming out is a process, just as life ought to be. One becomes more aware of the complexity of who you are as you grow. Des Moines has been a comfortable and accepting place for me.”

Wells is the chairman of the statewide Stop the Arms Race Political Action Committee and a former campus minister for Drake University. He is also an ordained minister in the Methodist Church and holds a Ph.D. in human sexuality. And he’s no stranger to life in the political spotlight.

In 1980, he was the first openly gay Iowan to be elected out of the state’s caucus process to attend the Democratic National Convention. “I was a poster child because of that. My photo appeared in papers all over the country, just because I was gay. On top of that, my vote was uncommitted, meaning both President Carter and Teddy Kennedy would call me once a week for three weeks to ask what it would take to get my vote.”

He was the first openly gay man to run for the Des Moines School Board when he campaigned in the ’70s.

“I don’t remember the exact year, but I was a leading candidate at the time,” Wells says. “I was defeated thanks to the efforts of some right wing churches. There was some fear on their part. There’s still a long way to go in dealing with the tension between sexuality and religion.”

Reflecting on this weekend’s pride activities, Wells says he expects it to be quite a celebration. He was present as Gov. Chet Culver signed Senate File 427 into law. The legislation prohibits discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity in credit practices, education, employment, housing and public accommodation.

“It was a significant event,” Wells says. “The bill lets us know that we are no different than anyone else.

“There is something unique about Iowans that is hard to identify. Part of it is hospitality, part of it is a sense of what’s the big deal when it comes to issues of sexuality. There is a live-and-let-live attitude among Iowans. And many people have discovered that their family includes gays and lesbians. Everyone knows someone, which helps do away with the fear of the unknown.”

Reason to be proud

Sandy Vopalka, founder and board president of Equality Iowa, begins to talk about what she’ll be celebrating this weekend, but is momentarily left speechless.

Vopalka, like Wells, attended the signing of the civil rights bill.

“It still seems unreal,” Vopalka says. “I’ve spent a good portion of my life focused on one activity: making sure this civil rights legislation was passed. I had tears in my eyes as the governor signed it. In my heart, I knew it would eventually happen. We just needed to be patient.”

The civil rights bill was first introduced in 1989, when it passed in the House but failed in the Senate. It was reintroduced in 1992 and passed the Senate but failed in the House. As the founder of Equality Iowa, a nonprofit with the mission to build a more supportive environment for the state’s LGBT community, Vopalka spent the past year lobbying for the passage of the bill at the Capitol. Her work on the issue began nearly five years ago.

“This was the first year that anyone really could lobby, since none of the bills before this year had a life,” Vopalka says. “They never made it to a sub-committee before and if they did, they never had a meeting to be talked about and just died. But I started calling legislators and businesses in 2002 and told them civil rights for the LGBT community was going to be a big issue.”

Vopalka says that as recently as four years ago, many of Iowa’s lawmakers didn’t admit to knowing a gay person. “When I would talk to them in person about the bill, and told them I was a lesbian, they would just look at me with a blank stare. An openly gay person was odd for them.”

So after 18 years of false starts, what made this legislative session different? Vopalka gives credit to the Democratic leadership.

“The Democrats took a chance, and I have to really applaud them,” Vopalka says. “They were willing to pull out all the stops. They locked the chambers down to get the vote, a procedure they’ve only done one other time in the past 12 years.”

Vopalka also credits the work of the thousands of people who made equality a central issue this past legislative session.

“This step forward required the efforts of a huge network of people,” Vopalka says. She names businesses, individuals, nonprofits, churches and labor groups that e-mailed, called and met with legislators, including the National Gay and Lesbian Taskforce, One Iowa, the ACLU of Iowa, Planned Parenthood, Wells Fargo, Principal Financial Group, Bankers Trust, Meredith Corporation and Plymouth Congregational Church.

When the nondiscrimination bill goes into effect July 1, Iowa will become the 19th state in the country to outlaw discrimination based on sexual orientation and the 12th to prohibit discrimination based on gender identity.

“Iowa’s bill is one of the most expansive in the country,” Vopalka says. “This makes us one of the most progressive states. I’ve heard from transgendered people in Pittsburgh who are excited because they don’t believe their city will ever pass such legislation. They want to know what services we have. As a community, we need to know how we will answer these questions, since they are going to increase.”

Center of the community

Myke Selha, executive director of the LGBT Community Center of Central Iowa, shares Vopalka’s concern. Selha, a native a Rock Valley who attended Iowa State University before moving to Des Moines eight years ago, is certain that more Iowans will come out as lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered now that the civil rights bill has passed.

“But I’m nervous about it,” Selha says. “History has shown that with every step forward there’s a backlash. My concern is that as rural people come out, support systems will not be in place. There is the potential for people to speak out and have no one to back them up. This could lead to more harassment.”

Selha’s observation is based on personal experience. Since the civil rights bill passed, the number of prank calls the center has received has increased.

“The messages are vulgar, with no real content. They contain a sexual harassment undertone,” Selha says. “They are an angry response but I don’t expect them to last.”

The phone calls remind Selha of the importance of Des Moines’s Gay Pride celebration. “I attended my first Des Moines Pride in ’99 and there were more people marching in the parade than were watching. It’s grown so large from where it was a decade ago that I have a hard time wrapping my head around it.

“At one point, our parade was about sending the message, ‘we’re here, we want a place at the table.’ Now it’s moved beyond that to send a message of tolerance. Now we are saying, ‘appreciate what we bring to society.’”

The LGBT center, located at 3839 Merle Hay Rd., opened in 1984. Originally acting as a referral service, the center has grown to house its own lending library, provide legal and mental health referrals and act as a safe space where the LGBT community can relax and hold meetings.

“Our longevity is a result of a pool of volunteers,” Selha says. “The community has made it a priority to make sure this place exists.”

Selha and the center’s board of directors are now working on expanding their services, particularly in Iowa’s rural areas, and its hours of operation.

“The civil rights bill has passed, but that doesn’t automatically change people’s attitudes. We still have work to do in making people’s lives easier.”

Liberty for all

Larry Hahn is making life easier for anyone wanting to buy a Bad Boyfriend Voodoo Doll. Hahn has operated Liberty Gifts in the East Village for almost a year. His Web site proudly proclaims: “We are gay owned, operated and decorated.”

Hahn, who has 15 years of retail management experience, describes Liberty Gifts as Des Moines’ first full-fledged gay pride store, which means there are plenty of rainbow-colored products, ranging from rings to flags to stickers. But there’s also locally produced art — Cassie Smith’s photography and Brian Hutzell’s paintings — as well as jewelry, T-shirts (sporting slogans like “ABBA: Anyone But Bush Again” and “Love Thy Neighbor”) and an eclectic assortment of DVDs (from “Jackass: Number Two” to “The Celluloid Closet”). And several RuPaul dolls.

Even without an army of 7-inch RuPauls, there’d be no denying that Liberty Gifts is aimed at the LGBT market. And according to Hahn, Des Moines loves it. He says that 50 percent of his customers are women, 25 percent are straight and the rest are gay.

“I’ve already exceeded my business plan for the first year,” Hahn says. “While the store is all about gay pride, it will always change. I had a local business owner come in when I opened and say, ‘I don’t get it. I don’t get your theme. How can you make a store like this work?’ I also had a legislator come in, who was supportive of me being in the East Village, but asked, ‘how can you make a living selling rainbows?’

“He’s right. There are only so many rainbows a gay man can buy. Which is why I’m always stocking new products and keeping the store fresh. The key is to sell what people are looking for.”

In other words, Hahn is dealing with the same problems any small business owner faces. He has found that his sexuality — and the LGBT culture reflected in his store — has not been an obstacle.

“I’ve lived in every state west of the Mississippi, except Utah and Nevada, and chose to settle in Des Moines,” Hahn says. “I fell in love with the city and the people here. I was going to open an import store, since my first love is antiques, but what I heard from the community was that there was a need for pride store. So here I am.”

Hahn says he has had some people walk into the store, notice the “I Think He’s Gay” T-shirt and do an about face. But no one has been overtly rude.

“My store is bright and colorful and attracts a lot of people. People come to the East Village for the high end stores and might not expect to encounter such a bohemian shop.”

Hahn is preparing for Gay Pride weekend by stocking new jewelry items and a highly coveted product: George W. Bush toilet paper. “Each sheet has his face on it,” Hahn says. “People use it to make streamers.” It sells for $11.95 a roll.

“Gay Pride isn’t just a weekend,” Hahn says. “It’s a time to know you can be yourself without facing judgment or retribution. It’s an opportunity to let the rest of the community know we are here. It’s a time for everyone to come out and be counted.” CV

SIDE BAR

Out and about: schedule of Gay Pride events

Saturday
6 p.m.-midnight
Pride 2007 Street Party
East Fifth Street, between Grand and Locust, in Des Moines’ East Village. Ribbon cutting with Gov. Chet Culver at 6:30 p.m. “Pride Idol” finals at 7 p.m. Headliner: Pepper MaShay, international dance diva.

Sunday
9 a.m.
Metropolitan Community Church Worship and Praise Service at Simon Estes Amphitheater (at East 1st Street between Locust and Walnut).

Noon
Line up begins for the Des Moines Pride Parade at the Iowa State Capitol.

1 p.m.
Des Moines Pride Parade begins at the State Capitol and continues to the Simon Estes Amphitheater. Visit www.capitalcitypride.org for more information.

2-5 p.m.
Des Moines Pride Rally at Simon Estes Amphitheater, hosted by Joe Tish and featuring headliner Robin S. Food vendors and beer garden set up on Locust Street bridge.

6-10 p.m.
Sunday Street Party
East Fifth Street, between Grand and Locust, in Des Moines’ East Village.

Monday
10 a.m.
Gay Day at Adventureland in Altoona. Wear green.

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