After the passage of Proposition 8, some of my friends and I began discussing the irony of California lagging behind a Midwest state (namely, Iowa) in terms of providing marriage equality to its citizens. That conversation eventually turned to the question of how Long Beach might make a statement in regard to this situation. How might we move past feel-good declarations from our City Council in support of same-sex marriage, and instead focus on legislation addressing issues of equality that actually fall under the purview of municipal government? We jokingly termed this effort the “Iowa-by-the-Sea” movement, recalling one longstanding nickname for Long Beach recognizing its historic ties to the Midwest.
The movement for the equal rights of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered (LGBT) persons has moved to the forefront of America’s long struggle for civil rights. Throughout this larger struggle, many faces and names have gone largely unrecognized. Others, however, have become enshrined into our nation’s history. Names like Harriet Tubman and Susan Brownell Anthony are inscribed in our history books and on our monuments, to remain in the consciousness of future generations.
To honor civil rights heroes like these, their names grace schools, government structures, and municipal assets like parks and libraries. From Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue to Autrilla Scott Lane (to mention two examples from Long Beach), naming streets is a familiar example of this tactic. When will it be the right time for some city in the United States to honor heroes of the LGBT Rights movement in this fashion? To do so could galvanize public opinion, creating a physical marker for LGBT communities while cementing their place in the historic lexicon like Rosa Parks and Frederick Douglass. It is true that any effort to name or re-name civic or institutional facilities can encounter resistance—for instance, in the 1990s San Francisco experienced a pitched political battle over re-naming Army Street after labor organizer Cesar Chavez. However, the long-term benefits often outweigh the temporary conflict.
As the sixth state in the Union to have legalized same-sex marriage, the citizens of California now find themselves in a pitched battle to reverse a referendum that reinstated marriage discrimination. It is time to consider that given both the growing momentum for complete LGBT equality and the continuing challenges to that equality, naming a feature of our city in honor of LGBT rights would be highly meaningful.
If we accept this premise, two questions immediately arise. First, who within the LGBT rights movement should we select for this tribute? Second, what should be named or renamed? The selection of the person must not be taken lightly; enough time should have passed so that a historic context exists for their contributions. Ideally, the person should be someone with both symbolic value to LGBT communities and familiarity to the broader public. A direct connection to Long Beach certainly wouldn’t hurt, but is not necessary, as we see in everything from the Colin Powell Academy in North Long Beach to the new Mark Twain Library.
Without attempting to present the final word, but simply initiate a discussion, I propose we honor San Francisco’s first openly gay Supervisor, Harvey Milk. As one of the most chronicled faces within the LGBT movement, Milk remains a relevant icon even today. Multiple books, musicals, an Academy Award-winning documentary, and most recently the multiple-award-winning biopic starring Sean Penn as Harvey Milk have painted a detailed account of his life. Time Magazine listed Harvey Milk as one of their “Time 100 Heroes and Icons of the 20th Century” and the Advocate listed him third in their “Forty Heroes of the 20th Century” issue. There is certainly well-recognized precedent for establishing his place in history.
When naming or renaming something for a famous person, it is always more effective when there is some relevant connection between the honoree and the facilities that bear their name, as in the case of Rosie the Riveter Park near the former Douglas Aircraft Company campus. Barring some hitherto undocumented direct connection between Long Beach and Harvey Milk, it makes the most sense to consider that a facility in southern Long Beach, considered the center of GLBT communities in the city.
Indeed, the most fitting candidate for renaming would be Broadway, based on its importance to local GLBT communities through its social establishments and small businesses. Harvey Milk’s political activism originated in working to organize small businesses in the Castro neighborhood of San Francisco, where he owned a camera shop making the conceptual link to Broadway particularly evident. To rename this spine of Long Beach’s GLBT life would formally identify this neighborhood, as Little Phnom Penh does along Anaheim Street or Martin Luther King Jr. Park does in Central Long Beach. Of course, the point is not that these neighborhoods are exclusive to any group, but that they are focal points for community: for instance, the two examples mentioned above are where the Cambodian New Year’s Parade and Martin Luther King Jr. Day Celebration take place. It bears noting that while the annual Pride celebration takes place along Ocean Boulevard, the more spontaneous “No on 8” protests in November 2008 and June 2009 took place on Broadway itself.
Thus, to rename Broadway after Harvey Milk would solidify its place in the region as a center of GLBT commerce and community. Minor zoning changes and creating a business improvement district along the street would help it flourish further (particularly in this dreary economic climate), while a road diet (as described in an earlier post) would drastically improve the pedestrian atmosphere. With this minor amount of public investment compared to that already expended on Second Street in Belmont Shore as well as Downtown’s Pine Avenue, Harvey Milk could become one of the most vibrant commercial corridors in Long Beach.
Such an endeavor would be significant, and would likely face resistance. That resistance could range from those attached to the current name of “Broadway” (despite the fact that this rather banal name can be found in innumerable cities), to those who do not see any redeeming benefit in recognizing one of the heroes of equality. Despite the span of time since his death, to recognize Harvey Milk’s contributions would be groundbreaking. I have been shocked to find that so far as I can tell, no street in the United States has yet been named for Harvey Milk! (There is a Harvey Milk Plaza in San Francisco, but no street bearing his name.) Some city must take the first step, as Chicago did when in 1968 it become the first city in the nation to rename a street after Martin Luther King, Jr. How fitting if the man who said “If a bullet should go through my head let that bullet go through every closet door” be honored in this most public form.