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OK everyone, let's all climb into the Way Back machine. The year is 2003. Former
Scene publisher and current SouthComm honcho Chris Ferrell is ending his second at-large term in Metro council. As a swan song, the former grand marshal of Nashville's gay pride parade introduces a bill to protect Davidson County residents from discrimination based on who they choose to hold hands with.
The bill sails through Council's first two readings. But then a handful of pissed-off constituents and religious groups start raising hell about government limiting their right to fire whoever the hell they want to fire and activist legislators trying to turn Nashville into San Francisco. The bill gets narrowed down to only include Metro employees, both sides retreat to their corners, each thumping their bibles and/or pride sticker rally sticks in an effort to drown out the other side, with the end result being a tie-breaking vote for the opposition filed by Vice Mayor Howard Gentry. Perceived bigotry rules the day. The End.
Flash forward to today and things look different. For one, the idea that you can't fire someone just because they're a guy who likes guys or a girl who likes girls is now commonplace amongst one group of Metro employees: Last year, the anti-discrimination provision was included in the teacher's new contract with Metro schools. For another, six years may not be a lifetime, but in that span we've gone through Prop 8 and the cancellation of Will & Grace and all sorts of other cultural touchstones that, one would assume, would make people a little more friendly towards the gays.
But there's one other reason to think this might finally be the year gays and lesbians get their due in Nashville...
As Chris Sanders, Chairman of Tennessee's Equality Project, explains, anti-discrimination proponents now have a narrative thread to counter claims from the opposition that laws like this are ambiguous and have unintended consequences. Previously, the anti-discrimination fight was couched in this idea that everyone knows the gays get hated on, so if you're not for it you're a bigot. This argument, however just, only goes so far when it comes to law, because it's not just about doing what it is right, it's also being able to prove that the legislation will solve a problem that exists. Sanders says he's got proof.
"We have talked to metro employees who are afraid to come forward about anti-gay harassment," says Sanders. "We are aware of one in water, one in police and one who used to work for the juvenile court. That's not to say the people at the top are condoning discrimination. This could be a front-line supervisor and the head of the department isn't aware. But why would you report something if you're not covered? You're not gonna get anywhere and you could be retaliated against."
Basically, Sanders now has proof. Rather than making an argument based on his and anti-discrimination proponents sense of morality (and make no mistake, we're firmly on the side of it's wrong to fire or harass someone because they're gay), they can make the argument that, well, employees of this city are actually adversely effected by the absence of laws protecting them. And that, considering a
gay teller at Bank of America has more rights than a cop, it probably makes as much business sense as anything else to hop on this bandwagon and make sure everyone has equal coverage under the law.