Legacy of Pride

As amazing as what gay rights activist Barbara Gittings accomplished was how she accomplished it.

by Natalie Hope McDonald

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Barbara Gittings (1932-2007) once said of being a lesbian, "We are right and the world is wrong." Few activists live to see the fruits of their labor ripen, but Gittings, a nationally known gay rights activist, lived to see not only the first gay marriage in the country, but several other important advances in LGBT rights, before passing away from breast cancer on Feb. 18 at the age of 75. Gittings' companion of 46 years, Kay Tobin Lahusen, was by her side, says Mark Segal, publisher of Philadelphia Gay News.

"She pushed the envelope by making the personal political," says Michelle Kristel, executive director of the gay and lesbian PBS-TV newsmagazine In the Life.

Born in Vienna, Austria, before moving to Wilmington, Del., and making homes in New York, Philadelphia and, most recently, Kennett Square, Gittings began her long career in activism in 1958 when she founded the New York chapter of the Daughters of Bilitis (DOB), the nation's first lesbian organization. She edited DOB's magazine, The Ladder, which painted a positive portrayal of lesbian life in the 1960s. Today, copies of the magazine are archived at the William Way Community Center.

"I will personally miss Barbara's presence in and enthusiasm for the community center," says executive director Dolph Ward Goldenburg. "But her work will continue through our archives, library, gallery and the other center programs she supported." She donated photos, books and magazines to the community center's archives, which is now one of the largest compendiums of gay and lesbian materials in the country.

Those who knew Gittings call her the mother of the LGBT civil rights movement. "In the face of a torrent of homophobia, 40 gays and lesbians gathered on July 4 in 1965 in front of Independence Hall to petition for equality," recalls Malcolm Lazin, founder of Equality Forum, during a wreath-laying ceremony last week in honor of Gittings, who was among the 40 protesters. In 2005, the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission erected a plaque honoring the event, which Gittings and Lahusen both attended.

"Barbara stepped forward in the face of a tsunami of homophobia and understood the societal consequences," says Lazin.

During an interview with City Paper's David Warner in 1999, Gittings called her achievements a group effort. She worked to get homosexuality removed from the list of mental disorders by the American Psychiatric Association, demonstrated in front of the White House in 1965, and headed the American Library Association's Task Force on Gay Liberation (now called the GLBT Round Table), urging libraries to include literature about gay life and sexuality. In 2001, the Free Library's Independence Branch dedicated the Barbara Gittings Gay/Lesbian Collection, while the ALA offers the Stonewall-Barbara Gittings Book Award for Literature each year.

She authored several books, including Gays in Library Land about her crusade to include gay and lesbian literature in public libraries. Gittings, after all, dropped out of Northwestern after she admitted spending much of her time trying to define her sexuality, unsuccessfully, through the school library. The only materials she said she could find called homosexuals "evil" and "deranged." She would spend a lifetime adding materials for young people to learn about sexuality in a positive way.

Despite all her serious accomplishments, Gittings may be best-known for a gay kissing booth she set up at a librarians' convention in 1971. "She had a great sense of humor," says Segal, who met the rights pioneer in 1970. During a celebration of Stonewall 25 years after the fact, Segal says Gittings showed up holding a stuffed dinosaur to remind young activists how not to treat LGBT seniors. "Barbara was part of an important transition," he says. "Anyone who was there before Stonewall was a pioneer." He says she wasn't always well-liked by those within the community who were afraid to come out and risk criticism, violence and loss of their jobs at a time when few people lived openly gay. "But she reached more people about the subject than most people ever do," says Segal. During the last 20 years of her life, she spoke to libraries, community groups, youth centers and retirement homes. One of her more recent crusades was to encourage seniors to stay involved, and she was a living example.

"It's such a loss," says Denise Cohen, manager of lesbian nightclub Sisters. Cohen remembers Gittings visiting Hepburn's, a popular nightspot for lesbians in what is now the 12th Air Command. Cohen says Gittings was dedicated to equal rights for LGBT people in Philadelphia and throughout the country. "It's a shame for the younger community who may not understand the path the older generation has taken," she says.

During the wreath-laying tribute, Lazin quoted Gittings from the documentary he produced, Gay Pioneers: "We cracked the cocoon of invisibility. We had finally stepped forward and said to the public, 'I'm not going to live in a closet anymore.' It's stuffy in there. And I'm not going to continue to live my life under a rock to protect your feelings. I'm going to live the way I want to, openly and proudly as a gay person.'"

(n_mcdonald@citypaper.net)

A memorial for Gittings is being planned for spring. Lahusen requests donations be made to Lambda Legal Defense Fund (120 Wall St., Ste. 1500, New York, N.Y. 10005, 212-809-8585, www.lambdalegal.org).