‘I am a gay American, and I am a second-class citizen’

Honoring the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall riots in New York City on June 28, 1969, Bloomington residents Lillie Aydt and her group Gay Recruiters led Bloomington’s first-ever sit-in for marriage equality Thursday at the Monroe County Justice Building downtown. The Stonewall riots occurred when members of the LGBT community in Greenwich Village at the Stonewall Inn fought back against the
oppression they faced from various government-sponsored systems.

Gay Recruiters was formed in response to the Proposition 8 Supreme Court decision, which upheld the illegality of same-sex marriage in California and thus established what Aydt called “an Orwellian precedent, allowing certain gay citizens more rights than others.”

Preparing for
the sit-in

The day before the sit-in, members of the Gay Recruiters gathered in Rachael’s Cafe on Third Street to make signs saying “God Loves Fags” and “Every Wedding Should Be Fabulous.”

Bloomington resident and Gay Recruiters member Linda Zambanini draped a rainbow flag across the round table Aydt was sitting at.

“Every conversation to be had about equality deserves to be recognized by the symbolism of this flag,” she said.

Zambanini fronted the Lesbian Liberation Organization in Bloomington during the 1970s. The group was centered on radical politics, or as Aydt said, “getting a social movement back out into the streets.”

Zambanini said she was inspired to join Aydt’s cause when she met her at the May
Proposition 8 protest downtown and heard about the Gay Recruiters.

Aydt appointed her to the position of “National Secretary of Rabble-rousing” once a Bloomington sit-in was approved.

Zambanini put her “rabble-rousing” skills to use following the downtown protest and e-mailed Aydt with the idea of conducting a sit-in with the Gay Recruiters after she saw videos on YouTube and Facebook of similar demonstrations in Denver and San Diego.


We shall
overcome

The next day at 9:30 a.m., Lillie Aydt arrived with her partner Hilary Aydt and sat down on the granite steps outside the justice building.

Lillie Aydt wore a green-and-white polka dot dress and a smile as Hilary Aydt pinned white knots to the both of them.

Later, other followers arrived adorning the same knots.

They symbolized the advocacy of marriage equality for all citizens and became a national campaign in February when Dustin Lance Black, the openly gay screenwriter
of the film “Milk,” wore one when he accepted his Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay.

Lillie Aydt said her politics align with radical yet peaceful demonstration methods of civil rights activists such as Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, and she jokingly referred to herself as “Lillie X.”

“You could be the Betty to my Malcolm,” she said, holding Hilary Aydt’s hand.

Lillie Aydt looked at the police officers gathered in front of the building.

“I’m not afraid,” she said. “But it is nice to see we have support from cops when 40 years ago we were beaten in the streets.”

More protesters arrived, including residents Renee Reed and Erica Romeo, who were wearing white wedding dresses.

Romeo, who is in a heterosexual relationship, said she told her partner she wouldn’t marry him until marriage was made legal for everyone. He agreed.

Zambanini arrived and hugged Lillie Aydt.

“You guys look so beautiful from here!” she shouted to the gathering crowd about 10 a.m..

People seized their signs and held them in the air as passersby expressed sentiments ranging from horn-honking in support to a man in overalls glaring at the crowd as he crossed the street.

Camera crews and reporters from Indianapolis’ RTV6 and Bloomington’s WTIU and The Herald Times arrived to hear Lillie Aydt address the crowd with a personal statement and letters of support from Bloomington Mayor Mark Kruzan and Bloomington City Councilwoman Susan Sandberg.

Dissenter Bruce Anderson stood at the top of the stairs of the justice building wearing a homemade white T-shirt with the words “Abortion, Baby Killers, Obama, Supported by his taxes, an Hitler style government” scrawled on it in black marker.

Anderson gestured to the officers nearby and then nodded in the direction of the protesters.

“The gays already have their rights because of someone willing to stand in defense for these types of protests,” he said, citing God as his inspiration. “If they don’t believe that, they should be overseas killing each other.”

The crowd proceeded to the stairs and entered the justice building. Bloomington resident Stephanie Burks, who wore a black button-down and a tie made of rainbow beads, held hands with Reed and entered the city clerk’s office to apply for a marriage license.

“You know the laws in Indiana, right?” a secretary asked them amidst camera flashes.
The first law in the Indiana Code concerning issuance of marriage licenses reads, “Same sex marriages prohibited.”

“It’s interesting that it’s the very first thing you see,” Reed said. “Can I at least look at the paperwork for filling out a license application?”

They were denied.

Burks said she was surprised at how abrupt the process was.

“It’s ridiculous,” Reed said. “You can change the laws. We’re both legal age. We just happen to be the same gender.”


Cindy’s story

Cindy Bradley sat cross-legged in the doorway of the voter registration room across the hallway and adjacent to the city clerk’s office with a rainbow flag draped around her shoulders.

Bradley said for years she has volunteered many hours during voter registration periods around election time.  

She was inspired by Harlan Booker, the recently deceased Bloomington Democratic voter registrar, to have what she called a “one-woman sit-in.”   

Bradley said Booker had been in a 45-year relationship with a man named Jack Davis.

“I wanted to do something personal for my friend and the countless others who can’t be married because of their orientation,” she said. “This isn’t just a ‘gay rights’
issue. Straight people need to be concerned as well.”


‘Let freedom ring’

Back in the city clerk’s office, Lillie Aydt and supporters Jurion Jaffe, Aaron Casper and Zambanini stood in a circle.

“We’d like to stand in front of the counter,” Aydt said when asked to move.

At 10:45 a.m., the group began to chant in unison, “1138 rights denied, I am a gay American and I am a second-class citizen,” and passed around a stack of papers – descriptions of the federal rights denied to gay Americans, not just concerning marriage.

Next to Lillie Aydt was a heterosexual couple, applying for a license. The man turned to Lillie Aydt and said, “This is a sacred union,” to which she responded, “I know this is special for you, but would you like to join in the voice of those who can’t cherish what you have?”

“No, thank you,” the man replied.

“I love the ‘Let Freedom Ring’ sign,” Reed said, pointing at a sign hanging up above Lillie Aydt.

Hilary Aydt stood outside the office looking on, shaking her head.
“Say someone had to get married tonight,” she said. “Well, you can have a ceremony, but why is there no recognition? God forbid you can’t see your spouse if he or she gets hurt. We just can’t come in after the honeymoon and get a license.”

Monroe County Clerk Jim Fielder expressed support for the Gay Recruiters’ cause, coming from around the counter and shaking hands with Lillie Aydt. She pinned a white knot to his shirt amongst cheers and chatter.

When the group finished reading the rights denied them, Reed and Burks, dressed as bride and groom, tossed a bouquet made of red, white and blue plastic flowers, which Lillie Aydt caught.