Looked evil in the face and laughed.
This morning I went with my brothers down to Clarence Center to stand outside in the freezing cold for solidarity. The Westboro Baptist Church was scheduled to stand outside the memorial service at the Clarence Center coffee house with their "God Hates (insert just about anything here)" propaganda. Groups of veterans, Christians, and other residents gathered into counter protest groups to block them off from the mourners. Dan, Alex, and I were among them. I was a bit uneasy about going at first. I've known for a long time about how hatefully the WBC people behave, and the horrible things they've shouted and carried on signs. I didn't know if I had the moral strength to spend an hour looking right into the face of pure evil without losing control and letting my emotions run high.
Dan and I joined a group that insisted symbolically (and inconveniently to us) that we all wear enormous angel wings made out of plastic piping and white garbage bags. Unfortunately it was a windy morning, so we spent a lot of time in the parking lot being blown around, having our wings bump into things, break or tear apart, and having to be taped up and reassembled again. It was cold, uncomfortable, and I couldn't help but feel a little ridiculous, especially since there were other counter protesters there in different groups that didn't have to wear wings. I wore a good coat, a shirt and a tie, a nice outfit that went to waste since the people in charge covered us in white plastic from head to toe. It was rough, especially when we had to walk down the block against the wind, but we were determined.
When we finally got to the coffee house and lined up along the side of the street, we saw a lot of police cars, several large white banners and American flags, and an overall huge turnout of people ready to face off against the "God Hates Fags" people. We were prepared for the worst. Warned not to speak or harass them no matter what they said or did. Warned about just how unpleasant they could get and what they could do if they felt their rights were violated. Then we realized that only 3 people from the WBC had showed up. Only three. And the police had made them stand on the opposite side of the street from us and prohibited them from shouting anything. They were powerless. Over 200 of us against 3 of them. Each of them had to hold up 3 or 4 signs at a time. Next to us as a community, their pathetic slogans of "Fags Doom the Nation", "God Hates Obama", "Don't Worship the Dead", and even "When Planes Crash, God Laughs" seemed weak, empty, and even laughable.
And laugh we did. Our solemn group of angels became social with each other. Angry complaints about Fred Phelps turned into jokes. Mourning neighbors that cried and grimmaced at the tasteless messages on their signs took comfort in our strength and the haters' weakness. One of the veterans led the crowd in the Pledge of Allegiance. Passing drivers waved to us and blared their horns at the unwelcome three. We shivered and felt our toes freezing in the snow, but we didn't mind. Not even our flimsy, awkward makeshift wings could lessen our feelings of goodness and power in our unity. And then, seemingly as quickly as they had arrived, the Westboro Baptists left. They packed up their signs, got into their car and began to drive away. We all broke into loud applause. Some laughed and jeered. One threw a snowball at their car window as they drove off.
The memorial gathering had ended with great feelings of love, triumph, and optimism. There were congratulations and well wishings all around. Neither the weather, nor the time, nor the messages of hate, could diminish the spirits of a community bound together. Yesterday, I was afraid of looking into the face of evil. Today my brothers and I smiled confidently in their faces and would do it again.
Dan and I joined a group that insisted symbolically (and inconveniently to us) that we all wear enormous angel wings made out of plastic piping and white garbage bags. Unfortunately it was a windy morning, so we spent a lot of time in the parking lot being blown around, having our wings bump into things, break or tear apart, and having to be taped up and reassembled again. It was cold, uncomfortable, and I couldn't help but feel a little ridiculous, especially since there were other counter protesters there in different groups that didn't have to wear wings. I wore a good coat, a shirt and a tie, a nice outfit that went to waste since the people in charge covered us in white plastic from head to toe. It was rough, especially when we had to walk down the block against the wind, but we were determined.
When we finally got to the coffee house and lined up along the side of the street, we saw a lot of police cars, several large white banners and American flags, and an overall huge turnout of people ready to face off against the "God Hates Fags" people. We were prepared for the worst. Warned not to speak or harass them no matter what they said or did. Warned about just how unpleasant they could get and what they could do if they felt their rights were violated. Then we realized that only 3 people from the WBC had showed up. Only three. And the police had made them stand on the opposite side of the street from us and prohibited them from shouting anything. They were powerless. Over 200 of us against 3 of them. Each of them had to hold up 3 or 4 signs at a time. Next to us as a community, their pathetic slogans of "Fags Doom the Nation", "God Hates Obama", "Don't Worship the Dead", and even "When Planes Crash, God Laughs" seemed weak, empty, and even laughable.
And laugh we did. Our solemn group of angels became social with each other. Angry complaints about Fred Phelps turned into jokes. Mourning neighbors that cried and grimmaced at the tasteless messages on their signs took comfort in our strength and the haters' weakness. One of the veterans led the crowd in the Pledge of Allegiance. Passing drivers waved to us and blared their horns at the unwelcome three. We shivered and felt our toes freezing in the snow, but we didn't mind. Not even our flimsy, awkward makeshift wings could lessen our feelings of goodness and power in our unity. And then, seemingly as quickly as they had arrived, the Westboro Baptists left. They packed up their signs, got into their car and began to drive away. We all broke into loud applause. Some laughed and jeered. One threw a snowball at their car window as they drove off.
The memorial gathering had ended with great feelings of love, triumph, and optimism. There were congratulations and well wishings all around. Neither the weather, nor the time, nor the messages of hate, could diminish the spirits of a community bound together. Yesterday, I was afraid of looking into the face of evil. Today my brothers and I smiled confidently in their faces and would do it again.