Thoughts on Milk

My friend Shelby told me that when she went to see Milk she was determined not to cry, so whenever she felt tears start to mist from her eyes she defiantly pulled them back inside. However, when the film was over and she rose from her seat a stream of water poured from her nose. We both thought this was kind of cool. Recently, I went to see the film again, similarly intending to contain my emotional reaction to the film. Wouldn't you know it, at the end of the film I rose from my seat and a small reservoir of water flowed from my nose. While only a minor phenomenon, I found this nose/leaky thing reassuring. As powerful and difficult as emotions tend to be, it's nice to know they still follow certain logical patterns: brief consistent spurts or all at once, emotions will find expression regardless of the effort to manage or block them.

The emotional history of our collective community has been one of spurts: Inconsistent bursts from behind walls of prejudice, pain, and perseverance. We treated these walls as a castle and created a kingdom from within them, but now too many of us have recognized these walls as a form of prison, and we're breaking through and on the march with a man 30 years in the grave leading and uniting us with greater efficacy than HRC and the rest of the establishment gate keepers combined. I'm not sure how the arc of justice will continue its upward swing, but I know it will do so on a flood of emotion that will tear down the walls that are the only true obstacle to its trajectory. I can feel it.