Sunday, April 30, 2006 | by nathan

It’s Just A Bumper Sticker

There is a house for sale on the street behind ours, and I am trying to get someone I know to buy it. I don’t have anyone in mind, really; it’s just that it’s such a cute house that I want to go over there all the time, and for that to happen, the easiest thing would be for someone I know to buy it. John looked at it and said it was too small. Then today I got Sara Gowdy to come over with Erica to look at it too; she also thought it was a bit small for her needs.

At any rate. Sara and Erica came over at 2, just as Cleveland Neighborhood’s annual "Spring Fling" was starting. This is one of the many, many block parties our neighborhood has every year.

As we were walking down to the gazebo at the center of the neighborhood, the one at the end of our street, I looked over at a car in the driveway of a house a few down from ours. On the back window was a bumper sticker something like this:

That’s not it exactly, but I think you get the picture. Erica said we should get a marker and draw a dress on the guy, too. Mostly, I was wondering where the nearest black market rocket grenade launcher might be.

It’s just a bumper sticker. Rationally, I know that. It’s just a stupid piece of paper with some stickum on it; also, it is someone saying that I am not as welcome as they are in this country, that my relationship is less important, less valuable, less authentic, and less human than theirs. For the first time, I felt that Brian and I were unwelcome - worse, unsafe - in our neighborhood.

"Overreacting much, Nathan? Can you not just see this challenge as a way to learn something about forgiveness?" Why, that is the loveliest possible thought you are having, isn’t it? I do not actually believe that we are unsafe in our neighborhood, but to see that kind of hatred spewing out at me from a bumper sticker, feeling that the person who slapped that shit on the back of the car probably got a kind of self-satisfied rush when he did it, and to know that people feel that they don’t need to know me at all in order to judge me, or to hate me, or deny me equal rights, or my basic human dignity; well. You go learn something about forgiveness; I’m going to learn something about gasoline and razor blades.

On the way back up the street Erica and Sara held hands and offered to mug in the offending car’s driveway. We all sat on the front porch for awhile and then headed out to Pearl’s Lakeside for margaritas. It was still bothering me, and Brian and I got to talking about it on the way home.

I think that the owner of the car does not actually live in the neighborhood, as I have never noticed the car or the offending sticker. Still bothers me, though; it’s such a hateful thing to have out there. Sure, people have a right to express themselves or their lovely little political beliefs in any way they see fit. Really. Brian tries very hard to be compassionate and understanding, and he said that some of the stickers on my car may be seen as aggressive or offensive to others; for example, my John Kerry sticker (I refuse to give up), or my HRC sticker, which would just a weird-looking yellow equals sign on a blue field if you didn’t know what it was. And, of course, my "Wake Forest Alumni" one, which is only offensive if you’re a Duke fan.

Brian tried to make the argument that the people with the sticker were probably as put-off and offended by my stickers - if they understood them - as I was by theirs. But I disagreed; none of my stuff is aggressive, hateful stuff that is basically designed to make an entire group of people feel like shit about themselves and their desire for equal rights and protection under the law.

I will never ask someone to change their beliefs, because I do not want anyone doing this to me. And I really, really do not believe in censorship. But why would you have something like that? Why would you think it’s a good idea - or, say, within the spirit of the Greatest Commandment - to go out of your way to express something that is so actively hateful, and that in all likelihood does not affect a single person that you actually know?

I know it’s just a bumper sticker, and the person who owns the car may not live here. But it made me feel unwelcome and unwanted on my own goddamn street, even if for a little while. And while I am just about the worst Christian that there is, I feel fairly certain that doing something that is so overtly hateful to gay people is probably not something that makes Jesus want to get out his pom-poms and cheer you on.

Disagree with me; fine. Think I’m a douche bag, fine. If you know me and feel that you can speak honestly, all of this is Okay with me. You go out of your way to send me or my people the message that we are not welcome - spend $4 on a bumper sticker that is more or less NIMBY all over again - and we have a problem. It’s just not one I know how to solve, though I am sure all this ‘righteous’ anger I’m feeling is not going to get me anywhere too productive if I follow it blindly.

Part of me wants to take them cookies, because I think that this would be something that Jesus or Mary or Dr. King might do; part of me wants to pour sugar and M-80’s in their gas tank.

Mostly I feel like Kathy Bates in that scene in Fried Green Tomatoes. Remember this one? She’s walking out of the grocery store and this guy just knocks all of the groceries out of her hands, then calls her a bitch instead of helping her pick them back up. She stands there, crying, saying "I don’t understand" over and over. I kinda feel like that. 

…And we’re praying: "Help me. Help me. Help me."