In his column today, Mychal Massie, chairman of the National Leadership Network of Black Conservatives-Project 21, rejects the claim that homosexuality is a civil right, and is on a par with one's skin color:
Homosexuals and cross-dressers may in fact be a lot of things, but an oppressed minority they are not. And I, for one, resent their temerity in suggesting that a rejection of their chosen lifestyle is in any way equivalent to what truly oppressed peoples in this country went through for the right to vote, sit at a lunch counter and/or stay in the hotel of their choice.
Massie gives us a glimpse of what we could see if HR 2015 the Employment Nondiscrimination Act (ENDA) passes Congress:
In layman's terms, said lawyer-speak means, if ENDA becomes law (and I am in no way attempting to inject humor here), the branch manager of your local bank could, without fear of penalty, come to work looking like "Boy George in Liza Minnelli 1980s drag makeup, complete in his working girl commuter-friendly disco sneakers." And there wouldn't be a thing the bank could do or say about it – no matter how offended its customers might be or how uncomfortable it would make the other employees.
Passage of ENDA means that the surgeon scheduled to perform your operation could decide to do same in his blond wig with full mascara and his Playtex plus-size bra, and there wouldn't be a thing the hospital could say or do.
It means that your child's second-grade teacher could decide she was going to dress like a man, complete with makeup to simulate facial hair, and the school would have no recourse. And it goes without saying that the owner of a local Bible bookstore would be powerless to prevent a homosexual employee from holding hands with his or her homosexual lover within the workplace. Any attempt to prevent said behavior would result in immediate litigation.
Nice, huh?
None of us has the right to display our most depraved lusts and activities for the whole world to see, especially in the workplace. The workplace is a place for getting a certain job done, not broadcasting every sick proclivity that enters our heads.
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