Gayoral Mayoral

Do you recall when I said
I wanted to become the gay grand poobah of P-town? And how, over the period of just a few columns (Queer Window, Jan. 8-22), my idea to become mayor took off?

I was shocked that readers, colleagues--and even a couple of politicos--thought the idea of a queer columnist-turned-mayoral candidate was worthy of consideration. And for a couple of moments I contemplated doing a race. But then reality bit me in the ass.

Now, the reason I'm not running for mayor has little to do with personal decisions (unlike city commish Erik Sten) or that I have skeletons in my closet (that's a subject for future columns).

Truth is, I'm unqualified for the position. I have no idea what the job entails other than showing up at ribbon cuttings for our Pacific Rim sister cities. And as for that other writer who's running for mayor? Mercury Editor Phil Busse is just another white guy, a yuppie journalist milking the election for publicity for a Seattle/Chicago-owned publication that tries way too hard to be cool.

Some people might draw a parallel between two columnist candidates, but back when I declared my intentions, I also claimed that I intended to raise awareness about safety, self-empowerment and visibility, issues queers hold dear to their hearts.

And, behold, now I'm not the only one. I never thought I'd ever get a chance to vote for a queer candidate for Portland mayor. But with Vera stepping down, there are three openly gay dudes talking about signing up for the big race.

There's the mayor's former chief of staff, Sam Adams, and real-estate investor/reserve cop Robert Ball. And then there's bandleader Thomas Lauderdale, who claims to be having as much trouble declaring his political intentions as finishing the next Pink Martini album.

You also have Kate Brown, the bisexual state Senate Democratic leader, considering a run, and former Police Chief Tom Potter has declared his candidacy. His public career can be summed up in two sound bites: Potter was the first chief to walk in a Pride parade, and his daughter is one of the first openly lesbian cops on the force.

That's a lot of choices on the political gay-dar. And I'm glad I'm not one of them.

That said, getting the chance to get "behind" a gay mayor would be a dream come true. To live that dream, though, candidates need to start talking about their vision for all of Portland--queer and otherwise. And that vision must be informed by the fact they are comfortable in their own skin.

It's not going to be easy to be the first gay mayor of Portland. After all, coming out in a public election--even in a liberal, recycle-crazy town like ours--might not be much different from coming out as gay person. That's because it's often scary to tell people that you're different. Imagine having to tell an entire city not just once, but over and over again. Now imagine making a political point of those distinctions, at the same time you're trying to win the hearts of voters by reassuring them you'll represent their interests.

Of course, being gay isn't the only qualification that distinguishes these candidates. But, for the first time ever, sexuality could play a role in whom we pick to lead our city.

My dear queer candidates, the clock is ticking. It's time to come out. Don't let this truly queer opportunity pass you by.