For those living through the summer of 1969, its epochal moments seemed to be Chappaquiddick, the moon landing, Woodstock. But in terms of American social history, the most important event of those steamy months a quarter-century ago may have been a largely unreported street clash, in the early-morning hours of June 28, between police and the homosexual clientele of an unlicensed New York City bar, the Stonewall Inn. The brief uprising inspired a gay civil rights movement that until then had few public adherents and scant hope of success. It launched a social revolution that is still changing the way Americans see many of their most basic institutions -- family, church, schools, the military, media and culture, among them. A group long dismissed as deviant or perverted or simply beneath mention has been able to claim a sizable space in national life, to the joy of its members and the continuing consternation of many fellow citizens. Declaring oneself to be gay is no longer an automatic admission that psychotherapy is needed or an abandonment of all hopes for family and career. Increasingly, especially for young Americans, it is seen as a straightforward matter of self-expression and identity.
That change is particularly striking given the relative newness of the gay movement: it is hard to trace significant activity back much further than the 1950s, whereas the civil rights movements for blacks and women took shape in the 19th century and needed far longer to attain their basic goals. The rapid pace of change for gays owes much to the trails blazed by blacks and women, and the success of those groups gives gays hope that in a generation or so they will have attained full acceptance as just another piece fitting into the mosaic of national life.
Yet for every gay success, there is a countervailing setback. For every invitation, there is a rebuff. If the view over the past quarter-century suggests that gay progress is inevitable, the picture today suggests that gays may instead be, as their opponents argue, a unique case rather than just another minority group. Far from continuing toward inclusion, gays may already be bumping up against the limits of tolerance. When Americans were polled by TIME/CNN last week, about 65% thought homosexual rights were being paid too much attention. Strikingly, those who described homosexuality as morally wrong made up exactly the same proportion -- 53% -- as in a poll in 1978, before a decade and a half of intense gay activism.
In jubilant moments like those planned this week in New York City -- the Gay Games, an athletic gathering with more registered participants than the Barcelona Olympics; a companion cultural festival; and a Stonewall commemorative parade on Sunday, June 26, that is expected to attract hundreds of thousands of unafraid, unashamed marchers -- it can seem that the gay struggle has already succeeded, or at least that its eventual triumph is ensured. Everywhere one looks, there are signs of gay acceptability unimaginable to the dreamiest of Stonewall patrons.