Who is MassResistance, the far-right group behind anti-marriage equality resolutions?
Those resolutions being proposed in state legislatures urging the U.S. Supreme Court to overturn marriage equality aren't happening organically. Instead, they're the result of an orchestrated campaign by MassResistance, one of the most virulently anti-LGBTQ+ groups in existence. It has often equated homosexuality and bisexuality with pedophilia and bestiality, and it has long demonized transgender people.
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The group hasn't been in the news much in the past few years, but its presence has resurged with the anti-marriage equality resolutions. 'MassResistance has drafted text for state legislature resolutions that call on the U.S. Supreme Court to reverse its infamous and illegitimate Obergefell ruling,' says a post on the group's website. 'That 2015 decision forced the idea that the U.S. Constitution requires states to allow same-sex 'marriage.'' Yes, MassResistance is still putting 'marriage' in quotes when it comes to queer couples.
The resolutions have so far been introduced in five states — Idaho, Michigan, Montana, North Dakota, and South Dakota. Idaho is the only state to pass one to date; the resolutions failed in Montana and South Dakota and remain pending in the other states. MassResistance expects one to be introduced in Iowa as well. They are nonbinding — it would take a case getting to the high court for it to reconsider the marriage equality decision — but MassResistance sees the measures as 'an important public message' that 'can create positive momentum across the country,' according to its website.
But just who is MassResistance? Here we take a look at the group's history.
The organization now known as MassResistance was founded in 1995 as the Parents' Rights Coalition. It's based in Waltham, Mass. — yes, in one of the most liberal and LGBTQ-friendly states in the nation. It has chapters in numerous other states and has worked with anti-LGBTQ+ activists around the world. Brian Camenker has been its director since its founding. In 1996, as president of another group, the Interfaith Coalition of Massachusetts, he led efforts to draft a bill requiring that parents in the state be notified if their children's schools are offering sex education.
But MassResistance was just getting started. Things really ramped up in 2003, when the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled in favor of marriage equality. The Parents' Rights Coalition changed its name to Article 8 Alliance, a reference to Article 8 of the Massachusetts Declaration of Rights, a part of the state constitution establishing the people's right to recall elected officials. But the course opponents of marriage equality took was to try to amend the Massachusetts constitution to nullify the ruling, an effort backed by then-Gov. Mitt Romney. MassResistance refers to this period as the ''gay marriage' crisis.' At any rate, the state did not amend its constitution, and same-sex couples began marrying when the ruling went into effect May 17, 2004.
'We adopted the name MassResistance in 2006 when our role as the true resistance to tyrannical government became clear,' the organization's website says. 'Since we were in the first state to see homosexual activism in the schools and 'gay marriage,' we thoroughly understood the threat of sexual radicalism, curtailed freedom of speech, uneven application of the law, judicial activism, and post-constitutional government.'
During 2006 and 2007, MassResistance sought to have the 1996 law on sex education amended so that parents would be notified of any discussion of gay and lesbian issues in schools. 'The group proposed language that lumped sexual orientation (which includes heterosexuality, homosexuality and bisexuality) in with criminal behaviors like bestiality and polygamy,' notes the Southern Poverty Law Center, which has labeled MassResistance a hate group. 'During legislative testimony supporting the amendment, Camenker falsely claimed that no homosexuals died in the Holocaust and that the pink triangle the Nazis forced imprisoned gays to wear actually signified Catholic priests. The amendment did not pass.'
MassResistance has often attacked GLSEN (formerly the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network), including with a claim that it was distributing a booklet with instructions on gay sexual activities to students in fifth through ninth grades. This allegation was featured in a 2011 documentary from another anti-LGBTQ+ hate group, the Family Research Council, with FRC leader Tony Perkins calling it 'the most vile assault on teenagers ever concocted by homosexual activists.' However, the booklet, on how to have safer sex, was produced by the AIDS Action Committee of Massachusetts and was intended for gay men 18 and older. Fenway Community Health took a few to a 2005 GLSEN conference held at a high school, then acknowledged it was a mistake (the conference banned sexually explicit material) and said apparently no students picked up the booklet.
MassResistance has a history of opposing antibullying and safe schools programs by claiming they're 'promoting' homosexuality. It has also condemned the Governor's Commission on Gay and Lesbian Youth, started under Massachusetts Gov. William Weld in 1992, and now an independent agency called the Massachusetts Commission on LGBTQ Youth. When the T was added in the early 2000s, MassResistance denounced the commission as 'pushing transgenderism.'
Camenker went on a conservative radio show in 2012 to claim that LGBTQ+ inclusion efforts at the FBI and CIA meant that queer people had taken control of those agencies and would use them against Christians — well, right-wing Christians. One weapon, he said, would be the Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr., Hate Crimes Prevention Act, a federal law passed under President Barack Obama in 2009. 'When an individual describes himself as being gay or lesbian, transgender or something, invariably that person is hostile to the pro-family position and is vigorous about pushing the entire agenda,' Camenker said on the Crosstalk show. 'We've seen that in the schools, we've seen that all over the place. We're really scared about the FBI being this out homosexual organization.' But anti-LGBTQ+ churches and organizations remain in operation — the U.S. still has freedom of speech and religion — and Camenker's probably very pleased with Donald Trump's anti-diversity efforts.
During the first Trump administration, however, even far-right Secretary of State Mike Pompeo wasn't anti-LGBTQ+ enough to satisfy MassResistance. In 2018, the group denounced Pompeo for declaring Pride Month at the State Department and issuing a statement in support of the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia. 'He gave credence to the radical ideology deeming all forms of sexual and 'gender' expression 'human rights' and that any disagreement is irrational or hateful,' said a post by Amy Contrada on the MassResistance website.
Among MassResistance's other 'greatest hits' was Camenker's discussion with fellow anti-LGBTQ+ activist Linda Harvey on her Mission: America radio show in 2013. He claimed that antigay crimes are often caused by 'revulsion' at, for instance, the sight of two men kissing, and he asserted that there are few elite gay athletes because of 'the psychological issues that are going through you in the homosexual lifestyle.' He said elite athletes need a high level of stability and alertness, and apparently LGBTQ+ people don't have that. Oh, maybe they just need a better environment in which to come out?
MassResistance has also promoted so-called conversion therapy and objected to state laws preventing its use on minors, and it has denounced the 1973 decision by the American Psychiatric Association to remove homosexuality from its list of mental disorders. The group was a big supporter of Roy Moore, the homophobic and now-disgraced Alabama politician who ran unsuccessfully for U.S. Senate and lost his post on the state's Supreme Court. MassResistance members have recently taken on such popular far-right causes as protesting drag queen story hours, trying to get LGBTQ-themed books out of public libraries, and generally demonizing trans people as delusional and dangerous.
As noted previously, those resolutions are nonbinding. For the Supreme Court to reconsider marriage equality, a case would have to come to it. But the infamous Kim Davis is trying to set one up.
In 2015, Davis, as clerk of Rowan County, Ky., refused to comply with the Obergefell v. Hodges decision, which she said went against her religious beliefs. Her office was responsible for issuing marriage licenses, but she shut down all marriage license operations to avoid serving same-sex couples. She even went to jail briefly for defying a judge's order to resume issuing licenses without discrimination. Eventually, she decided to allow her deputies to serve same-sex couples, and then Kentucky changed its marriage license form so that it does not include the county clerk's name. This satisfied the religious exemption that Davis said she wanted. She was voted out of office in 2018.
But the drama wasn't over. One of the couples to whom Davis denied a license, David Ermold and David Moore, sued her and won. They have been trying to collect the damages a jury awarded them, and last week the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit ruled that yes, Davis has to pay. She and her lawyers at Liberty Counsel hope to get the case to the Supreme Court and overturn Obergefell, a possibility with the court's 6-3 conservative majority, and given that far-right Justices Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito have expressed a desire to overturn it. But maybe a couple of the court's four other conservatives would side with the liberals.
If Obergefell does fall, states could still offer and recognize same-sex marriages. The Respect for Marriage Act, signed into law by President Joe Biden in 2022, writes the rights to same-sex marriage and interracial marriage into federal law, assuring that the U.S. government will recognize these marriages and that all states will recognize those performed in other states. It forbids anyone acting under a state law to discriminate based on the gender or race of a married couple. However, it does not require any state to allow same-sex marriages to be performed, so there would probably be a patchwork of laws among states. And who knows, the Republicans in control of Congress could try to repeal the Respect for Marriage Act, but a few Republicans voted for it, and marriage equality is popular. Even Trump has said he considers it settled law, although who can trust him?
At any rate, Rutgers Law School professor Kimberly Mutcherson has said it would be hard to get a case to the Supremes. 'There would have to be a constitutional case that got litigated,' she recently told The Washington Post. 'There would have to be conflict among circuits that allow the case to wind up to the Supreme Court. That is the kind of thing that takes years.'
In the meantime, though, it pays to keep an eye on MassResistance and its ilk.
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Yahoo
24 minutes ago
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Religion cases spark both unanimity and division at Supreme Court
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CNN
an hour ago
- CNN
As World Pride celebrates steps from the White House, LGBTQ pioneers call for a return to the movement's roots in protest
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'They've never watched someone die of AIDS … They don't have that visceral, deep understanding that comes when you witness it.' If they did, Jones said, they would be just as outraged as he is by recent moves from the Trump administration to slash funding for HIV/AIDS research and services both at home and abroad – and moved to action. Jones, who remains a lifelong activist and advocate for gay rights, said 'misinformation and mythic legends' have been built up around leaders and locations that became central to LGBTQ history in the US. But distilling their lives down to bullet points does them a disservice, Jones said, because it obscures the fact that gay rights pioneers like Harvey Milk were also just regular people who were bold enough to take a stand. 'Harvey was this kind of odd guy, you know, this skinny, gay, Jewish guy from New York,' Jones recalled of the man who became his mentor and friend. 'I would go with him on campaign stops and he could talk to anybody. I would watch the way he changed his tone and his vocabulary and focused on finding common ground.' Milk, Jones said, forced people to discover their shared humanity, and in doing so, he was able to make change. Milk was assassinated in 1978. Jones said he's tried to infuse Milk's values into his lifelong career of activism. But lately, he said, his work has been guided by the mantra, 'If you take it for granted, they will take it away.' 'If you're going to change the world, it starts with the hearts and minds of individuals,' he said. But, he added, people don't need permission or a permit to challenge prejudice. 'You've got a permit. It's called the Constitution.' Kuntzler joined a group called Mattachine Society at the height of the 'Lavender Scare' – a period of intense, government-led, anti-gay discrimination that grew out of the witch hunt for 'communists' during the McCarthy era. In 1953, President Dwight D. Eisenhower signed an executive order that banned homosexuals from working for the federal government and the military. Those who were outed would not only lose their jobs, but their names were often published in newspapers, which could cost them their families and their livelihoods. 'It was not unusual to come home from work and find two members of Naval Intelligence on your doorstep asking you to come down to the Navy Yard for questioning,' Kuntzler recalled. His longtime partner, Stephen Brent Miller, was once interrogated for information about one of their friends, he said. The Mattachine Society was initially founded in secret in 1950 to fight for the rights of 'homophiles,' but it would go on to become one of the earliest and more consequential gay rights groups in the nation. By the time Kuntzler joined its Washington, DC, chapter in 1962, the organization was gearing up to take a more visible stand against the government's treatment of gays. Frank Kameny, the society's co-founder, organized the first picket line for gay rights in front of the White House. 'When I got there, I looked across the street to see that there were like 30 news photographers waiting for the light to change,' Kuntzler recalled. 'I was so unnerved by that, I kept hiding my face behind my picket.' Inspired by the fight for civil rights, Kuntzler said the group continued to protest throughout the year in front of the Pentagon and Independence Hall in Philadelphia. They later filed several lawsuits challenging the government's blatant discrimination against homosexual federal employees. Kuntzler would go on to play a quiet but critical role in key moments of the gay rights movement for decades to come. Kameny, who was fired from his job in the US Army because he was gay, campaigned to become the first openly gay member of Congress. Kuntzler was his campaign manager. Kuntzler also co-founded what became the Gay and Lesbian Activists Alliance and was the founding member of the Human Rights Campaign. But by far his greatest achievement, Kuntzler said, was loving his partner, Stephen, openly for more than 40 years before he died. Despite the looming threats from the Trump administration, Kuntzler said he remains optimistic. 'I've seen all this,' he said of the attacks by the government. 'We couldn't conceive back in the '60s that we'd make so much progress – that we'd be able to work in government, there would be elected officials who were openly gay, and we couldn't conceive of the idea of marriage equality.' They couldn't imagine it, he said, but they fought for it anyway.

Associated Press
an hour ago
- Associated Press
As a generation of gay and lesbian people ages, memories of worse — and better — times swirl
WASHINGTON (AP) — David Perry recalls being young and gay in 1980s Washington D.C. and having 'an absolute blast.' He was fresh out of college, raised in Richmond, Virginia, and had long viewed the nation's capital as 'the big city' where he could finally embrace his true self. He came out of the closet here, got a job at the National Endowment for the Arts where his boss was a gay Republican, and 'lost my virginity in D.C. on August 27, 1980,' he says, chuckling. The bars and clubs were packed with gay men and women — Republican and Democrat — and almost all of them deep in the closet. 'There were a lot of gay men in D.C., and they all seemed to work for the White House or members of Congress. It was kind of a joke. This was pre-Internet, pre-Facebook, pre-all of that. So people could be kind of on the down-low. You would run into congresspeople at the bar,' Perry says. 'The closet was pretty transparent. It's just that no one talked about it.' He also remembers a billboard near the Dupont Circle Metro station with a counter ticking off the total number of of AIDS deaths in the District of Columbia. 'I remember when the number was three,' says Perry, 63. Now Perry, a public relations professional in San Francisco, is part of a generation that can find itself overshadowed amidst the after-parties and DJ sets of World Pride, which wraps up this weekend with a two-day block party on Pennsylvania Avenue. Advocates warn of a quiet crisis among retirement-age LGBTQ+ people and a community at risk of becoming marginalized inside their own community. 'It's really easy for Pride to be about young people and parties,' says Sophie Fisher, LGBTQ program coordinator for Seabury Resources for Aging, a company that runs queer-friendly retirement homes and assisted-living facilities and which organized a pair of Silver Pride events last month for LGBTQ+ people over age 55. These were 'the first people through the wall' in the battle for gay rights and protections, Fisher says. Now, 'they kind of get swept under the rug.' Loneliness and isolation The challenges and obstacles for elderly LGBTQ+ people can be daunting. 'We're a society that really values youth as is. When you throw in LGBTQ on top of that, it's a double whammy,' says Christina Da Costa of the group SAGE — Services and Advocacy for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Elders. 'When you combine so many factors, you have a population that's a lot less likely to thrive than their younger brethren.' Older LGBTQ+ people are far more likely to have no contact with their family and less likely to have children to help care for them, Da Costa says. Gay men over 60 are the precise generation that saw their peer group decimated by AIDS. The result: chronic loneliness and isolation. 'As you age, it becomes difficult to find your peer group because you don't go out to bars anymore,' says Yvonne Smith, a 73-year-old D.C. resident who moved to Washington at age 14. 'There are people isolated and alone out there.' These seniors are also often poorer than their younger brethren. Many were kicked out of the house the moment they came out of the closet, and being openly queer or nonbinary could make you unemployable or vulnerable to firing deep into the 1990s. 'You didn't want to be coming out of a gay bar, see one of your co-workers or one of your students,' Smith says. 'People were afraid that if it was known you were gay, they would lose their security clearance or not be hired at all.' In April, founders cut the ribbon on Mary's House, a new 15-unit living facility for LGBTQ+ seniors in southeast Washington. These kind of inclusive senior-care centers are becoming an increasing priority for LGBTQ+ elders. Rayceen Pendarvis, a D.C. queer icon, performer and presenter, says older community members who enter retirement homes or assisted-living centers can face social isolation or hostility from judgmental residents. 'As we age, we lose our peers. We lose our loved ones and some of us no longer have the ability to maintain our homes,' says Pendarvis, who identifies as 'two-spirit' and eschews all pronouns. 'Sometimes they go in, and they go back into the closet. It's very painful for some.' A generation gap Perry and others see a clear divide between their generation and the younger LGBTQ+ crowd. Younger people, Perry says, drink and smoke a lot less and do much less bar-hopping in the dating-app age. Others can't help but gripe a bit about how these youngsters don't know how good they have it. 'They take all these protections for granted,' Smith says. The younger generation 'got comfortable,' Pendarvis says, and sometimes doesn't fully understand the multigenerational fight that came before. 'We had to fight to get the rights that we have today,' Pendarvis said. 'We fought for a place at the table. We CREATED the table!' Now that fight is on again as President Donald Trump's administration sets the community on edge with an open culture war targeting trans protections and drag shows, and enforcing a binary view of gender identity. The struggle against that campaign may be complicated by a quiet reality inside the LGBTQ+ community: These issues remain a topic of controversy among some LGBTQ+ seniors. Perry said he has observed that some older lesbians remain leery of trans women; likewise, he said, some older gay men are leery of the drag-queen phenomenon. 'There is a good deal of generational sensitivity that needs to be practiced by our older gay brethren,' he says. 'The gender fluidity that has come about in the last 15 years, I would be lying if I said I didn't have to adjust my understanding of it sometimes.' Despite the internal complexities, many are hoping to see a renewed sense of militancy and street politics in the younger LGBTQ+ generation. Sunday's rally and March for Freedom, starting at the Lincoln Memorial, is expected to be particularly defiant given the 2025 context. 'I think we're going to see a whole new era of activism,' Perry says. 'I think we will find our spine and our walking shoes – maybe orthopedic – and protest again. But I really hope that the younger generation helps us pick up this torch.'