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But one issue that was not aired in this conservative county was the winner's sexual orientation. With her victory over District Attorney Paul Pfingst sealed, Judge Bonnie Dumanis of Superior Court will become the first openly gay prosecutor elected in the country, gay advocates say.
Judge Dumanis eked out her victory by about 3,500 votes of more than 570,000 cast in San Diego County. The race is nonpartisan, but it was no secret to the voters that she is a Democrat and he a moderate Republican. The same voters preferred the conservative Republican candidate for governor, Bill Simon Jr., by more than 11 percentage points over Gov. Gray Davis.
Judge Dumanis claimed victory this afternoon and addressed a question about her sexual orientation, saying, "My orientation doesn't have anything to do with the job and I don't intend it to have anything to do with the job.
"It is a part of me that I am proud of," she added. "And I do, by the way, have an agenda, and that is public safety."
Judge Dumanis's campaign manager, Kevin Tilden, said it was a mark of social progress that homosexuality was not an issue in the campaign, even in a city with so conservative a reputation.
"There was enough meat to chew on without getting into Bonnie's sexual orientation," said Mr. Tilden, who is also chairman of the Lesbian and Gay Men's Community Center of San Diego.
He said Judge Dumanis's margin of victory could have been provided by the gay neighborhoods Hillcrest and North Park, which voted overwhelmingly for her. But he said it was just as likely that her sexual orientation had cost her thousands of votes in the suburbs.
"We don't know if people even knew she was gay or lesbian," Mr. Tilden said. "We can't hypothesize. But this is a countywide election and you could ask whether being gay cost her more votes than it netted her."
Mr. Pfingst gained a solid reputation as a prosecutor in his eight years in office, winning nationwide notice for an impressive felony conviction rate, a large increase in collections of child support payments and innovative programs for victims of rape and other violent crimes.
He won a death sentence this year in the highly publicized prosecution of David Westerfield for the murder of 7-year-old Danielle van Dam.
But what was perceived as his imperious manner and numerous missteps in his 300-lawyer office hurt his re-election chances. Most damaging was a no-confidence vote last year by 68 percent of the members of his office. Deputy district attorneys said he had failed to enforce ethics codes in his office; one lawyer was prosecuted for running a real estate business out of the district attorney's office on government time, and several prominent cases were taken over by the state attorney general. Two female lawyers said they were demoted after returning from maternity leaves, accusing Mr. Pfingst of sex discrimination.
A United States customs inspector who declined to give his name said that virtually all his colleauges voted against Mr. Pfingst because of his reluctance to charge people who assaulted officers.
"A lot of times, the D.A. wouldn't prosecute even if we're holding our teeth in our hands," he said. "Everybody I work with, whether extremely liberal or extremely conservative, voted for
Dumanis."
Mr. Pfingst was also accused of planting a question about Judge Dumanis's mental health at a candidate forum during the primary campaign. She was forced to acknowledge that she attempted suicide in the 1980's after her sister's murder.
Judge Dumanis struck one of the most telling blows with a devastating television commercial featuring the parents of Stephanie Crowe, a 12-year-old girl from Escondido who was killed in January 1998. Mr. Pfingst's office charged her 14-year-old brother and two friends in the crime when evidence pointed to a drifter who was seen in the area the night of the killing. The charges against the boys were dropped a year later, and the transient is now awaiting trial. The Crowe family is suing the county.
Mr. Pfingst accused the judge of orchestrating a smear campaign against him for anti-Semitic remarks he was said to have made 17 years ago. A deputy in his office filed a discrimination suit against the county in September charging that Mr. Pfingst had used an ethnic slur in referring to a colleague in after-work comments with other young prosecutors. Judge Dumanis and her supporters gave copies of depositions in the case to reporters. Mr. Pfingst denied having made the comments but said he might have been present when a Jewish former colleague was ridiculed. Mr. Pfingst is Roman Catholic; Judge Dumanis is Jewish.
Mr. Pfingst did not raise Judge Dumanis's sexual orientation in the campaign, although in the final days he made frequent references to his wife and children and to his opponent's "lifestyle." Radio hosts and Christian conservatives carried on a relatively muted dialogue, but it never reached the level of ugliness seen in campaigns elsewhere.
"Nobody dared bring it up; it was as sotto voce as could be," said Samuel Popkin, a professor of political science at the University of California at San Diego. "What really decided the election was that Pfingst made a lot of enemies on his staff," Professor Popkin said. "And that never helps. When the other D.A.'s say, `We don't support you,' that's a very big slap in the face."
Mr. Viscusi gives real-world advice ?don't wear perfume to the job interview, it might remind the interviewer of his ex; buy one of those teeth-whitening kits and clean up your smile, it might make all the difference.
Periodically ?and more often lately ?he'll hear from gay listeners who are wondering how much of their personal lives to share at the office. "I tell them it's hard enough to find a job, let alone keep one," Mr. Viscusi says. "Why muddy the waters by bringing up something that has nothing to do with your ability to perform the job?
They may feel better about letting the secret out. But will they feel better when they don't get the jobs or recognition they want?"
The question comes in waves. He heard it a lot after the actress Ellen DeGeneres talked about her homosexuality, and more recently, after a similar declaration by Rosie O'Donnell. Those who call with this question, he says, "feel a dilemma about whether they should be true to themselves or keep things hidden. Often they're being pressured by a partner who feels hidden away, like the arguments some couples have about wearing a wedding ring. But it didn't help either Rosie or Ellen to tell America about their sexual preferences. One's sexuality has no place in the workplace."
He tells his callers all those things. What he doesn't tell them is that this is advice he has followed in his own life over the last two decades. Mr. Viscusi and his partner met in college and are still together ?a fact he has rarely mentioned in all these years at work.
His first job upon graduation in 1980 was as a salesman for a large furniture company. Although the design end of the furniture industry is "fairly accepting," he says, and although he was based in Manhattan, which is equally so, his particular employer was "a large, conservative, Midwestern-based company, and it was very clear to me that it was totally inappropriate to discuss anything about my personal life." Every December, he went to the holiday party alone. When he and his partner decided to rent a house on Fire Island, he told co-workers he would be vacationing on Block Island "because that sounded less overtly gay."
In time, Mr. Viscusi started his own business ?a head-hunting firm for the furniture and design industry. Business boomed, growing from 4 employees to 64. "Even though I owned the business, and I owned the corporate culture, I still didn't feel comfortable parading my private life in public," he said. Then, in the early 1990's, his industry crashed, and he segued into the world of job-hunting advice, creating his radio program, which is on more than 100 stations.
He realizes that his belief that gay men and lesbians should "not advertise their lives" at the office will rankle many who have fought for acceptance of all lifestyles. And he agrees that this is not the way the world should work, but is unquestionably the way it does work. A recent study by Witek-Combs Communications, for instance, found that more than 70 percent of Americans believe gay men and lesbians are discriminated against at work ?fired, harassed, denied promotion ?because of sexual orientation. Randy New, a lawyer specializing in employment discrimination, warns that homosexuals regularly face workplace discrimination "in ways that we would find disgusting if it were done to African-American employees, for example."
When I argue with Mr. Viscusi and suggest that the only way to chisel at discrimination is to step forward, not hide, he agrees. Then he reminds me that his callers are not asking advice on how to lead a crusade. They are wondering how to get or keep a particular job. And that goal, he says, won't be helped by "gabbing about inappropriate details of your life while you're at work." By that, he says, he means all employees, regardless of what the details are.
In other words, we should all show more discretion and leave chunks of our private lives back at home. There should be less gabbing about potty training or wedding planning or fertility charting at the water cooler (or in sound-permeable cubicles), thank you very much. "All this personal chatter is a distraction," explains Mr. Viscusi, who also rarely talks about his mother's death or his adopted son or a number of other nonworking matters while at work.
So why is he talking to me about this now, in this very public space? He says it is because he is hearing the question increasingly often and he suspects his listeners aren't listening when he answers. If a heterosexual career counselor gave this advice, he says, it would sound patronizing at best and hostile at worst. But because he's lived as he preaches, he hopes people will hear. "It's just common sense," he says. "Especially in a tight job market like this, why add something that could damage your prospects?"
In 1948, Mr. Hay would later write, homosexuals were "the one group of disadvantaged people who didn't even know they were a group." He set out to change that by organizing ?on the muscle beaches of Los Angeles, no less. At a time when any gathering of more than two homosexuals was a crime in California, Mr. Hay and a few friends created the first significant gay rights group in America, the Mattachine Society. When he died last week at the age of 90, he had lived long enough to see his impossible dream become an international movement.
Yet most gay people know little about Harry Hay. Even fewer know that his comrades, Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon, who founded the first American lesbian organization, Daughters of Bilitis, are still alive.
It is unlikely that these pioneers will be honored with a postage stamp. Gay and lesbian leaders have yet to find a place in the civil rights pantheon.
Why are the gay movement's roots so obscured? The reason is the invisibility of gay history. With rare exceptions, schools fail to acknowledge that there even is such a thing. Only university students who opt for elective courses ?if they are offered ?learn that, in the 1920's, gay liberation was an important part of Emma Goldman's radical agenda. You won't find that mentioned in the film "Reds," in which Goldman was a prominent character. Nor can you deduce from "Cabaret" (film or play) that gay people in the Weimar Republic did more than patronize kinky nightclubs. The gay community was a very visible part of Berlin's political landscape, and its leader Magnus Hirschfeld was an emblem of the liberal society that the Nazis smashed. The famous photo of storm troopers burning books is widely thought to have been taken at Mr. Hirschfeld's library.
The gay movement has produced a group of historians whose work is widely recognized in the academy. Yet their writing rarely reaches the classroom. As a result most people know very little about the lives of homosexuals before the Stonewall riot of 1969 and the civil-rights activism that grew out of it. Young people are far more likely to identify Ru Paul, the popular drag performer, than Harvey Milk, America's first openly gay elected official, who was assassinated in 1978.
The silence about gay history persists because teaching this subject raises anxieties about promoting homosexuality. Countless school boards have decided that young people must be protected from positive information about the gay community lest they be converted to that "lifestyle." Last month, the chancellor of Boston University, John Silber, closed down a a student club dedicated to bringing together gay and straight students at a high school academy affiliated with the university (and founded by Mr. Silber). According to a report in a Boston University student newspaper, Mr. Silber later said that many homosexuals come to their orientation "because that is the way in which they were first seduced into sex. Not because of anything else. And there's just no reason for us to encourage that."
Mr. Silber's stance has not gone without protest ?and similar so-called "gay-straight alliances" do exist in some 800 high schools. But support groups and lectures about preventing homophobic violence are just the first step toward presenting a full picture of gay and lesbian lives. No other group is subject to such a blackout of its past. This is a problem Harry Hay didn't live to see solved.
Richard Goldstein is executive editor of The Village Voice and author of "The Attack Queers: Liberal Society and the Gay Right."