What do you do after you've won ...

 I’ve been pondering this for a while.  

Because it appears to be a very real problem for would-be social justice warriors and assorted activists who can’t seem to grasp that they’ve already won what they were fighting for. 

And almost nobody is trying to take back what they’ve won. I think a lot of us have been wondering for quite some time why they continue fighting ever more vehemently for things they already have. It’s as if they can’t accept a victory on the bigger issues. 

Maybe that’s why they increasingly focus on what to most Americans are relatively meaningless and inconsequential things.  Like issues that affect a minute portion of the population.  Or things most of us really don’t care all that much about. 

Mainly because we realize those things – the bigger things – have already been resolved.  And accepted by most folks. 

I suppose if your entire life is built on being angry about something, anything, it must be difficult to give that up.  If you lose your “cause,” and your righteous indignation, because you’ve won, what do you have left? What gets you up in the morning and makes you feel alive if there’s no longer a purpose for your anger? And there’s really nothing important to be angry about anymore?  

Maybe your anger over your cause was the defining aspect of your life.  You felt like part of something. Part of a larger group. You belonged to a club of other angry people that embraced you. And it felt so virtuous because you deep-down felt you were important. 

As long as whatever you did was for the cause, it was righteous.  Now, that’s gone.  But you really miss the excitement of lashing out against whatever.  You’ve lost a part of your identity. 

This has been a very difficult transition for a lot of people.  

The answer for many has been to invent new and increasingly weird causes to fight for to get that old feeling back.  That fire of anger within. That outrage. That reason to attack anew. 

Consider the plight of some gay rights extremists as an example.  

The gay community fought relentlessly for years against job and housing discrimination, for the right to marry, and for acceptance. They won.  Their basic rights were codified and enforced. That part’s over.  Instead of celebrating their win, a small yet highly vocal group of gays became increasingly provocative over issues most other gays frankly didn’t want to be identified with.  

Issues that in some cases were absolutely repellent to most Americans, including significant segments of the gay community, especially when imposed on children. Like having drag queens perform simulated sex and various suggestive routines in front of children.  Like having naked men, or others flaunting giant prop vaginas, as part of a public “pride” parade attended by families. The gay community has won a lot of well-earned rights. But being an obnoxious asshole for no apparent reason except to shock isn't one of them.

Or encouraging teachers in public schools to present materials to those as young as six to learn about blowjobs, anal sex, masturbation, and the use of sex toys.

I suspect most gays don’t approve of meddling with children, much less experimenting on them or trying to convince kids before they even hit puberty that they are gay or transgendered.  Sure, they’d like to protect gay adolescents from ostracism and bullying, as would any responsible adult.  But they are being overshadowed by a relatively small number of extremists.  

There’s an enormous risk for the overall gay community from the actions of these extremists. They risk losing the acceptance from the public they fought so hard to attain over the decades; the acceptance they have already achieved. 

To be completely frank, today most Americans don’t give a damn whether someone is gay or not.  Nobody cares if gay couples share a room, or show affection in public, or get married.

That’s something I had to impress on a gay couple we went with on their first cruise ever. They were pleasantly surprised to see so many other gay couples together on the ship.  They shouldn’t have been. But they were prepared for the worst from crew and other passengers, because they're historically conditioned to expect discrimination just because they are gay. 

Of course, none of that happened because, again, nobody cares.  

But they were also disappointed that the nightly LGBTQ event the ship held at one of the bars rarely attracted any other gay singles or couples.  Most nights they were the only ones.  

Not that there weren’t any gay and lesbian people, couples, and groups traveling together on board.  There were.  They hung out at the bars like everybody else. They were highly social with everybody at the bars and restaurants. None of them started conversations by telling anyone they were gay, lesbian or whatever, nor did anyone who wasn’t start out by saying they were straight.  

There’s no need for that anymore. Gay people are fully in the mainstream. 

They are largely assimilated.

And maybe that’s what bothers the activists so much.  They’re afraid of losing the feeling of being “special.” Of belonging to a private and exclusive club.  They are no longer entitled to special attention and special treatment.  They’re just like everybody else. 

When you’re like everybody else, broader cultural rules apply.  Most people don’t make a big deal about how they have sex and with who.  Nobody is that interested whether you’re gay, straight, bi, or vegan, (although vegans can be particularly annoying).  

That’s one downside of assimilation. It diminishes the power of dividing people into artificial subgroups simply for political purposes.  So it can break down barriers to getting along, not by ignoring differences, but by embracing the commonalities shared by the larger group.  

That scares a lot of people who have so much invested in belonging to a group or idea they assumed was vital to who they are and how others see them.  

And some will do anything to avoid that.  Even if it doesn’t really matter anymore.