My Quixotic Quest -- LGBT and Religious Conservative Empathy

This posting is my attempt to process my thoughts and feelings as a result of the SCOTUS (Supreme Court of the United States) ruling regarding so called same-sex marriage for the United States.  I knew that the ruling was inevitable but I felt the need to roll it around inside me and then blog about it here.  As stated in other postings, this blog is where I finally focus and write what has come into focus for me.

Those of you who have kept up with "Red In Transition" or have looked at older entries know of my heart relative to Mormons and my LGBT brothers and sisters.  As someone who participated in getting members of my Glendale 7th Ward to participate in the passage of Proposition 8 in California which attempted to give voice to those who felt the California Constitution should define marriage as between a man and a woman, I have changed my mind and my heart and have supported the right of same-gender individuals to be married.  

However, I remember well my thoughts and feelings and those of many like-minded individuals, and I wish to write about what I consider to be the drama that exists between these two communities where I existed and still exist, with the desire to offer a bridge of understanding between them.  I recognize that I am a voice crying in the wilderness, but I don't mind this quixotic attempt. It is not unlike the quixotic therapeutic work that I do with couples.

In that counseling/therapy work, I usually encounter a partner that readily points an accusing finger at the other partner.  Often, catastrophizing occurs.  In other words, accusatory words like "always" and never" are used to describe the behavior of the other, with references to heartless attitudes and actions. The accuser, while not perfect, is in the right, while the accused can do no good.  The issues appear to be very black and white, with very little gray or nuance.  

Sitting in front of such a couple, I observe one partner essentially playing the role of a victim and accusing the other of playing the role of persecutor. The roles of victim, persecutor, and rescuer are roles articulated in what is known as the Karpman Drama Triangle. (See my earlier posting about the Drama Triangle)  

When I introduce this principle to a couple, or to each of them individually, I ask them if they enjoy drama in their lives and marriage.  If they don't, then I challenge them to recognize the role(s) they might be playing, and to then attempt to change their own behavior as they recognize a role they might be assuming.  To put it another way, the object of the Drama Triangle is to recognize one's own complicity in it and to refuse to play a role.

In the Drama Triangle, victims need persecutors (and rescuers), and perscutors (and rescuers) need victims.  If one refuses to act in one of the roles, it wonderfully removes the power of the one in the opposite role.  It is the only way to really change to behavior of the other partner--by changing themselves.

Interestingly and sadly,  people or groups who see themselves as victims can quickly and easily assume a role of persecutor, often without knowing they are doing so in the moment.  If the victim sees himself/herself as being taken advantage of, it is easy to place the other partner on the defensive, thus assuming a persecuting role.  And around and around the victim and persecutor go.

Regrettably, people often prefer to play a role.  It suits their personalities and their agendas.  The status quo can be very comfortable and known, and it is far easier to focus on the issues of the partner rather than looking at their own issues. They prefer drama.

It appears to me that Drama Triangle roles are currently being played by the LGBT community and by faith communities, speaking generally.  To wit, there is much drama being played out by both camps in many types of media.  For the LGBT community, it is historical victimhood.  It is not difficult to bring up historical and even some current examples of heterossexual privilege, examples of hypocrisy, examples of private and public persecution.  My point is not to dismiss these examples; there have been many who have assumed the role of persecutor of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people.

For those faith-based, conservative communities, in the ruling of the SCOTUS regarding taking the rights of states to regulate same-gender marriages and what arguably can be seen by them as a redefinition of what is marriage, they see themselves as victims, and the LGBT community as persecutors.  For these "traditional" or conservative people, the world is going to hell and Sodom and Gomorrah has nothing on the USA in 2015.  My point is not to minimize their genuine fear and bewilderment; if I am feeling this way, I very much feel victimized.

My quixotic attempt in this posting is to challenge each group to move past the role of victim, whether it be recent or historical.  Victims need persecutors to exist, and I am challenging each to challenge the status quo and not be victims or persecutors.  As I stated previously, the only way to change the conversation is for each group to change themselves. Turning swords into plowshares is a way to find commonality and understanding.    


I see people of good will of both communites sitting down and finding areas of agreement.  I see people coming from behind walls of fear and security and attempting to be vulnerable and real with one another, enabling there to be some empathy.  I see each group sharing common humanity.  I see people embracing the golden rule.  I see people showing respect and concern for each other.  I see people realizing that life is too short to be spent in drama, and refusing to play any dramatic roles.

For those of my faith in both communities, I see us emotionally if not physically embracing one another.  I see us espousing the values the Christ taught while on the earth.  I see us "trying to be like Jesus and following in His ways."  I see us looking at each other as the children of God that we are. 

Please take time to read this Op-Ed piece published in the July 11th edition of the Salt Lake Tribune. This is exactly what I am talking about and what I am proposing! 

Op-ed: Start a conversation with someone on the other side of LGBT debate

By Erika Munson

When the Supreme Court announced its decision legalizing same-sex marriage, the national media's declarations that life in the United States had changed overnight quickly became, in my opinion, a tired cliché. Such oversimplification ignores both the generations of LGBT activists who have worked long and hard for their civil rights and conservative Americans whose deep disappointment and concern will not vanish in a sea of rainbow flags.

It would be nice to think that the rancor is over, that all is forgiven on both sides, but in a free society it doesn't work that way. Humanity doesn't effortlessly glide from paradigm shift to paradigm shift. Whether you celebrated or lamented the Obergefell v. Hodges decision, there is work ahead to do. Under these new circumstances each Utahn has to figure out how to productively and joyfully live, work, and raise their family in a community that won't always agree on some pretty basic principles.

Now that same-sex marriage is the law of the land, we have the opportunity to move away from often polarizing debate around a specific issue and toward a deeper understanding of how sexual orientation, gender identity and religion work in our lives and the lives of our neighbors.

What lies beneath such statements as "love is love" or "marriage is ordained by God"? Social psychologist Jonathan Haidt explores this terrain when he compares the moral foundations of liberals and conservatives. Over years of cross-cultural research, Haidt has identified values that the two groups share and where they diverge.

It should be no surprise to anyone that care for those in need, liberty from oppression and the idea of fairness rank high on the list of moral foundations important to people of all political and religious inclinations. We saw this at work last March when the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and LGBT advocates came together in support of Utah's historic nondiscrimination legislation.

But research also shows that conservatives don't stop there. Just as important to them as care, fairness and liberty are loyalty to the group, respect for authority and sanctity. Too often, the left characterizes these last three as products of fear or superstition — not moral foundations at all — yet for the right a moral code is incomplete without them. It is this conflict that can keep us in our respective corners.

But there is a way out. We need to learn how to ask questions and listen empathetically to each other with an ear tuned to these moral foundations: "Tell me what justice means to you." "How does the counsel you receive from your religious leaders work in your life?" "When do you connect with the transcendent?"

But where to begin? These weighty topics are hard to broach across the fence to a neighbor you don't know very well. Start by cultivating relationships in your community the old-fashioned way: a barbecue, a baby shower, a playdate. If you want your values, your choices to be understood, you have to show a willingness to learn about those of others. Challenge yourself to find the people you think are the most different from you — be it the activist lesbian mom or the straight-laced Mormon dad and get to know them. Sit next to them at the soccer game. Ask them to volunteer at school. Be interested in the life of their family.

In 1855, the poet Walt Whitman wrote:

Do I contradict myself?

Very well then I contradict myself,

(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

Utah is a state that is famous for tea party Republicans and a conservative religion, but its capital was also voted "America's Gayest City" by the Advocate magazine and has the highest percentage of same sex couples raising children. We certainly defy cliché and we often contradict ourselves, but as a result we have the chance to be a model to the nation for respectful, inclusive, community-building.

We are large Utah, we contain multitudes. Let's start talking.

Erika Munson is a mother, grandmother and English teacher from Sandy. She is the co-founder of Mormons Building Bridges, a community devoted to making LDS homes and congregations places where LGBT/SSA individuals can thrive.