On Sunday, former South Bend, Ind., Mayor Pete Buttigieg announced he was dropping out of the race to secure the Democratic presidential nomination, ending a historic run by the first openly gay major presidential candidate. Much of the focus since then has been on the obvious questions: What does this mean for the race on Super Tuesday as approximately one-third of convention delegates are up for grabs from Virginia to Texas? Particularly with Monday's withdrawal of Sen. Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota _ is this a one-two boost for former Vice President Joe Biden?
But some attention must be paid to another important question: What has the Buttigieg candidacy meant to the cause of gay rights?
Here's one measure. Eight years ago on the same Sunday, Maryland's then-Gov. Martin O'Malley signed into law legislation legalizing same-sex marriage, making Maryland only the seventh state in the nation to take that step, along with the District of Columbia. It was considered a major event, raising the governor's national profile, and widely hailed as a "tipping point" in the LGBTQ movement.
Just a few years after O'Malley's actions, the U.S. Supreme Court weighed in with the Obergefell v. Hodges decision and recognized the constitutional right of same-sex partners to be married, legalizing it in all 50 states based on a case involving a marriage performed in Maryland. And while it would greatly overstate matters to suggest the nation was now fully united on this front, it's impossible not to conclude that substantial progress has been made. Last year, a Gallup poll found nearly two-thirds of Americans support same-sex marriage. The same polling firm found a majority of Americans opposed it in 2011. Public opinion can change that fast when Americans are first, better educated on a topic, and second, get a chance to see the issue (or individuals involved) in action, preferably firsthand.
In the case of the candidate often referred to simply as "Mayor Pete," one can see a further shift in public attitudes. Just a decade ago, an openly gay candidate would surely have found himself constantly assailed by questions concerning his sexual orientation and the ramifications on policy, perhaps even on national security. Instead, Buttigieg _ a 38-year-old, Harvard-educated, Afghanistan War veteran _ stirred more criticism of his age, relative inexperience, relatively centrist policies and lack of rapport with black voters than about his marriage to Chasten Buttiegieg (nee Glezman).
Indeed, when right-wing shock-talk radio host Rush Limbaugh, easily the nation's least deserving Presidential Medal of Freedom winner, recently made a crack about how the nation wasn't ready to elect a man who would kiss his husband onstage, it landed with a thud. Buttigieg's response, that he wasn't "gonna take lectures on family values from the likes of Rush Limbaugh," and his reminder that he hadn't paid any hush money to porn stars like President Donald Trump proved the more effective.
All the more remarkable about this level of widespread acceptance of a gay candidate is that it's not exactly like the U.S. electorate is witnessing a time of genteel, polite and thoughtful reflection in its national politics. It's rough and disreputable out there. Trump's Twitter feed alone is something of a dumpster fire. He is the living counterpoint to Michelle Obama's famous quote about going high when others go low. President Trump goes low and then goes low some more. And his most ardent followers to seem to relish the display. Buttigieg didn't operate like that. He was more the straight-A student from the Midwest, the poised "yes, sir," "no, sir" former Navy intelligence officer, and easily the candidate most in command of the English language.
Barack Obama will always be remembered as the nation's first African American president. But it seems unlikely he would have achieved that status if not for the African American candidates who came before him, including the Rev. Jesse Jackson and Shirley Chisholm. Buttigieg's 2020 campaign may someday deserve a similar acknowledgement. Perhaps he will serve as his own trailblazer.
