Ally? Get Over Yourself

I stumbled across a very helpful blog post by Jamie Utt from Everyday Feminism several years ago, outlining Ten Things an Ally Should Know.

Jamie points out that the ideas in this piece come from the combined insights "of the People of Color, Queer-identified people, women, differently-abled people, poor folks, Jewish people, Muslim people, Atheists, undocumented citizens, and others... Because part of being an ally means giving credit where credit is due and never taking credit for the anti-oppressive thinking, writing, theorizing, and action of the marginalized and oppressed."

If I were to paraphrase the sentiment behind these ten points, I would say, "Ally, get over yourself! It's not about you!"

Over the next few posts, indebted to the author of the original piece and the chorus of voices they drew from, I will summarize the ideas from the Everyday Feminism post.

Ten Things an Ally Should Know

1) Being an ally is about listening.

Shut up and listen! Of course, every person has wisdom and experience to share based on their background, culture, experience, and perspective, including allies. But, when it comes to the experience of LGBT+ people, the ally in the room should not dominate the conversation. Allies should not arrive on the scene and begin lecturing others or giving all the answers. To coin a phrase, don't ally-splain.

It is important to listen to as many voices as possible. You cannot ally yourself with a person and simultaneously disregard their voice.

Keep in mind, though, that a diversity of voices is needed to round out your perspective. Just because one gay man offers an opinion to you, it does not mean that every other LGBT+ person feels the same way. Always be listening.

2) Ally is not a noun.

Being an ally is not a status. This is not about titles, labels, or credentials you can name for yourself. You can't just flash your ally card as if you've been carded in a liquor store. This is about your words, your thoughts, and your actions.

Consider this quote from Mia McKenzie:

“’Currently operating in solidarity with’ is undeniably an action. It describes what a person is doing in the moment. It does not give credit for past acts of solidarity without regard for current behavior. It does not assume future acts of solidarity. It speaks only to the actions of the present.”

3) Ally is not a self-proclaimed identity.

You don't get to just decide, "I'm an ally now." Yes, your intentions count for something. It is admirable that you want to be an ally. You can strive for solidarity through your words and actions, but keep in mind that others will need to trust you as an ally on their own terms and in their own time.

In other words, being an ally has two components:
- Your intentions, words, and actions as you strive to be an ally
- The trust of LGBT+ people as they recognize your consistent ally behavior

"Trust me, I consider myself an ally," is not enough to cut it.

4) Allies don't take breaks.

Those who are oppressed, marginalized, or ignored do not get to take a break. If you want to be an ally you don't get to retreat into your privilege whenever it becomes convenient.

Part of recognizing your privilege is acknowledging that you get to choose whether or not you're going to engage or resist oppression. Those who are marginalized do not get to choose. Take care of yourself and rest when you need it, but keep in mind that retreating into ease and comfort at every turn is not acting in solidarity, especially when you disengage in critical times of need.

More insights to come in the following post...

My Aversion to Pride

Jason Hanrahan is a wise and thoughtful acquaintance of mine, and a member of Equality Springfield's advisory board. In today's post, Jason shares about his perspective on Pride. This piece first appeared on Jason's website. 

by Jason Hanrahan

I've never been one to participate much in Pride celebrations.  I have used many different reasons since I officially came out to rationalize my aversion to the yearly season of rainbow flags, skin-clad participants and damaged livers.  I make my excuses and plan my events to purposely conflict with the nearby festivals in hope that I can get by one more year without falling into the ‘stereotype’ of being a gay man.

While I have always been aware of Pride’s history and the reason behind the inaugural event (I will let you research that for yourselves), I have always found its current state to be more damaging than helpful to the cause of showing the world that we are ‘normal’.  The internal struggle between whether I was standing up for a good cause or just denying myself at a deeper level has always existed and thus I chose to ignore it altogether.  I tend to do that when I don’t have the mental or emotional capacity to confront myself in any real way.

Recently, I have decided that those things that I stand so strongly against, are more than likely the very things I need to confront.  So, I reluctantly let some friends drag me out to the bars in Dayton this year on the Saturday afternoon of Pride.  The first bar we visited was packed and had its usual programming typical of a Saturday evening, just in matinee form.  Although the entertainment was the same and the drinks were being served as any other evening I would spend there, I noticed a palatable difference.  Not only were there families with young children, everyone seemed to have dropped the air of judgement towards each other and the outsiders that only dare show their colors during this yearly reprieve.  While I initially reacted in shock to there being young children watching the drag queens lip-sync on stage, I gradually grew accustomed to their presence and began to open my mind to what was going on. 

We made our way to another club that opened its doors for a special open stage event that afternoon.  This venue usually has one door you can enter through and requires their patrons be over 18 years of age.  Covers tend to more expensive because of the quality of the show and environment.  On this particular afternoon all of their doors were open, staff were outside greeting those who wanted to come in and entry was free.  We walked in, ordered our drinks and sat in front of the stage to watch the performers who signed up to show off their stuff.  Again, I noticed that there were families in the crowd and everyone was enjoying the afternoon watching their friends and relatives perform.

It wasn’t until the very end of the show when the host, Amaya Sexton, opened the stage for a dance break that I realized what Pride means today.  The crowd was hesitant to join her on stage so she had to pull people up to get the dance break started.  I noticed that she went over to a group of deaf individuals and invited a young girl who was autistic up on the platform.  The girl readily agreed and joined Amaya.  Then, a straight couple who were no older than sixteen years old hopped up on the stage.  A few others rallied behind them and when Amaya cued the DJ to start the music.  Once the music started, everyone on that stage fell victim to the rhythm.  Young, old, deaf, autistic, lame and many others were showing off their moves and enjoying their moment in the lights.  

That Saturday was a day for acceptance and love no matter who you were or your background.  There was a sense of community, not defiance.  I was blessed that day.  Blessed by the open arms that the bars extended to families and those young people who may not currently have a support system.  I was blessed by the way everyone was accepting of each other and what they had to offer.

My wish is that we start to treat every day as if it were Pride. 

Pride is Linked to Fight for Equality

Not only does Pride build a strong sense of community among LGBT+ people (and their ally friends), but the celebration is inextricably tied to efforts to bring about equal rights and equal protection under the law.

Today's post, by Jeff Roggenbeck, emphasizes the relationship between Pride and the pursuit of equality for all people:

The First Pride was a RIOT!

No literally it was a riot. June 28th through July1st of 1969 was known as The Stonewall Riots. These riots started at the Stonewall Inn which was a bar in Greenwich Village neighborhood (which still exists AND is a landmark for us all) when a group of bar patrons rose up against the anti-gay systems of the times and the police force that were "enforcing" the "Morality Codes".

Being gay was a crime. Dressing as a member of the opposite sex was a crime. Conversing in a flirtatious manner with members of the same sex would be considered immoral and would be somehow twisted into a crime punishable by jail time and public ridicule. Beautiful Drag Queens were forced to wash their makeup off in dirty mop buckets as their clothes were torn and ruined. 

Entertainment of any kind differing from those of a horrible moral order was destroyed. We entertained and met in secret. We hid from the raids. We stopped on June 28th.

The first punch was thrown. The bricks flew. We were rioting. We did not back down. We stood up against the forces of this skewed moral view. We organized. We grew together. We fought for our rights. We became united. June 28th, 1970 the VERY FIRST PRIDE event was held in celebration of our victories.

Remember these things as we celebrate. Remember that we have fought and continue to fight to the end til Equality is founded for all no matter our sexual orientation. Be strong, be proud, be United!

"Only the human mind invents categories and tries to force facts into separated pigeon-holes. The living world is a continuum in each and every one of its aspects. The sooner we learn this concerning sexual behavior the sooner we shall reach a sound understanding of realities of sex" --Alfred Kinsey

Pride Offers Community of Support

The Columbus Pride Festival and Parade is far and away the largest Pride celebration in Ohio. In fact, it is one of the biggest Pride celebrations in the Midwest. The event is hosted by Stonewall Columbus, Inc. and it has been going strong since 1981.

In today's post, Rick Incorvati, founding member of Equality Springfield, shares a personal account which highlights the supportive community aspect of Pride.

Rick says, I've got a Pride story, one that comes with a picture and video. In 2012, Equality Springfield had plans to participate in the big one: the Pride March in Columbus. We registered as a group, and folks agreed to meet out at the lineup. 

It was a beautiful day, but for various reasons, only a few members of Equality Springfield were able to find each other. Rick had the Equality Springfield banner ready to go, and he was set to march in the parade, but only three members of the group were present.

Seeing that the size of their group was smaller than expected, they wondered if marching in the parade was still a good idea.

Rick reflects: We looked at each other, looked at our banner, and decided we were a pitiful spectacle. Better to go find a spot along the march route and just be spectators for the day.

As the plans to march in the parade began to fade away, Rick and the other Equality Springfield representatives (Tai and De) happened upon some friends.

Equality Ohio is a nonprofit organization that advocates for LGBTQ people statewide. Equality Ohio was also present for the Pride March that day. Rick shares what happened next.

On the way up to the route, we ran into Equality Ohio, and I knew a couple of the folks there. Among them was Lee Reinhart (a peach of a guy) and then Executive Director Ed Mullen. They invited us to march with them, Equality Springfield banner and all.

Seeing that members of Equality Springfield were ready and willing to march, the group from Equality Ohio wasted no time welcoming their neighbors from the west into their company. How hospitable were the people from Equality Ohio? Not only did they allow Equality Springfield to march with them...

In fact, they put us right up front, patted us on the shoulders, and shouted "Equality Springfield" in their bullhorn. The day went from being disappointing to being transformational...

The triumphant spectacle was caught on camera! Watch the video here:

Rick continues, The feeling of marching down High St. in the center of the state capital on a beautiful day with crowds of supporting, friendly, and shouting people is not something I'm going to match again. The world had turned upside down. It was a gay world, a lesbian world, a transgender world, a friendly world, and it showed me just how much of a weight minorities carry with them day in and day out without ever realizing it. For one stretch of time, we were all there was.

Misconceptions about Pride

June is Pride month. Throughout the month, I will be posting various thoughts about Pride, including some perspectives from LGBT+ people and allies in the community. These Pride related posts will lead up to my own involvement with Springfield Pride on June 24th.

What is Pride about? What does it mean? These are some of the questions I'd like to explore, at least at a basic, introductory level.

But first, I'll tell you a little bit about my first impressions of Pride month.

I grew up just south of Columbus, OH, in a small town. There, I attended a Fundamentalist Baptist church. When Columbus Pride rolled around each year, it was not uncommon to hear commentary from my fellow Christians.

There was commentary year-round, of course. I am thinking of my Christian friends who called for a boycott of the film Finding Nemo because Ellen Degeneres was "a bad influence on our families." Or the call I heard many times from my pastor's pulpit, to boycott Disney because they had Pride day within their theme parks.

And when Columbus Pride came around each year, the event provided a local basis for further scorn and condemnation.

This blog will not be about these kinds of voices. I'd like to zero in on the positive, empowering, life-celebrating aspects of Pride, and to amplify the voices of those who have something constructive to say. But because this blog is intended for allies (or potential allies) who are new to some of these topics, I would like to take a moment to address some of the misconceptions I heard about Pride when I was growing up.

In other words, let's begin with what Pride is NOT.

The negative assertions about Pride fell into three basic camps. Here they are:

 

Yes, believe it or not, this was one of the most common complaints I heard about Pride from my pious neighbors. In the conservative Christian bubble, Pride was a flashy festival designed to "draw in" young people. The underlying conception was that LGBT+ people were trying to woo young people into a "homosexual lifestyle" by offering fun and excitement. In essence, we needed to be on guard because the Pride people were trying to capture the hearts and minds of our children and "recruit" them to become gay.

I feel a little silly saying this, but you know that's not how it works, right? People do not become gay because they went to a parade and decided it was a good idea. People do not become lesbian because a festival happened downtown, and people do not become transgender because "it's the cool thing to do, and everyone is doing it."

Or, a subset of this argument: Pride was about "making a gay lifestyle more acceptable to the general public." If gay people march in the streets enough, then more and more people will decide that an LGBT "lifestyle" is permissible.

It's true that increased visibility may have an effect on the community, and perhaps that effect might be a more accepting and kind attitude. But the sinister overtones are unnecessary. 

My peers tended to look at Pride with fear and suspicion, as if there was an ulterior motive behind the festivities, a secret conspiracy to advance some kind of sneaky agenda (more on that in a moment).

No, Pride is not about turning the hearts and minds of our children. No, Pride is not about convincing more people to become LGBT+.

But, imagine you were a young LGBT+ person who thought you were alone in the world. What would a Pride parade mean to you?

This was another common complaint among my conservative Christian peers. Pride was about wallowing in sexual perversion. In the eyes of my pastor, Pride was about brazenly displaying sexual activities which should happen behind closed doors, in the privacy of the bedroom. Pride was about flaunting lewd and scandalous behavior in public, with no regard for decency or "family values."

After all, on the news there was a person walking down the street... with his bottom exposed!

Okay, let's be real for a minute. It's true that you might be exposed to overtly sexual content when attending some Pride festivities. That dynamic does exist... a sense of liberation and exploration and celebration of sexual values which might not mirror that which is considered traditional in some circles.


But, it is helpful to pause for a moment before associating every Pride participant with overt sexual behavior or expression. The LGBT+ community, just like any other community, is broad and diverse. There are LGBT+ people from all walks of life, from a variety of backgrounds, and with a variety of worldviews. The ass-less chaps cowboy you saw dangling from the front of the float is a valuable member of the community, but he does not represent every person.

Pride is about openness and freedom, so you will see a wide range of expression. Pride is, in part, about celebrating this wide range. The point is not to make judgement statements about which types of sexual activity are permissible and which are taboo; the point is to acknowledge the broad spectrum that exists within our diverse community.

One quick note on promiscuity. In my church growing up, conversations like this were used to imply that gay people were more promiscuous than others, or that Pride participants were more likely to lead unrestrained, wild, or otherwise licentious lifestyles.

Again, the community is broad, so just like any group, there is a wide range of values at play. But, it should be noted that there is no evidence to show that LGBT people are more promiscuous than any other group of people. LGBT people are just as likely to be in a monogamous committed relationship as anyone else.

Finally, the third broad category of criticism fell into the culture war. Pride was about "forcing their agenda down our throats." Pride was supposedly about advancing some sort of cause, mainly taking away the rights of straight, white Christian people. "These gay people are no longer satisfied to stay in the privacy of their homes," the pastor would say, "They have to storm into our neighborhoods and force us to agree to their agenda."

In closing, I will tell you that I think the pastor was on to something. There is an agenda. There has been all along.

The agenda is to stand against discrimination. The agenda is to promote equality for all people, including minority groups such as LGBT+ people. The agenda is to affirm the value of every person, and to promote equal rights and preserve the dignity of people from all walks of life. The agenda is to raise the visibility of groups within our communities who may be overlooked, ignored, marginalized, or misconstrued. The agenda is to celebrate diversity instead of being threatened by it.

In the next few weeks, I will be posting some more perspectives about Pride, which means many different things to many different people. Maybe you will be able to attend a pride event in your area. Here in Springfield, Pride will take place on City Hall Plaza June 24th from 12-4. Stop by and see what's going on.

I'm Not Gay!

Last week, I was at a conference related to my job. One of the workshops I attended was about bias, diversity, and cultural intelligence. During this workshop, there was an exercise, designed to get people thinking introspectively about their biases.

There were various labels printed on signs which were hanging around the room. The object of the exercise was to select one of the labels and stand under the corresponding sign. For example, if one most closely identified as a Christian, they wold stand beneath a sign which said "Christian."

It was a simple exercise, the point of which was to demonstrate how difficult it is to select one aspect of your identity as your defining characteristic. People struggled to choose a sign to stand under, either because they identified with more than one label or because none of the labels adequately captured them as a person. That was the intended message of the exercise, but I noticed another dynamic.

Interestingly, one of the signs said, "Transgender." No one stood under this sign.

The first idea that struck me during this exercise was that any transgender persons in the room might not feel comfortable outing themselves in such a direct way among a room full of strangers. So, perhaps there were transgender people in attendance and perhaps there were not. But this was not the dynamic I noticed.

I noticed that people were going out of their way to NOT stand beneath the transgender sign. The signs were posted along the wall. In many areas, it became unclear which sign people had chosen, because the signs were closely grouped together. In other words, once a group had assembled beneath one sign, it was sometimes difficult to tell which one they had selected without an explanation.

Not so with the transgender sign. People were leaving such a wide berth under that sign, there was no question whether or not anyone had selected it. Not only were people not choosing the transgender sign, but they were also going out of their way to make it obvious they were not standing under that sign.

I happened to select the sign directly next to the transgender sign. I found myself standing directly between the two labels, which was not terribly troubling to me, although it resulted in those nearest me not being certain which label I had chosen. I noticed that the others who had selected the same label as me were taking great pains to distance themselves from the transgender label.

"I'm under this sign, NOT that sign."

They stood awkwardly to one side, ensuring that no one would mistakenly associate them with the wrong label. I did not notice these great pains being taken to avoid any of the other labels.

This got me thinking about a particular dynamic I sometimes see among allies, and there is a bit of nuance involved, so bear with me.

First, I have to be clear on something I am NOT saying. I would never for an instant suggest that straight cis-gender people should appropriate the experience of LGBTQ people. At no time should an ally come swaggering into the room, claiming to identify with the experience of an LGBTQ person. I'd never suggest that allies should align themselves with an experience they have never had, nor should they erase the differences in experience related to sexuality and gender. It is insulting and inappropriate for a majority culture person to pretend to fully understand the experience of a historically marginalized people group.

So, an ally should never say, "Yeah, I get it! My experience is the same!"

After that disclaimer, the dynamic I'd like to talk about is fear of being mistakenly identified as an LGBTQ person. 

 

Here is an example. Sometimes, people want to disclose they are an ally to the LGBTQ community. Instead of simply offering their support or voicing their perspective, they express their position like this:

"I'm not gay, but I am supportive."

Or, "Don't get me wrong, I am not a lesbian, but I support marriage equality."

Or, "Don't mistake me for transgender. I am not transgender, but I am opposed to the bathroom bill."

The tendency I am getting at here is the apparent perceived need to assert the non-LGBTQ aspect of one's identity prior to expressing a viewpoint.

Some more nuance here. Sometimes, it is perfectly acceptable to clarify gender identity or sexual orientation. So I would never suggest a person should never distinguish their heterosexuality or cis-gender identity. In many cases, it may be helpful to offer full disclosure and offer insight into who you are.

But, I'll also note that if you begin every supportive statement by distancing yourself from LGBTQ people, it may have a detrimental effect on your relationships. It's perfectly acceptable to be open about your straightness or cis-gendernesss, but this does not need to be a disclaimer which is constantly placed on the forefront.

It's great to express your support for LGBTQ people, but if you preface every statement of support with a disclaimer that you yourself are not LGBTQ, it can come across as demeaning. 

It may seem like you are worried about being mistaken for an LGBTQ person. Or, it may seem like you are insecure about your own identity, so much so that you feel the need to constantly remind people you are not gay.  

The term homophobic has a wide range of meaning, and a wide range of usage, but in essence, this sort of disclaimer can be at the heart of the meaning.

If you are afraid of being mistaken for an LGBTQ person, ask yourself why. Feeling this way does not make you a terrible person, but it may indicate that you have some assumptions or biases to consider.

Are you worried that someone might think you're gay? Would you be offended if someone mistook you for a transgender person? Would you take offense if you attended a party with a member of the same sex and people assumed you were dating?

Just something to think about.

One small way I've resisted this in my life. I am a member of Equality Springfield, a local group which seeks equality for all people, especially LGBTQ people. When I am disclosing to others for the first time that I am a member of this group, I am cautious not to lead with the phrase, "I not gay, but..."

I was once in a group of people I had never met, and we were all discussing various community efforts we were involved in. As soon as I made mention of my involvement with Equality Springfield, some people in the room assumed that I must be gay. After all, why else would I be involved in the local "gay group."

I experienced a similar incident once, at a local event where Equality Springfield had a table set up. I stood near the rainbow banner on display while chatting with some local church folks, who did not know I was active with the group. The sentiment they expressed? That it was humorous for me to stand next to the banner because people might think I was gay.

"Jack! You're near the rainbow banner. People might get the wrong idea."

They did not mean any harm, but their observation highlighted their inner homophobia: their inner fear of being associated with something gay.

Again, it is not necessary for me to appropriate the culture of another or pretend to be a gay man. I do not need to give the appearance of being LGBTQ to be supportive. But, I also did not stumble over myself in explanation, nor did I need to rush to clear up the misconception. I made an intentional effort to not make any denials.

When I met the new group of people and mentioned my involvement with Equality Springfield, some in the group wondered if I was gay. Later in the conversation, I mentioned my wife by name, and the group realized I was not in a same sex relationship. So, they figured out I was an ally. But, I did not go out of my way to "correct" the people who wondered if I was gay based on my involvement with a group. And I did not rush to distance myself from others or put myself in a separate category.

In other words, as they got to know me more, their assumptions were challenged.

For an ally, I'd never suggest using deception or intentionally being unclear about who you are. But, I'd also suggest it is okay to stand under an LGBTQ sign, or to hold up a banner, without being afraid of someone mistaking you for an LGBTQ person. You don't have pretend to be gay; but you also don't have to get defensive or go out of your way to clarify you aren't gay.

Even during goofy team-building exercises, you don't have to bend in weird directions or contort your body to be sure no one thinks you're standing under the transgender sign. It will be alright. The labels are inadequate, and that is kind of the point of the exercise.

No Gays Allowed: The Problem with Religious Freedom Acts

"No Gays Allowed."

This was the sign Jeff Amyx displayed prominently on the front door of his hardware store in Washburn, TN back in 2015.

Amyx is a Baptist minister and hardware store owner. He went on to sell hats, bumper stickers, and other items with anti-gay messages such as "No Gays Allowed" and "Choose God or Gays."

If you think this story is old news, here is a recent picture from the front of the store, which is currently posted on the store's Facebook page:

What would Leviticus have to say about mixing paint, I wonder?

Also in 2015, shortly after posting the sign, something interesting happened. Amyx removed the "No Gays Allowed" message and replaced it with this one:

I highlight this specific story because it demonstrates an interesting pattern which has emerged time and again. First, a business owner overtly states his refusal to offer services to gay people. Then, in response to the outcry, the business owner invokes his rights of freedom of speech and freedom of religion to justify his position.

"No Gays Allowed," sounds targeted and cruel. But, "I am invoking my religious rights," sounds downright patriotic.

A Little Background

Jeff Amyx posted his signs in 2015, right around the time that Mike Pence (then Governor of Indiana) signed a law called the Religious Freedom Restoration Act. Pence and his supporters claimed that this law was identical to the 1993 federal law of the same name, but the Indiana version had 2 key differences.

First, the 2015 law signed by Pence explicitly allowed for-profit businesses to assert their right to the free exercise of religion. In other words, not only can individuals invoke their right to free speech and religion, but businesses and corporations could do so as well.

Second, the law allowed businesses or corporations to use their "free exercise" of religion as a defense in a litigation.

In short, the 2015 Indiana law said that businesses and corporations have rights matching those of individuals and churches, and that if complaints or lawsuits arise when a business denies services to someone, the business can use their "religious freedom" as a defense against discrimination claims.

So by this reasoning, a business can discriminate against people as long as they cite "religious freedom" as the reason. To apply the law in relation to the above example, Jeff Amyx can refuse to sell hardware to gay people as long as the sign on his door says it is for religious reasons.

Now, there are rumors that Donald Trump plans to sign an executive order tomorrow which closely resembles Pence's earlier work in Indiana. The proposed order could provide sweeping legal protections for businesses who claim religious exemptions.

But, Religious Freedom is a Good Thing, Right? 

To many people, this executive order sounds like a good thing. Some Evangelical Christians are celebrating the idea that President Trump would sign such an order. (The proposed timing of the order coincides with the National Day of Prayer).

What, then, is the problem?

First, religious freedom is already protected in the Constitution. Despite appearances, this measure and others like it do nothing to increase liberties of our citizens. It may be spun as a victory, as if Donald Trump is granting additional religious liberties to his constituents, but this measure does nothing to increase, reinforce, or otherwise change existing liberty protections.

Not only does the US Constitution grant religious liberty, but there are state-level protections too. For example, Article I of Ohio's Constitution offers the religious liberty protections. Trump's potential order, or Pence's earlier law, are not an "increase" of religious liberty... those protections already exist.

The measure is superfluous at best, comically theatrical, unnecessary, and pandering at worst.

If these protections already exist, why must we "restore" them? Why do we need an executive order (or a state law like Ohio's proposed Pastor Protection Act) if ample protection already exists?

Because we need a basis to shield those who would discriminate. 

This is not about extending additional freedom to people; this is about providing cover for those who would actively discriminate against individuals and groups.

This measure does not say, "And now we will enhance and magnify the religious liberty we already have." This measure says, "Now we will permit for-profit business to deny goods and services to others if they invoke religious beliefs as the reason."

This measure does not say, "We affirm EVERY person's right to free exercise of religion." This measure says, "Now businesses have legal footing to exclude anyone they want."

Religious Freedom does not mean we get to discriminate against others, and it does not mean we get to impose our beliefs on others. Jeff Amyx in Tennessee argued that others could buy tools from his hardware store if they did not impose their beliefs on him. Doesn't his store policy impose his beliefs on others?

Some would argue that religious freedom acts protect churches from being forced to perform weddings that conflict with their religious convictions. I'll point out that clergy already have these rights under the First Amendment of our United States Constitution and Article I of Ohio’s Constitution. For example, a pastor can choose not to legally marry a couple because they are not members of his congregation, or because they have not attended approved counseling, or because his religious convictions prohibit him from endorsing the union.

I'll further point out that, as a Christian, I am grateful to live in a country that offers protections related to religious liberty, but I do not make the mistake of assuming that this right has been "given to me" or granted by the government.

I am grateful my government acknowledges my personal rights, but these rights are not theirs to give, take, or alter. I don't need Donald Trump to sign an order endorsing my right to practice my faith, or my neighbor's right not to. 

I am a Christian who stands in opposition to the proposed executive order. I stand in opposition to religious freedom acts which do nothing but echo existing protections, and I stand opposed to those measures which would provide a basis for discrimination. I hold that each individual has the right to freely exercise the faith of their choosing, or no faith at all.

Corporations, however, are not people. Churches, mosques, synagogues, and other places of religious observance are not "open to the public" in the sense that they have membership guidelines, doctrinal and belief statements, and governing structures. These groups have protection to practice as they wish. But businesses are different. Businesses are places of public accommodation and are subject to zoning regulations, license requirements, accessibility requirements, and other regulations. 

Some would make the case that the free market will settle this issue... that businesses with hateful or discriminatory policies will get what they deserve when customers stop patronizing these establishments. This may be true. Still, we don't need the government sanctioning such behavior with a flourish and the stroke of a pen.