Book Review: The Mayor of Castro Street by Randy Shilts

By Al Preston

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            “On the Statue of Liberty, it says: ‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free…’ In the Declaration of Independence, it is written: ‘All men are created equal, and they are endowed with certain inalienable rights…’ and in our National Anthem, it says: ‘Oh say does that star-spangled banner yet wave o’er the land of the free.’

            “For…all the bigots out there: that’s what America is. No matter how hard you try, you cannot erase those words from the Declaration of Independence. No matter how hard you try, you cannot chip those words from off the base of the Statue of Liberty. And no matter how hard, you cannot sing the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ without those words.

            “That’s what America is.

            “Love it or leave it.”

-Harvey Milk at the June 25th, 1978, Pride Parade (page 371 of The Mayor of Castro Street)

Brief warning: very brief mention of suicide and talk about an assassination on government officials.

            The name Harvey Milk may or may not be a familiar name, especially here on the East Coast. He was the elected supervisor in San Francisco in 1978, thus making him the first openly gay elected official in California. He also had one of the shortest terms. In November of 1978, he and the Mayor, George Moscone, were assassinated by former supervisor Dan White.

            I don’t know about other young queer historians, but I came across Milk’s name pretty late into my research. I knew he had a legacy, and many gay politicians in California called on his memory relatively often. I knew that becoming an elected city official while openly gay could not have been easy. His death also marked a change in San Francisco and California’s gay history, but that moment in history never seemed to go past state lines. Sadly, I didn’t know much more than that.

            Who Milk was, what he stood for, how he became supervisor and even what the title ‘Mayor of Castro Street’ really meant—I had no clue. With no prior need to, I rarely looked too closely at San Francisco’s gay movement, far too focused on what was happening on the coast that I currently live.

            When I visited San Francisco for my very first pride parade ever, I didn’t get a chance to look in their queer museums. I also didn’t know Milk’s name at the time, so I didn’t know to look for it. One day, I’ll hopefully be able to go back and rectify that.

            In more recent years, there have been more criticisms over Milk’s methods of gaining office and utilizing political power. There were criticisms at the time as well. However, his legacy has lived on and continues to inspire, which, I think, was always his intent. However, 47 years later and across the country, Milk’s legacy seems a bit faded. I don’t know about the west coast, but here on the east, Milk is rarely talked about.

            Thus, I did not know what I was getting into when I picked The Mayor of Castro Street by Randy Shilts to read. It’s the second book I’ve read from Shilts. The first being And the Band Played On which, chronologically occurs after The Mayor of Castro Street. So, I knew what to expect from Shilts; the engaging writing, powerful messages, clever foreshadowing, and well-done research.

            I was not expecting the subject, Harvey Milk, himself. I know, that sounds a bit silly, this is a biography of the man, but I didn’t know Milk at all before this book. I didn’t know what I was expecting from the man who was the first elected gay official in California and yet, he defied even those expectations. Which, I think those who knew him would say is characteristic of him.

            Harvey Milk, as Shilts writes his story, is incredibly human. I did not feel like he was so mythical or fabricated that the idea of his existence made him hard to believe. Sometimes biographies, even autobiographies, can make their subject matter seem fictitious. Shilts, of course, never shies away from talking about a negative trait of someone, even people he likes.

            Milk felt real and tangible, someone I could have conversated with on a bus, as he was known to do during his campaigning. He did a lot of good, but also some bad things. He could in one moment inspire the masses, and in the next out a gay man just because it would make for good press. He understood people just as much as he understood the press. Most of all, to those who spoke to him, he felt like someone who knew everyone and had the best interest of the many at heart.

            Shilts is a good writer. I felt like I could piece together the different parts of Milk’s ideology based on the things that happened to him. He covers Milk’s life from his birth to the immediate aftermath of his death. Throughout, I couldn’t help but think that Milk had always been a man ahead of his time.

            However, he certainly didn’t start that way. Born in New York, Milk could be described as politically moderate at best. At worst, politically uninterested. He loved the theatre and opera and worked high paying, white collar jobs. Lovers would say he always wanted to be a victim, talking frequently about his Jewish heritage and the Holocaust. He spoiled lovers with poems, gifts, and many romantic gestures.

            It seemed, during that time, that he wanted to immolate a typical straight relationship as much as he could. He never came out, hid his gayness the best he could, although it’s implied that his parents perhaps had a hunch. Politics were secondary interests at best. At times he did support conservative candidates.

            He managed to live the quintessential American life, while clearly not being satisfied with it. He lost interest in his jobs frequently and would quit without a second thought. He would try something wilder every so often, working for a theatre for example, but always end up back at a white-collar job and high-end apartment.

            Moving to San Francisco came with a change of lifestyle. He took on the hippie lifestyle and lived off of his tax checks. When those began to run out, he and his lover at the time, Scott, bought a little store front on Castro Street and sold cameras. While living on Castro Street, he found something he could be passionate about.

            In becoming a hippie, his political views switched from conservative to far left and he loved San Francisco. Castro street was just becoming the ‘gay mecca’ it’s known to be today. Prior to that, the street and area around it had been home to immigrant families. As the gays took over, the straight families either fled or watched on unhappily. San Francisco itself was undergoing changes as businesses tried to turn the city into the next Chicago or New York, ignoring the needs of the communities in favor of paving them over to build skyscrapers.

            Milk thought someone needed to represent the people of the Castro and community interests over those of the big businesses. He also believed that the only way to progress the gay movement was for someone gay to become an elected official, to speak for the gays as a gay. However, the major gay political party in the area was extremely moderate and chose to rely solely on straight allies they had in the government.

            As much as Milk loved to watch a theatre production, he also liked putting on a show himself. He ran for office five times, promoting a more radical view than the gay democratic party. The drama of the political debates and media circus gave him a thrill. He always knew what would make for a good picture or show. While it looked like he was doing it all just for attention, he also cared deeply for the community and people.

All were welcomed into his store, Castro Camera. Straight, gay, union workers, kids, and drag queens. He would go out into the community himself, get people registered to vote, and lend them a listening ear. When the straight families expressed discomfort and distress over the gays taking over the Castro, he convinced them it was a good thing, that they could all work together to make the Castro great again.

When drag queens were looking to be active and had been pushed out of the other political organizations, he gave them somewhere to go. He was never happier to convince a little old lady on the bus that the gays were okay. People just walking by could get pulled into the little shop and end up helping lick envelopes or be handed a sign to be a part of a living billboard.

He managed to get the aid of a few different unions, appealing to their hatred of the big businesses that were taking away their jobs and rights. He had the firemen’s union coming in to sit with flamboyant gay men and be ordered around by an eleven-year-old to help with campaigns. More than other politicians, especially white ones, he hated racism and spoke out against it. He was a huge supporter of the Chinese Americans who were also fighting to be seen in the local government.

His campaign wasn’t based on knowing other politicians, in fact, most were annoyed by him. Instead, it was based on the people themselves. Every time he met someone, he added their cause to his own. For the little old ladies, he fought for centers for seniors. For the gays, he fought to show that they were more than just gay. For the unions, he fought for better pay, jobs, and security. For people of color, he fought racism and never missed a chance to call someone out for their racism. I can’t think of another politician from his time who continued to call the government out for the concentration camps for Japanese Americans that were used during World War Two.

Nothing shows this better than when he received a call from a young gay person in another state. Many of Harvey’s speeches talked about how he would receive calls across the nation from young gays thanking him for the work he was doing. This was an instance where he really received a call.

The caller wanted to thank him for saving their life. They had been planning on committing suicide because their parents were homophobic. Milk instantly tried to convince that young person to run away from home and come to California where they would make sure someone would help them. However, they couldn’t. They were wheelchair bound and couldn’t take public transit. After that, he included the disabled in his speeches and fought for better accessibility.

Thankfully, later on, Milk found that young person living with his friend. Inspired by Milk’s words and encouragement, they got onto their crutches and found a way to get to California.

That was the kind of politician Milk was. He wanted, desperately, to give people hope and push them to be proud of themselves. His followers often said that he was a man who wanted to change the world and make it a better place.

To the people he met, the people he cared for, he was the politician they had all wanted. Someone they could certifiably say they knew and trusted. To the other politicians, they were annoyed that he wasn’t falling in line with their methods. That he was butting into planned political moves that involved getting their good friends and loyal followers into office.

Moderate democratic gays thought he would ruin everything they had worked for. They feared he would scare away what political friends they had made. Conservatives, of course, hated him just for who he was and who he brought into his bedroom.

Sadly, not long into his term as supervisor, he was assassinated. Dan White was a fellow supervisor, the only conservative of the six supervisors during the same term as Milk. He wanted more big business as he was funded by most of the businesses that wanted to level San Francisco. As an ex-cop, he represented the police force which were extremely upset by the city’s liberal politicians forcing them to treat people with kindness instead of violence.

White had resigned when the political fights were taking too much of a toll. However, he was convinced by those he represented, especially the police, to retract his resignation. When he tried to do so, Milk convinced Mayor Moscone to not allow him to return. They both had agendas they wanted to push and it would be easier to do so without White.

Shortly after that rejection, White entered City Hall with a gun and assassinated Mayor Moscone and Harvey Milk. Worse, he confessed to the kills, but the trial had been essentially rigged by White’s lawyer. Mostly because the lawyer representing the slain government officials barely fought to present a good case.

White killed the mayor out of anger, he was known for his tantrums. He killed Milk because of bigotry. Out of hatred for those who represented the minorities and, most of all, because he was a gay man.

In the aftermath, Milk’s legacy lived on only in part. While he left a political will, it was not followed as closely as he probably would have liked. His followers couldn’t maintain his method of campaigning, as it is a very difficult method and he had the endless energy to maintain that kind of effort. His name was put on the senior center he wanted and other public services he fought for.

However, his care and love for people seem faded to me now. The hope he wanted to give the nation, while effective at the time, fizzled out without him. He was right in the end. The more people came out of the closet, the more acceptance queer people got. The easier it was for queer people to live and change the laws.

One speech he gave often during his campaigns and term was deemed the ‘Hope Speech’. It called for gays to come out of the closet and show the world that gay people were more than the stereotypes about them. To give other gay people hope, because while movements could not function on hope alone, living was impossible without it. He had led by example.

Milk was an inspiring person and Shilt’s writing makes him come alive on the page. I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to know more about a prolific person from the queer community and want an example to follow.

After all, that Hope Speech was the same one that talked about young people calling Milk. Of all places, he named Altoona Pennsylvania as one of those places he received a call. As an almost-but-not-quite-but-close-enough person from Altoona Pennsylvania, he inspired me.

            “If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bulled destroy every closet door.”

            -Harvey Milk within his political will tapes page 372 of The Mayor of Castro Street