REMARKS FOR

THE HONORABLE NORMAN Y. MINETA

SECRETARY OF TRANSPORTATION

NATIONAL GAY AND LESBIAN PRIDE MONTH

WASHINGTON, D.C.

JUNE 4, 2002

10:30 AM

Thank you, Kitti, for that very warm introduction.  It’s wonderful to be here with you this morning, and thanks to all of you for joining us for this important observance.

 I would like to thank Jeremy Wu and the staff at the Office of Civil Rights for organizing this morning’s event, and to the leadership and members of DOT GLOBE for all their work to make our observance of National Gay and Lesbian Pride Month a success. 

Today, the Department of Transportation is facing some of the greatest challenges in its history.   

We are faced with the challenge of both managing and improving our Nation’s transportation system.  We are faced with the challenge of building the enhanced transportation security we need to keep our economy moving and to keep our fellow Americans safe.

 And, in response to the President’s call, we will be on the front lines in helping to create the new Department of Homeland Security. 

Each of those challenges alone would be a daunting one.  Taken together, they present us with a task that we simply cannot complete without the full participation and full efforts of every one of the dedicated professionals here at the Department of Transportation.

 Our observance of National Gay and Lesbian Pride Month, like all of our departmental celebrations of the diversity in our DOT family, is aimed at sending one central message:   everyone in this Department matters, everyone at this Department should be treated with the respect he or she deserves, and that, if we are to succeed in the job we must do, everyone must be given the chance to make his or her best contribution. 

All Americans  --  from all communities and all walks of life  --  were deeply affected by the events of September 11. 

And Americans from all walks of life, including gay and lesbian Americans, were among the victims and the heroes of that terrible day. 

David Charlebois (Shar-la-boys), an American Airlines co-pilot and member of the National Gay Pilots Association, was killed in the flight that crashed into the Pentagon. 

Mark Bingham was among the heroes of United Airlines Flight 93 who gave their lives to ensure their hijacked flight did not reach its target.

 And gays and lesbians were prominent among the firefighters, police officers, medical personnel and volunteers who joined in responding to this terrible tragedy.  If September 11 taught us anything, it taught us to pull together as Americans to deal with the threats and the challenges we face. 

President Bush has emphasized that our goal as a Nation must be to create a welcoming society — a nation where no one is dismissed or forgotten.   

That is also our commitment here at the United States Department of Transportation.  It is reflected in our commitment to equal opportunity for all employees regardless of race, color, national origin, religion, age, sex, disability or sexual orientation, and I reaffirm that commitment to you today. 

The Gay and Lesbian community has come a long way since the Stonewall Riots of 1969 that catapulted the gay rights movement onto the national stage.  Across the Nation, gay and lesbian Americans have greater opportunities now than ever before to live full and open lives as contributing members of their communities. 

Those opportunities were not achieved easily, or without cost.  They have been achieved by dedicated men and women standing up for themselves, taking part in the public lives of their communities, and working to make this Nation a better place  --  both for themselves and for their neighbors. 

Equally important, those advances have been made because gay and lesbian Americans have helped to educate their neighbors about who they are  --  and because their neighbors listened. 

As an American of Japanese ancestry, I know how difficult it can be when your fellow Americans see you as somehow fundamentally different from themselves. 

When we fail to appreciate the similarities between ourselves and our neighbors, the temptation to see them as somehow less important can be overwhelming. 

And it can express itself as discrimination both subtle and blatant. 

When my family and I returned to our home in San Jose, California, at the close of World War II, we had been gone for more than five years.  Some of that time we spent in the internment camps to which our government confined us, simply because our fellow Americans did not believe that people of Japanese ancestry could ever truly be American. 

Even as some of us were released from the camps, we were still barred from returning to the West Coast because of those fears. 

When we finally were allowed to return home, our community leaders realized that one of the reasons for the internment was that our fellow Americans had no idea who we were.  And so we resolved to introduce ourselves.

We became active in politics in a way we never had been before.  We wanted to make sure that our political leaders knew who we were  --  rather than seeing us as mysterious people who could be dismissed with very little thought. 

And as we gained acceptance over the years, and built a more secure place for ourselves in our communities, we began to tell the story of what happened to us during the War. 

Many in this country did not remember, or never knew about, the internment of Japanese Americans.  Many who did know did not know the full story. 

So, in the mid-1970’s, when we began to tentatively tell our story and to ask that the Nation redress the tragedies of the 1940’s, we did so with some hesitation. 

We felt a powerful lingering shame that we were not trusted by our own government, and it was difficult for us to speak about our experiences.

 The Redress Movement started to break down those barriers, so I think many of you in this room will understand why I have often described that movement as the “coming out” of the Japanese American community.  

But when we did tell our story at long last, and when we educated our fellow Americans about the injustices we suffered, we found that, more often than not, they responded. 

At first it was one person at a time.  Then it was one organization at a time. 

And although it took almost 15 years after the movement began, in 1988 the Congress of the United States finally passed the Civil Liberties Act, formally apologizing for the internment.  And President Reagan signed it into law. 

I have long believed that there is no more noble work than the drive to ensure that all the people of this great Nation have the chance to achieve  --  and contribute  --  to their fullest potential. 

Many of you in this room today are part of that great work.  You are part of it by virtue of the leadership roles you play in your operating administrations.  You are part of it by working to help and support your fellow DOT employees.   

And you make yourself a part of that work when you share your own hopes and aspirations with those who may not have understood them before  --  and when you help them understand. 

I am very proud of this Department, and all the men and women who are its heart and soul.  We keep the Nation and the economy moving.  We work to keep our fellow Americans and our communities safe and secure.  And we work to make this a better America for all of us.

 We cannot do that job without every single member of our DOT family, and that is the message that we gather here to celebrate today, United in Pride. 

Thank you all for being here, thank you for your commitment to equal opportunity at the Department, and thank you for allowing me to be with you today. 

Thank you, and God Bless America.

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Briefing Room