Happy birthday, dear Harvey Milk. You still give us hope.
Go forth and be as queer, as flamboyant, as unique as you are. Harvey Milk died for your right to be queer. For too many of us, the alternative was staying home and the slow, stifling suicide of the closet, or the faster death of addictions or the razor. But some of us came to San Francisco where we could be out and proud: freaky, passionate, kinky, and accepted.