"Finding a Way to Win Gay in an Evolving Historical Movement: How Harvey Milk’s Rhetoric Led Him to San Francisco City Supervisor"
by Samantha Gowdey | Xchanges 15.2, Fall 2020
Contents
Background and Overview: Who Was Harvey Milk?
Setting America up for an Inclusive Future through Deliberative Oratory and Identification: 1973
A New Appearance and Response to his Audience's Concerns with Ethos: 1975
Responding to New Political Enemies with the Theme of Hope: 1977
Milk's Rhetorical Legacy: "This is to be played only in the event of my death by assassination"
Milk’s Rhetorical Legacy: “This is to be played only in the event of my death by assassination”
On November 27, 1978, ten months and eighteen days after his inauguration, Milk and Mayor Moscone were shot and killed by former City Supervisor Dan White. Predicting he would die early, Milk recorded a “Political Will” on a cassette tape that was only to be played in the event of his assassination—carrying his rhetorical stance beyond his death.
In his “Political Will,” Milk acknowledged that people would be angry at the person who killed him. Speaking to his supporters, he said, “I hope they will take that frustration and that madness instead of demonstrating or anything of that type, I would hope that they would take that power and I would hope that five, ten, one hundred, one thousand would rise” (248), which is what his followers did when they turned their anger into profound silence. Across the nation, supporters of Milk and the gay liberation movement, used silence to prove their point. Marching through the Castro District, letting their candle lights do the speaking, those who loved and looked up to Milk did exactly what he would have wanted, which was rhetorically using silence to continue the fight for LGBTQ equality. This example further proves that rhetorical silence can be more powerful than words.
A rhetor’s power is being able to lead the audience toward new meanings during a journey. Although Milk’s “Political Will” did help his audience towards new understandings of his character and the reasons behind his persistent campaigning, Milk never bought his journey to an end. He continued to influence his audience to fight for an inclusive future for both San Francisco and the world. This shows how strong of a rhetor Milk truly was. Although his first two campaigns were rough, based on ineffective uses of rhetoric, Milk’s final campaign showed his growth as a rhetor. He was able to learn from his mistakes and reach his goal of City Supervisor by adapting his rhetoric to fit the growing needs of his audience in an everchanging world.
Milk asked the following from his listeners:
I ask for the movement to continue, for the movement to grow because last week, I got a phone call from Altoona, Pennsylvania, and my election gave somebody else, one more person, hope. And after all it’s what this is all about. It's not about personal gain, not about ego, not about power – it’s about giving those young people out there in the Altoona, Pennsylvania’s hope. You gotta give them hope.” (249)
Milk’s death was just the beginning. He remains the staple figure of gay the rights movement, and he deserves recognition for changing the lives of young LGBTQ folx during the 1970s. Black and Morris write, “we aim to keep Harvey talking, and we hope generations will earnestly engage in the work of queer listening” (44). Milk will never be silenced. His rhetoric will continue to influence those struggling with acceptance as he remains the face of hope for the LGBTQ community.