I’m writing this before Election Day, but you are reading this after the big event. Perhaps now you know what Colorado is going to do about gay people. Will the Colorado Constitution prevent their marriage? Will Colorado statutes now address domestic partnerships?

Why write about a subject that might be decided by the time this article appears? Because it won’t be decided. Election or no election, the debate concerning the place of gay people in our society will be with us for many years to come. In a moment, I’d like to comment on one of the most encouraging stories to emerge from this otherwise disheartening topic, but first…

Bigotry is rooted in fear, but it’s fear of the unknown. I suspect those most fearful of gays, ironically, are those least likely to encounter them. Or perhaps they do, but unknowingly, because in many communities, gay people, or anyone perceived as “different,” often feel compelled to disguise themselves.

The words on the ballots, as with Amendment 43, fail to explain the motivations behind anti-gay initiatives. The proponents insist the public has an interest in preserving the commonly accepted definition of marriage. Therefore, apparently marriage is threatened by gay people. Apparently, if gay people continue unchecked, eventually they will overrun this notion of marriage between a man and a woman (just one of each, by the way). Apparently, sometime in the future, some young man and young woman will desire to enter the traditional state of blissful matrimony and find it… gone!

Words like “preserving marriage” mislead. Marriage is not in danger, and if it ever was, it was years ago when the divorce rate in this country first exceeded 50%. Where were these righteous defenders of marriage then?

Let’s call it like it is. We humans have a long history of fearing those who differ from some mainstream notion of “normal.” Isn’t it clear by now that “normal” is a moving target? Once it was normal to perceive natives as savages to be eliminated, for women to be excluded from voting or holding normal jobs, and for black people to be denied the same rights as white people.

Fortunately, this discussion includes something more positive than bigotry and zealotry, even if it starts with one of the saddest stories ever.

We just passed the eighth anniversary of Matthew Shepard’s murder. Soon thereafter was born the Matthew Shepard Foundation, led by Judy Shepard, Matthew’s mother.

I remember hearing her give a speech back then. I found her to be ill-suited for the role, shrinking back from the spotlights, with her timid-sounding voice. I remember predicting to myself that the Foundation would ride the wave of sorrow for a year or two, perhaps attracting some attention, before petering out, as the tragedy faded into history.

My prediction was shortsighted. The Matthew Shepard Foundation is an undeniable success story. The foundation is a powerful force for change, supporting diversity programs in education and helping youth organizations establish environments where young people can feel safe and be themselves.

Judy Shepard herself has evolved into a commanding presence, “a vocal, plane-hopping crusader against bigotry and hate,” as US Weekly described her. She has now addressed over one million young people about the consequences of hate language and violence. She and her organization turn heads and open minds.

So, in spite of the fact that we continue to live in a society where bigotry can work its way onto a ballot, there’s hope. Regardless of the outcome of Amendment 43, we see progress, as an unspeakable tragedy evolves into a force for enlightenment.