It's so exciting to see all of you today. You could all be nice and toasty at home, but instead you chose to be here to celebrate National Coming Out Day and to renew the march towards civil rights for the LGBT community and I thank you for that. I'm Kim Hunt and I'm executive director of Affinity Community Services.

I'm going to spend my time today telling you a bit about my organization, giving you a glimpse into my personal reasons for being so passionate about the work ahead of us, and stressing the need to make sure that this work is inclusive of all LGBT communities and their allies.

Affinity Community Services is one of the best kept secrets in Chicago. For nearly 15 years Affinity's leadership and volunteers have been providing community building programs and a safe space for African American lesbians and bisexual women as well as LGBTQ youth of African descent. We are working on being a better resource for our transgender brothers and sisters. And we are very deliberately located on Chicago's South Side. Our work has included health promotion and advocacy, innovative research, youth development, leadership development, social programming, and being a voice for marginalized individuals within the larger LGBT community.

We recently implemented our Youth Leadership Institute, an initiative to provide 12 months of training in social justice, community organizing, and nonprofit management to four individuals each year aged 18-24 who identify as lesbians, or bisexual or transgender women. Through the institute we are helping to train the next generation of leaders for our organization, for the LGBT community at large as well as for our broader society. I am proud to report that two of our Institute Scholars—our summer intern and our youth program coordinator—are at the National March for Equality today!

Although Affinity will be celebrating its 15th year in 2010, I am the organization's first executive director. I have to say that in my wildest dreams, I never thought I'd find myself among the ranks of people known as "professional lesbians." The first three-quarters of my life was pretty mainstream. I went to college, met and married my future husband, had children, and got divorced. A typical American story, right?

While married there were assumptions and expectations—explicit and nuanced—that protected and acknowledged our relationship. For example, although I did not sign our mortgage papers, it was assumed that if my husband should become incapacitated or worse, few people would question my right to have the house. When I took my husband to the hospital emergency room it was expected that I would answer questions regarding his health and insurance when he couldn't and I was allowed to visit him in his hospital room without question. During family or social gatherings, I was introduced as his wife, not his "friend" and people knew what that meant. Our relationship was respected and acknowledged at all levels.

After nearly 10 years of marriage, I made the difficult decision to own my sexual identity and live my true life. That's when I learned how well protected and respected and acknowledged our union was. Even with an amicable split, the process of divorce requires a series of legal maneuvers that highlight the contractual side of marriage. Assets had to be divided, decisions had be made about how much of the children's time would be spent in each parents' home, and when I moved out, it wasn't assumed that my ex-husband would put an ad in the paper to get a new "roommate."

Let's fast forward about 15 years since my divorce. My partner, Mary, and I have been together over 10 years. We pay a mortgage, make major purchases, plan vacations, buy groceries, discuss the needs of our aging parents, and nurture relationships with friends and family together just as my ex-husband and I did when we were married. But, if Mary was to suddenly become ill, I couldn't assume that I would be allowed to make medical decisions for her or even visit her in the hospital. Furthermore, neither of us has automatic rights to a portion of assets acquired during our relationship. And because my name isn't on the mortgage documents for the condo we've shared for 10 years, I cannot assume that I'd have a place to live if anything happened to Mary.

As you can see, my more than 10 years in a same-gender relationship does not have the same weight under the law as my 10 years of heterosexual marriage. This inequality is why we're here at Daley Plaza, why the fights for equality have been waged state by state, and why the National March for Equality and related activities are taking place in Washington, D.C. today.

I love the fact that the language of this movement has shifted from a fight for LGBT rights to a fight for civil rights because this isn't a matter of "deserving" the right to marry or "deserving" to have a safe environment in which to earn a living or simply to live. We are American citizens and we have a right to the full protection and application of just laws that recognize our citizenship and our rights as human beings.

As we transition to this new phase of the movement, demarcated by the National March for Equality, let's pause for a moment of self reflection. The reason that Affinity agreed to be here today is because LGBT Change, the group that organized this rally, has made a concerted effort to reflect the diversity of the LGBT community. We are a patchwork of races and ethnicities and religions and identities, but you wouldn't know that from the images of us that are portrayed in the media.

I respect the work that has been done by national LGBT organizations to raise awareness, fight against unjust laws and policies, create protective laws and policies, and generally advance the rights of our community. That's good work and it must continue. And it must be broadened to better reflect the range of experiences of our diverse population because as long as civil rights for the LGBT community is perceived only as rights for white gay men, we will remain second class citizens as a group.

In this next phase of our movement, we have to forge a dual path to full citizenship, on the one hand we must continue our work on the legislative and policy front and on the other hand we must work on winning the hearts and minds of those who must enforce these laws and policies as well as of those who are our neighbors, fellow church members, co-workers, family members, and other people who we interact with on a daily basis. This is especially true for those of us who come from communities of color. A lot of times we just blend in. Nobody knows we're there. We're out to everyone except the ones who occupy a consistent and long term role in our daily lives as opposed to those in our weekend lives.

When we live that way, we provide fodder for those who think that civil rights for the LGBT community is a white issue or a middle class issue. We allow people to live in their belief that they don't know any gay or lesbian or transgender or queer people and therefore this is not an issue that they have a stake in. And we allow some of our religious leaders to demean and vilify us from the pulpit while we continue to tithe and lend our talents to some of the best gospel choirs in this city.

It's a new day! And we need to own it. More people than ever before are in favor of marriage equality and other rights for the LGBT community. There are more gay and lesbian characters on TV and in the movies than ever before. When Sean Penn, who I remember as this hyper-macho tough guy in the '80s, can convincingly play a gay icon and get away with it—it's a new day!

In honor of National Coming Out Day, I want to discourage us from trying to advance the rights of the LGBT community from the shadows. We have to step into the light so that people understand that this is not a movement of strangers. We're your sons and daughters, your neighbors, your school teachers, your car mechanics, your mail carriers, your garbage collectors, the parents f your classmates, and yes, your hairdresser too. We are Americans and we have a right to expect equality under the law.

I implore my brothers and sisters in this movement and our allies to not let this momentum die. Let's all be the change we want to see. I wish peace and love for each of you. Thank you.

Kim Hunt is executive director of Affinity Community Services, a 15-year-old nonprofit organization that serves African-American lesbians; bisexual and transgender women; and LGBT youth of African descent.