Editorial: Orlando, other Florida cities shine with hope against bigotry

Over the past six years or more, Florida has been making a name for itself (and not a good one) by working to turn back the clock on fundamental human rights. Our governor in particular seems to be obsessed (and not in a good way) over the very fact that drag queens exist, and infuriated by educators’ efforts to create safe spaces for students struggling with their orientation or gender identity.

It’s why so many groups who worry about civil rights have put Florida on watchlists and are even threatening boycotts. But even as the darkness grows, points of brilliant light still shine. And we’re proud to see Orlando counted among them. Earlier this month, the City Beautiful was awarded a perfect score of 100 on the Human Rights Campaign Foundation’s Municipal Equality Index, which recognizes cities with strong protections for LGBTQ+ residents.

“Our work to put inclusion and equity at the forefront of all that we do must and will continue. Orlando will keep showing that love is stronger than hate,” Mayor Buddy Dyer said in response to the recognition. Orlando’s strong protections are often linked with 2016’s horrific Pulse nightclub massacre, but this is the 10th consecutive year Orlando has earned a perfect score on the MEI, and Patty Sheehan, Orlando’s first openly LGBTQ city commissioner, has served since 2000.

As Florida’s LGBTQ+ rights are attacked, love still thrives in Orlando | Commentary

Closer to the heart

The MEI recognizes something important. Florida state leaders may gin up hatred with measures such as the infamous “Don’t Say Gay” law, that stigmatizes and endangers LGBTQ students; attacks on health-care rights for transgender individuals of all ages and free-speech restrictions including book bans. The openly hostile political climate in Tallahassee to the LGBTQ community has rolled back decades of hard-fought, incremental gains in a state that for decades was notorious for its homophobia.

But cities can push back, and it means so much when they do.

Florida’s local leaders know their communities. They know that most of their own constituents — even in parts of the state colored deep red — are not troubled by the idea that LGBTQ+ residents deserve to live their lives free of fear and discrimination.

The MEI ranking, coming from one of the nation’s largest civil-rights organizations, acknowledges seven other Florida cities — Fort Lauderdale, Miami, Tampa, St. Petersburg, Wilton Manors, Hollywood and Oakland Park — with perfect scores. Of the 18 Florida cities in the MEI, an additional five were marked high enough to be considered All-Star cities (a designation that reflects outstanding municipal protections in so-called “states of emergency” where legislators and governors have cruelly targeted LGBTQ+ people. Ironically, Tallahassee — as a municipality — is among those all-stars).

It’s worth noting the cities that aren’t ranked in the MEI, but are also standing strongly and with dignity against attempts by the Legislature and Gov. Ron DeSantis to revive hatred as official state policy. Earlier this year, the Mount Dora City Council calmly refused to back off its adoption of a Safe Place program, despite blustery threats from members of Lake County’s legislative delegation. What triggered Sen. Dennis Baxley, and Reps. Keith Truenow, Taylor Yarkosky and Stan McClain so badly? The plan for city police to distribute stickers to merchants who want to voluntarily designate their willingness to shelter people who fear they may be targeted with violence.

That ugly confrontation brings home a fundamental message: The local policies and rules that the Municipal Equality Index strives to recognize are not “special” protections. They are measures meant to safeguard residents and visitors to the Sunshine State from the very real dangers that still leave LGBTQ+ people in the crosshairs for workplace discrimination, health care disparity, legal-system barriers and most of all, threats or acts of physical harm.

The standards used by the MEI reflect that. Benchmarks include anti-discrimination policies in housing, health care, employment and contracting; human rights advocacy by elected officials and city government agencies; law enforcement’s active efforts to meet the needs of the LGBTQ community, the strength of a commitment to an inclusive workplace: and effective leadership on LGBTQ issues by elected city officials.

It’s troubling and frankly puzzling to see Daytona Beach ranked abysmally low in the MEI. Its score of 27 on the 100-point scale reflects almost no effort to safeguard against homophobia. In a city where Democrats outnumber Republicans, this could be a result of laziness rather than bigotry, but residents should demand better from elected leaders.

Keeping hope alive

Outside of Daytona Beach, however, Florida cities included in the MEI did relatively well. That gives us hope that the current levels of state-level animosity reflect nothing more than a phase Florida is going through — that our collective future is one where equality is on the agenda and discrimination is simply not tolerated. Where politicians stop looking for new culture war distractions, and tackle the real problems facing Floridians.

Orlando nonprofits rise to support homeless LGBTQ youth amid statewide restrictions

As Sheehan said in a 2022 release celebrating Orlando’s ninth perfect 100 in the MEI, “it is more important than ever to treat every resident in our community with respect.” Amen. For now, only way for Florida to escape this hateful darkness is one city at a time, and Orlando proudly shines like a beacon of hope.

The Orlando Sentinel Editorial Board consists of Opinion Editor Krys Fluker, Editor-in-Chief Julie Anderson and Viewpoints Editor Jay Reddick. This editorial incorporates parts of an editorial by the South Florida Sun Sentinel. Contact us at insight@orlandosentinel.com.