By any other name. (last word).

What's in a name? Juliet, despairing that Romeo's name was the sole barrier thwarting the lovers, asks the question and correctly concludes that "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Yet Romeo was a Montague, and they both died for it. In many ways, we in the GLBT community face the same question. What's in an identity? Every newspaper article or headline addressing my freshman candidacy for California state office in 1994 began with the word lesbian. I wanted to say, in the same breath, "I'm not just a lesbian" and "You bet I'm a lesbian!"

What I did not say is "Well, I just happen to be a lesbian," by which I always think is meant "Don't pay attention to my membership in this particular group; just focus on what a great teacher, scientist, mother, doctor, I am." Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. Fortunately, there seems to be an emerging middle ground in which we identify as gay or lesbian or bi or trans while at the same time it's not the big news about us. It is not, however, no news at all.

I was thinking about this identity knot the other day while reading about Patrick Guerriero, the 33-year-old man chosen by Massachusetts's 36-year-old Republican acting governor, Jane Swift, to be her running mate for lieutenant governor as she seeks a full gubernatorial term. Although Guerriero has been identified in the news as a gay man--the Associated Press even called him "an advocate for gay rights"--he seems to be getting as much press (positively) for his work as a former state legislator and as a former mayor of Melrose, Mass., and (negatively) for his age as he is about his sexual orientation. Perhaps we have reached a new balance, in which we can be known for being gay--and proud of it--as well as being known by our accomplishments.

Martina and Melissa, who don't even need last names anymore, no longer hear or read the labels: lesbian tennis player, lesbian singer. But you don't hear them say they "just happen" to be lesbian. They know that that label also stands for a lifetime of struggle and that others need to know it.

I have a cable show that airs in various cities across the country, called Get Used to It, in which we talk about current issues and interests in the GLBT community. Occasionally I interview an individual instead of hosting a discussion, and the last two shows have featured, coincidentally, men who are gay but who are not doing gay-related work.

Dan Zingale directs the powerful Department of Managed Health Care in California. Gov. Gray Davis is so proud of him, he asked me personally to interview Dan on my show. Dan is so successful at his job that he was recently sued by one of our largest health care providers after he levied a fine against it. The company even asked the federal court to throw Dan in jail for contempt. After only five minutes of deliberation, the judge said no. Dan has been toiling in our community for years, first as an AIDS activist and now as a health activist. He's gay, but that's not the news.

Tom Schumacher directs three divisions at Disney Studios: feature animation, TV animation, and theater (yes, all those Lion Kings and Aidas are his, and Mulan and Belle and ... more). Tom has always been out at work, and he takes his partner of 20-plus years to every event, gathering, and dinner he attends. He is supported at work, but after this magazine profiled him, the hate mail poured in from the outside. The studio had an epiphany about what it means to be gay--that you can be supported at work and tolerated in larger circles but every day you can still be in danger. Perhaps that was the news.

Sexuality has become a central--and at the same time not central--part of one's identity. It's sometimes hurled in an epithet, sometimes spoken with pride. So you say you want an evolution? Who would have thought it could smell so sweet?