by Mark Segal, publisher, Philadelphia Gay News

From the moment I heard of Charlie Kirk’s murder, I knew what I wanted to write, and I knew it could only be written by me.

For 56 years I’ve debated people like Charlie Kirk. I’ve been called every name imaginable while on live TV, in front of City Council, and at nonviolent protests. I was once asked by a Philadelphia elected official if I “did it with parakeets.” I’ve been punched, spit on, and threatened with death — one letter from the KKK, saying that I’d been placed on their hit list, is now part of my collection at the Smithsonian. But through it all, I’ve never wavered on one truth: murder is never the answer. I despise violence, even when it’s directed at bigots.

Charlie Kirk was nasty, hateful, and skilled at manipulating conservatives and the media. He thrived on outrage. In my newsroom days, we called such people “media whores.” Over the years, he claimed women shouldn’t be allowed to vote, that Martin Luther King wasn’t a good man, and that the Bible’s call to stone homosexuals was “God’s perfect law.” Stoning meant death.

Charlie Kirk was a man of hate — but that does not mean he deserved to be murdered.

Throughout my life, I’ve met and spoken with people considered homophobic. Some hurled insults at me, some used hate speech to my face. But I kept talking with them. Many in our community still don’t appreciate that this dialogue — with people who hate us — is sometimes necessary. They think you shouldn’t talk to those who disagree with us. But history proves otherwise.

During the height of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, ACT UP’s rallying cry was “Act Up, Fight Back.” That meant civil disobedience, and it meant creating dialogue until people understood. You won’t reach everyone — men like Kirk may never understand — but you will reach someone, and change starts one person at a time.

Violence has no place in our movement. My own life has shown that civil disobedience and conversation can create real change. Through communication, I’ve seen people go from opponents to supporters of our community, including:

• A homophobic city council president who became an ally as mayor.
• A Councilmember who once called me a “fairy,” but later voted for domestic partnerships.
• A Republican governor who compared same-sex marriage to incest, but then ultimately allowed marriage equality in Pennsylvania a year before the Supreme Court ruling.

Talk takes time. A bullet takes a second. Talk can lead to change; a bullet only hardens hate.

My friend Ed Rendell understood this well. When he was campaigning to be governor of Pennsylvania, he once asked me: “When I’m in Central Pennsylvania, people always attack me for my liberal views on LGBT equality. What should I do?”

My advice was simple: hand them the microphone and let them talk as long as they want. What those folks really wanted was to be heard. Charlie Kirk and Donald Trump built their followings by speaking to people who felt silenced or bullied for their opinions. That frustration grows when there’s no dialogue.
Ed Rendell went on to win in a purple state and is still remembered as one of Pennsylvania’s most popular governors. Why? Because he communicated with voters. He didn’t just speak at them.

You can despise the positions Charlie Kirk held. You can call out the poison in his words. But his murder should not be cheered. Nor should the right wing turn him into a martyr. Instead, his death should be a moment to educate, to reach those who think like him, and to remind ourselves: we fight hate with truth, courage, and persistence — not with bullets.

Mark Segal is an American journalist. He is the founder and publisher of Philadelphia Gay News and has won numerous journalism awards for his column “Mark My Words,” including best column by The National Newspaper Association, Suburban Newspaper Association, and The Society of Professional Journalists.