Change of heart

Marc Solomon, the campaign director of MassEquality, succinctly summed up the happenings at 9 West Broadway in Southie on Jan. 16 when he observed that the event was "probably the largest gay event in South Boston's history perhaps."

Solomon's quip drew a burst of knowing laughter from the crowd of about 35 people that had gathered at the home of Frank Ribaudo and his partner Joe Posa -- including the evening's guest of honor, state Rep. Brian Wallace.

Indeed, the gay community fundraiser for Wallace, held in a sprawling condo development, was emblematic of the changing cultural climate in the historically clannish and conservative Southie. It marked the first time that members of the LGBT community have hosted a fundraiser for the lawmaker, who was among the 11 legislators whose last-minute changes of heart on marriage equality secured the defeat of an anti-gay marriage amendment at the June 14 constitutional convention (ConCon). As he has done before, Wallace acknowledged in his remarks to the crowd that just five years ago, "I didn't know any gay couples." He later drew laughs when he noted that the many gay and lesbian constituents who lobbied him on the issue are known around the neighborhood as "the new people." The event raised $2200 for Wallace.

Of course, South Boston still has its pugnacious side. Wallace, a lifelong resident of the neighborhood, recently shared with Bay Windows that he was shoved in a neighborhood convenience store by a constituent who was angry at him for his vote against the marriage amendment. The lawmaker diffused the confrontation by basically telling his assailant he'd punch his light out if he did it again.

But the folks who turned out last week to support Wallace, who as of yet has no one opposing him for re-election this fall, saw a different side of the lawmaker, who chronicled his journey from marriage equality opponent to supporter in a heartfelt speech. For those who think political fundraisers are little more than schmoozefests with a cover charge -- and most of them are -- the events being held for legislators who have cast difficult votes in support of equal marriage are shedding insight into the difficulties lawmakers confronted during the marriage battle.

In introducing Wallace to the crowd, state Rep. Marty Walsh of Dorchester recalled the many hours he spent discussing the issue with Wallace. "And literally it wore on him," said Walsh. "And a lot of times people don't want to hear that. ... It's simple for some people to make a decision and go with it, but other people they really have to come to their own determination." He also recalled how Wallace phoned him just before the June 14 vote to tell him he had decided to vote against the amendment. Walsh could hear in Wallace's voice "that he knew he had made the right decision. Because talking to him before that -- before he made the decision -- he just wasn't convincing anybody, including himself."

Addressing the crowd, Wallace acknowledged that "there was a number of things that I had to go through," in the process of deciding to changing his vote on the anti-gay marriage amendment. One of them was rereading Profiles in Courage, a book he first read some 20 or 30 years ago, at which time he said he found himself hoping he'd never be in the position of such high-stakes decision making. "But I was. I found myself in that position and as I read on, you know, I just felt that, as Marty said, in my heart, in my heart, I knew that I was going to take some serious, serious grief but I knew it was the right thing."

As he has done in a previous Bay Windows interview, Wallace also credited his conversations with openly gay former state legislator Susan Tracy, openly gay state Rep. Liz Malia, Solomon and various constituents with helping him to change his mind.

But there were other factors, he said. Over the summer he came across a quote, attributed to O.A. Battista, that "an error does not become a mistake until we refuse to correct it."

"And I read that over and over again," said Wallace. "An error does not become a mistake until we refuse to correct it." He knew that the vote on the amendment would be close, perhaps just one or two votes, "and that's what I kept thinking about, this quote."

When he cast his vote against the amendment on June 14, he felt relief. "I really, really did. I knew in my heart it was the right thing," he said. Since then, Wallace has been approached by many folks in the neighborhood about his vote. "One guy said to me, 'Brian, you know, if we vote on this, if we vote on this, we win,'" Wallace recalled. "I looked at him and I said, 'First of all, what's this 'we' stuff?'" he said with a laugh. "I said, 'What are you French? What's this 'we' stuff?' I said, 'What do you win if we vote on this?' I said, 'Nobody wins. Nobody wins.'

Wallace also credited his discussions with Governor Deval Patrick and his staff, who predicted that putting the amendment on the ballot would plunge the state into a divisive and damaging campaign. "Deval Patrick, I give him a lot of credit," said Wallace. "You know he never pressured me. He said to me, 'I knew you were struggling, I knew the district you came from and I felt you did the right thing.'"

Wallace said he's okay with people giving him grief over his vote. "I have to live with myself. And I have to live with my daughter right here," added Wallace, who was accompanied to the fundraiser by his 4-year-old daughter Bryanna and his wife, Lauren. Wallace noted that on the day after the vote, Arline Isaacson, co-chair of the Massachusetts Gay and Lesbian Political Caucus told him, "Brian some day your daughter, when she's in college, she's going to read about you."

"Amen," murmured someone on the crowd.

"Enough said," someone else chimed in.

Wallace paused as his voice choked up and his eyes got misty. "And she said, 'She's going to be very, very proud of the vote you made.' So thank you." With that, he turned toward his daughter and gave her a kiss on the head. The room burst into applause.