In a democratic society where the majority rules, change can take a long time -- even after attitudes have begun to shift. For instance, although most Americans would give at least lip-service to the concept that men and women are equal citizens deserving of equal opportunity, attorney Deborah L. Rhode estimates that "at current rates of change, it still would take more than three centuries to achieve equality between the sexes in political representation."

And, of course, merely electing equal numbers of males and females is not the same as electing people with a firm commitment to human equality. Yet a transformative vision of gender equity is necessary in order to transcend, convince, and overcome the opposition of moneyed, seniority-oriented "old boy" networks. As Rhode comments in her 1997 book Speaking of Sex, "we are unlikely to establish gender equality as a political priority without substantial changes in the electoral process." Although Rhode is talking chiefly about dimorphic male-female equality, what she says is just as true in the context of achieving omnigender equity or any other positive social change.

How then to bring about change a little more rapidly than three centuries? Rhode offers some suggestions born of her several decades as professor at Stanford Law School: Those who care must agitate for campaign finance reform so that the system is "less hostage to financial influence"; must try to increase voter knowledge; and must seek public recognition of gender pioneers. Only 5 percent of national historic landmarks are currently dedicated to women. Imagine the percentage of publicly displayed paintings, statues, and plaques honoring transsexual leaders, or gay or lesbian leaders! Even retrieving our history is a major project, let alone achieving public recognition. I remember gazing in awe at the bust of lesbian novelist Willa Cather in the state capitol in Lincoln, Neb. Even though she was being honored for her local-color artistry, not for her transgender leadership, it was a first for me, and a great moment.

Rhode also suggests the old standbys: writing letters, organizing fund-raisers, building networks among colleagues and friends, sending checks to organizations with gender-related concerns. "Overall," Rhode writes, "America's foundations target less than 5 percent of their funding to the specific needs of women and girls. Some 60 women's funds are now struggling to fill the gap, but their endowments remain quite modest."

The need for funding is even more desperate, of course, in those organizations that are working to expand society beyond binary gender definitions. In my own charitable giving, increasingly I am trying to give larger percentages to those organizations least likely to attract widespread funding because of their cutting- edge commitment to justice for people of all sexes and/or genders. I hope others will do the same as the following principles become better known: that male-female gender differences have been overemphasized because of unquestioning acceptance of the binary gender construct; that everybody suffers because that construct does not meet the needs of society as well as an omnigender construct promises to do; and that the objective of an omnigendered society, according to Martine Rothblatt in The Apartheid of Sex (Crown, 1995), is "to provide equal, non-discriminatory opportunity for personal fulfillment to all persons."

As much as I support Deborah Rhode's suggestions, however, I am still left pondering her statement that if we are ever to make gender equity a priority in American politics, we need "substantial changes in the electoral process." Lani Guinier is someone who has given considerable thought to those "substantial changes." Although Guinier's focus is primarily racial equity, Yale law professor Stephen L. Carter, writing in the foreword to Guinier's 1994 book, The Tyranny of the Majority (The Free Press), is certainly correct that "whenever there are consistent winners and losers, her analysis applies." In my opinion, Guinier is a person to take very seriously because of her honorable career as a civil rights litigator with, as Carter comments, "a deep firsthand knowledge of both the theory and practice of her art."

President Clinton has admitted that withdrawing his nomination of Guinier to head the Civil Rights Division of the Justice Department was the low moment of his first year in the White House. And since the transgender political movement is also a civil rights movement, we do well to consider Guinier's suggestions about how to break through the tyranny about which she writes.

Guinier's point is that, "In an ideal democracy, the people would rule, but the minorities would also be protected against the power of majorities." To achieve that, "we may need an alternative to winner-take-all majoritarianism ... the 'principle of taking turns.'" But "giving the minority a turn does not mean the minority gets to rule; what it does mean," Guinier explains, "is that the minority gets to influence decision-making and [therefore] the majority rules more legitimately." When minorities perceive that the system is fair enough to respond to their concerns, political stability is enhanced: "Losers continue to work within the system rather than seeking to overthrow it."

For decades I have been involved in the effort to achieve equal representation and opportunity for women in Christian ministries and in local and national religious decision-making bodies. And for almost as long, I have been active in the effort to achieve justice for Christian gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender (glbt) people. Repeatedly, these causes have been frustrated by the tyranny of the majority. For instance, according to John Leland, who reported on two Newsweek polls last March, although "only" 46 percent of the American general public still believes that homosexuality is sinful, those churchgoers who are elected as delegates to denominational conventions tilt in the other direction, with roughly 46-48 percent supportive of equality for their gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender members, and about 52-54 percent denying that equality on the basis of the "sinful lifestyle." Yet that slim majority continues to block access to church rituals or union ceremonies for those glbt members who request them.

And although 83 percent of the general public says that homosexuals should have equal rights in employment, within most Christian denominations that 52-54 percent majority continues to block the ordination of openly glbt ministers or priests. In many local congregations where a large minority wants to proclaim the congregation a welcoming and safe space for glbt people, that move is similarly blocked by the tyranny of a small majority.

It is in these and similar situations that Guinier's suggestions could make a difference. One of her suggestions is to give minorities a voice in the decision-making process by the use of cumulative voting. Each voter is given multiple votes which they can distribute as they see fit. For instance, a church voting on five new policies could give each member ten votes, which they could distribute according to the intensity of their preference. Some voters might put all ten of the their votes for or against a policy that would forcefully impact their lives. Other voters, feeling less strongly impacted, might put two votes for or against each policy. "Like-minded voters can vote as a solid bloc, or, instead, form strategic cross-racial [and/or cross-interest] coalitions to gain mutual benefits. This system ... allows voters to organize themselves on whatever basis they wish."

Therefore, Guinier says, "any self-identified minority can plump or cumulate all its votes for one candidate [or one policy]."

Guinier does not pretend that cumulative voting is a radical new idea; rather, she points out that in Clinton County, Ala., which uses cumulative voting to elect both the school board and the county commission, the system has elected three white Republicans and four Democrats (three white and one black), whereas previously only white Democrats had been able to achieve election. And in some Western European democracies that use similar cumulative voting systems, national legislatures have "as many as 37 percent female members compared to little more than 5 percent in our Congress."

Guinier is more cautious about her second remedial voting tool, supermajority voting, which requires that "more than a bare majority of voters must approve or concur before action is taken." Again, this voting system is nothing new: Guinier points out that it was used to give small-population states equal representation in the U.S. Senate. And the Reagan administration approved the use of supermajority rule in Mobile, Ala., where "the special five-out-of-seven supermajority threshold is still in place today and is credited with increasing racial harmony in that community." The advantage of supermajority voting is, of course, that it gives "bargaining power to all numerically inferior or less powerful groups, be they black, female, or Republican" -- or, I might add, Democrat, people of any non- normative race or ethnicity, and people of any non-normative gender or sexuality.

I am in full agreement with Guinier's basic thesis that "democracy in a heterogeneous society is incompatible with rule by a racial monopoly of any color." And I extend that thesis to say that democracy in a heterogeneous society is incompatible with rule by a gender monopoly or any other monopoly of any one inflexible configuration. l

Virginia Ramey Mollenkott, Professor of English, Emeritus, at the William Paterson University in Wayne, N.J., was guest editor of The Witness' April 2000 issue on sexual and gender ethics. This article is adapted from her forthcoming book, Omnigender: A Christian and Trans-Religious approach to Gender Justice (Spring 2001, The Pilgrim Press).