Still Standing: The Untold Story of My Fight Against Gossip, Hate, and Political Attacks

by Carrie Prejean

  But aside from businesses, there were also religious organizations in San Francisco that were put at risk. The Catholic Church has a non-profit subsidiary called Catholic Charities. It received $5.6 million in city contracts to serve 70,000 people, including homeless families, homeless young people, and people with AIDS. The new law on domestic partner benefits was supposed to apply to Catholic Charities just as it applied to Apple. Now the Catholic Church, of course, does not approve of unmarried couples living together, or of homosexual behavior. The city was telling them: So what? They had to provide a subsidy for any employees they had who lived in violation of the teachings of the Catholic Church as a matter of San Francisco law.

  I am not a Catholic. But I do know this from my Catholic friends—the Catholic Church would turn the Vatican into a parking garage before it would overturn Catholic teaching. But the city wouldn’t back down, either.

  Archbishop William J. Levada, leader of the city’s 200,000 Catholics at the time, complained to the city that religious organizations “must also be permitted to maintain their operations (including employee benefit plans) in a manner that is consistent with their religious principles. This ensures respect for the constitutional guarantees of free speech and religious freedom.”

  The mayor at that time, the ever-colorful Willie Brown, told the San Francisco Examiner, “I don’t think the city should provide any funding with any entity that doesn’t comply with city law.” He also said: “If Catholic Charities doesn’t want to comply, then it should relinquish the funding so that other nonprofits can do their work.” In short, Willie Brown was trying to take the place of the pope in dictating the beliefs of the Roman Catholic Church. Either the Church had to compromise its beliefs or it had to cease doing the good work the city had commissioned it to do. In the end, Archbishop Levada came up with a clever compromise: he allowed Church employees to name anyone who lived at home with them to be their beneficiary, which kept the Church from endorsing what it thinks are immoral lifestyles and was good enough for the mayor of San Francisco.

  That they reached a compromise was great, but the intrusion of government policy into religious life is only going to get worse if antiChristian political correctness keeps gaining ground. In 2009, Joe Solmonese, president of the Human Rights Campaign, a lobbying group for “gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender equal rights,” was quoted as saying: “When religious organizations step into the public sphere, it should not be surprising to people that they are bound to adhere to the laws in the states that they are operating in.” Does that mean that laws can be passed to discriminate against religious beliefs, as in the case of Tyler Harper in Poway?

  Maggie Gallagher reviewed the implications of this statement in the pages of National Review. She wrote:I have been turning these questions over in my mind ever since I became aware of how serious the religious-liberty impact of gay marriage is likely to be. If the negative effects of gay marriage on religious people and institutions are an unintended consequence, why not step forward with generous consequence protections? And if the legal pressures on religious groups are an intended consequence, that’s something the American people are entitled to know.

  Even where you think the positive results of Christian ministry for the public good are unmistakable, liberals are there to try to end the good that’s being done.

  Chuck Colson is a familiar figure to people of my parent’s generation. Involved in the Watergate scandal, he came out of prison a changed man. He dedicated his life to Christ by founding Prison Fellowship to reach prisoners, ex-prisoners, and their families with the transforming love and word of Jesus Christ. He has his work cut out for him. There are 2.3 million people imprisoned in the United States today.

  Mark Early of the Justice Fellowship, a related Christian organization, notes that some 400,000 of these 2.3 million will be rearrested within three years. “Why?” he asks. “Because merely warehousing prisoners leaves them unprepared to reenter society as productive citizens. Indeed, it makes them worse.”

  This recognition led Christian groups to create the InnerChange Freedom Initiative, or IFI, a faith-based program with a proven track record of rehabilitating prisoners. IFI is a purely voluntary association. No prisoner is forced to join. It is also so effective that the state of Iowa funded 40 percent of the program, with the other 60 percent coming from private donors. (If you’d like details on IFI’s programs you can visit the IFI website at: www.ifiprison.org.) You would think that something as useful and compassionate as this program would be without controversy. And yet a liberal organization, Barry Lynn’s Americans United for the Separation of Church and State, sued the state of Iowa, IFI, and Prison Fellowship, claiming that the initiative was unconstitutional. A judge agreed.

  He shut down the program and ordered the organizations to repay $1.5 million to the state of Iowa—a heavy burden for a few nonprofits. What is so wrong with the initiative in the eyes of the judge? It is centered around the teachings of Jesus Christ.

  The ruling is a faith-buster. Mark Earley of Justice Fellowship says it “could call into question any religious program in state, federal, or local prisons. Merely facilitating a faith-based program could be deemed unconstitutional if this ruling stands.”

  Early went on to say that the $1.5 million repayment is “unprecedented and sets a troubling precedent. When you combine this legal order with the high legal costs of defending these kinds of suits, the message to faith-based groups is clear: We don’t want faith-based groups coming into the public square to offer charitable services.”

  For liberals, the First Amendment is a one-edged sword. When it comes to protecting the rights of Christians to voice our beliefs, it cuts against us. When it comes to the no-establishment of religion clause of the First Amendment, it cuts against us again. It cuts far beyond anything I am sure George Washington or James Madison ever meant or imagined—so that even offering religion as one path to reform is illegal.

  All along the way, as I write this book on my aunt’s computer, it continues to strike me as odd that I am doing this before graduating from college. Why should you listen to me? I certainly never thought of myself as intellectually gifted in the way that a political science professor is. I never thought of myself as the spokeswoman for a political cause. I never envisioned myself as having a national audience for my thoughts on freedom of religion. But I know why I do. I think the answer is simple. People listen to me, not, as Donald Trump would have it, because I am pretty. People listen to me because they are too terrified of the political-correctness buzz-saw to speak for themselves; they see me as someone that the liberal media tried to leave behind as road kill. But the media failed, and I speak for those too fearful, too intimidated by political correctness to speak out for themselves.

  At one of my last events as Miss California, the jewelers’ convention in Las Vegas, many people came up to me to tell me that I am a hero to them. Long lines formed for my autograph. Among them were a bunch of men who were there to provide security (for the jewelry, not me!). These were big, burly men with gunbelts and thick, bullet-proof vests, a SWAT team for security.

  While I was signing away, one of them leaned over to me and whispered, “I am with you.”

  I looked up at him.

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Because,” he said, “I am in uniform.”

  So?

  I just stared at him. Why do you, a big man armed to the teeth, have to look to a 21-year-old beauty queen to voice your beliefs out loud? Is this what we’ve come to? Are Americans so cowed by political correctness that we are afraid to voice a reasonable belief? If it is okay for gays come out of the closet, is it necessary for the rest of us to go into one?

  Everywhere I went—in the control room of the Today Show, on the streets of New York, people would walk up to me to thank me for voicing their opinion. Some are A-list celebrities. One of them has her own highly rated TV show. Why can’t they voice their own opinion? Why are they so afraid?


  I think back to Donald Trump when he was asked at his press conference what he thought of gay marriage. Even the Donald punted. Even he has to hide with other celebrities and burly SWAT men behind . . . a beauty queen!

  Again, I know what they are afraid of. You get attacked as a bigot. You get attacked for behavior you never indulged in but that your attackers certainly did. I don’t hate gay people, but I have been attacked in the most hateful manner imaginable. I never use foul language against someone else, yet I am regularly called a “dumb bitch” and a “c**t.” I don’t go around making threats to gay people, but I have been threatened with my life. I never tried to bully anyone, yet my enemies tried to bully me out of my beliefs. I never said that Keith Lewis or anyone else should be fired because they are gay, yet I lost the crown of Miss California and probably of Miss USA because of who I am, a sincere Evangelical Christian.

  As I read the hostile blogs and newspaper columns of my enemies, I get a sense that part of the problem is that many liberals on the other side of this issue get steamed up by what they imagine Evangelical Christians like me are thinking or saying behind closed doors.

  Here is how one British writer in The Guardian imagines what is going on inside my head.

  ‘Cuz that’s not what God, who was testing her faith by having one of those darn touchy queers ask her the question, wants. The only reason God even makes gay people is to test the faith of sweet Christian heterosexuals—he doesn’t put them here to live full lives of their own and fall in love and have families and get married. Duh!

  As I think I’ve made clear, those were not my thoughts at all, and to characterize Christian thinking in this way just betrays an ignorance of who Evangelical Christians really are.

  In the course of this experience, I’ve seen many liberals get themselves worked up—not so much about what I said, but about what they assume me to mean. To put it plainly, is standing up for traditional marriage—marriage as our country has always understood it—really the act of a hateful, narrow-minded bigot? Just to say that should show how obviously ridiculous the liberal position is. But that’s the way liberals want to slant the debate: all their opponents are bigots.

  Over a summer weekend in 2009, protestors came to The Rock, the church I attend, angry about the church’s stand on Proposition 8. They waved a rainbow flag, their symbol of diversity. They expected us to either ignore them or confront them with anger. Instead, a group of our people from The Rock came out to hand them water and breakfast bars, and even help the protesters carry their flag to the park near our church. The protestors had one idea of us. I think they were amazed to see who we really are. We are people who, as Christians always say, might hate the sin but love the sinner.

  There are gays outside The Rock and gays who are regular worshippers inside The Rock. When it comes to a traditional, Biblically correct view of marriage, Miles will not compromise or water down his belief in what the Bible says: that God created man and woman to be married and be made one. God created sex to be an expression of oneness between a husband and his wife. In my experience, Miles challenges heterosexuals to sexual purity more often than homosexuals, and he believes in sharing his Christian spirit of love and fellowship with all members of the congregation, whatever their state of life. He says that The Rock’s membership includes gays—and “we are honored to have them.”

  Cartoonish ideas of other people often lead to hate and strife. When you come across a living, breathing cartoon like Perez Hilton, it would be easy to give in to disliking everyone who is gay. But I am thankful for all the gay people I’ve known for keeping me from that.

  Just after I was fired, I attended the Ronald Reagan Library in Simi Valley as a guest speaker. After I spoke, two nice, middle-aged women came up to my mom and told her that they thought I was wonderful. They said they were a lesbian couple and that they had been following me and supporting me all along. These are two Americans who understand the principle of free speech. They may not agree with me, but they were just as horrified as anyone else at the hate campaign.

  Andrew Sullivan, a famous columnist, blogger, and gay man who advocates for same-sex marriage, had this to say: “Carrie Prejean has had to go through some really bad stuff she didn’t deserve, just for inarticulately expressing a valid opinion in front of Perez Hilton.”

  I hope I wasn’t inarticulate. But I am grateful for Mr. Sullivan—who passionately disagrees with me—for seeing my position as “valid.” That is the kind of language that builds respect and healing.

  I have also heard from an organization called Empowering Spirits Foundation, or ESF, a national lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender civil rights organization. They called on everyone “to move forward and cease” condemning me.

  “Demeaning Carrie Prejean or others by using terms such as bigot will not advance our cause of civil rights and social justice,” they wrote. “The LGBT community must use this period of heightened attention on LGBT issues by engaging others in positive ways,” said A. Latham Staples, Empowering Spirits Foundation executive director. “We must not marginalize someone just because they believe differently, as this is the very respect in differing opinion we are asking for from them.” Bingo.

  They went on to write: “Though ESF strongly disagrees with Prejean’s viewpoint regarding same-sex marriage, we believe the hatred expressed by some in the LGBT community for Prejean is unjust. She was asked a question and took the risk to answer it based off of her convictions, knowing that her answer would be scrutinized. While ESF disagrees with her opinion, she had every right to answer the question based on how she felt.”

  I appreciate that so much! That, it seems to me, is the sort of freedom of speech, and tolerance, that my grandfather risked his life to defend when he fought at the Battle of the Bulge; that is the American way.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Stand Up for Yourself

  Letters have been coming to me by the yard since I made my first Today Show appearance.

  One letter I received was from a father about his little girl, Emily. It has stuck with me.

  When she was born the nurses said, “Oh, she is a beautiful baby!” Well, we know that in truth most babies when they are first born—they are not the prettiest to behold. But the nurses assured us—“no, we’re serious; we see a lot of babies; and she is really beautiful.” Of course, we are just happy as all get out to be first-time parents, so we really didn’t think too much about it!

  As Emily grew into a baby, and toddler, and little girl, my wife when going out with her into public to go to the grocery store, etc., would constantly have strangers come up to her and tell her how beautiful her daughter was. After a while, with all this unsolicited attention, we realized that perhaps there was something to all of the comments and attention. Where I am going with all this, is that as a father this started to create serious concern within me. Here was my little girl that to the world she was outwardly very pleasing, very beautiful. My mind went into protection mode. And as I prayed and thought about this, I realized that her protection began within herself.

  So ever since she was about 2 years old, I have had a saying with my daughter . . .“Which is more important: pretty on the inside? Or pretty on the outside?” And I have ingrained pretty on the inside, explaining that a person cannot be truly beautiful unless they are pretty on the inside, and that means that they have Christ in their heart. Emily has the outward beauty thing down. I wanted to do what I could as a father to ground her inner values. She has since asked Christ into her heart, praying with her mother when she was six to enter that most sacred relationship with our Lord.

  He goes on to write . . .When Emily was around four or five years old, I was driving her to pre-school, and was talking about pretty on the inside again. At that time, the incident with Paris Hilton landing in trouble and going to jail hit the news. And I explained to my little girl that here was Paris, a very beautiful woman with lots of things going for her. And yet she had some very bad habits
and made some very bad choices. Of course, people can change, and it may be so for Paris. Yet for purposes of illustration, Paris became the example of someone who was not pretty on the inside.

  Carrie, I write because I am thankful to find the example of a beautiful lady who IS pretty on the inside. There are a lot of beautiful girls out there. They need role models to know that it can be a wonderful thing and a God-given blessing to be made beautiful, a woman who is also capable, confident, smart, and courageous. Thank you for being true to God’s leading and being true to who He has made you to be.

  This father suggested—and I blush at the suggestion—that I am a role model who should give advice to girls. Well, I have always tried to be a role model. And I do know that I have learned a lot through experience, and there is nothing I would like more than to help young girls avoid the many pitfalls that can await them out there in the world, to do what they can to cultivate inner beauty, the beauty that matters most. It’s so unfortunate that the only models so many girls today have of what a young woman should be are pop icons like Miley Cyrus, who are anything but moral examples.

  So let me try to present the right kind of example with this chapter. I won’t do it—in fact, I can’t do it—from a pedestal of imaged perfection. But I can do it as someone who strives to live the right way, as someone who has been tested in a public trial by fire, and as a young woman who has struggled hard against challenges that many other young women will face. I hope I can offer some useful lessons, lessons grounded in what faith and experience have taught me. A crisis has a way of sharpening perception, and I think in the wake of the controversy that engulfed me, that seized a crown from my head, ripped a sash from my shoulder, and put my character on trial (after a frenzy of mudslinging), that eight lessons stand as signposts—signposts that I want to guide my own path in the future, and that others might find helpful, too.