"I won't lie to you; I was hysterical," Ramona Gatto recalls when she learned of the district attorney's disclosure. "What world am I living in when I get sued for being a homosexual and raising this child? I'd been a lesbian before -- the only difference is that a very powerful, religious man found out about it and decided to push his friend toward getting custody." Her eyes narrow. "The only reason [Timothy] came back for her is that he found out I'm a big, huge, flaming dyke."
Others, however, had apparently known about Gatto's sexual orientation long before the custody battle rejoined. In sworn court testimony, both of the police officers involved in the disturbance at Gatto's home say that -- although they were discreet and rarely openly affectionate in public -- they attended gay bars with Ramona and occasionally introduced each other to co-workers and friends.
Paolo Vescia
Ramona Gatto is the only woman to
hold world titles in
three weight divisions: Flyweight,
Bantamweight, and
Featherweight.
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In January 2002, Federal Judge Marilyn Hall Patel dismissed Gatto's federal claims, saying that gays and lesbians are not accorded heightened protection under the U.S. Constitution, and that Ramona Gatto was not concealing her sexual identity. But Patel also told Gatto she should try her luck in state court. So Gatto refiled in California.
"The California state constitution, between case law and amendments, has specifically said there's a right to privacy that extends into people's bedrooms and into their private lives," says attorney Gold, who has joined San Francisco attorney Steve Phillips on Gatto's legal team. "People can't define families as Ozzie and Harriet anymore."
But Leigh Herman, the deputy county counsel who has been on the Gatto case, she says cheerfully, since "absolute day one," expects the case will receive no different treatment on the state level.
"The attorney general issued a statement, we won in federal court -- I don't think she's ever going to prove the DA did something wrong here," Herman says. "The federal judge found that Ramona was already out, the police report was public, and that her expectation it would remain private could not be reasonable.
"And even if what she says is true, what's her damage?" Herman continues. "When I took her deposition, I asked, 'Were you humiliated?' She said, 'No, I'm proud of who I am.' One of the things that we argued to the federal court is that even if she could establish the DA did something wrong -- and we're saying he didn't -- how has she suffered?"
Ongoing court battles have left Ramona Gatto financially drained, she says, without the money to send Marina to the kind of top-flight university she deserves. The Gattos have been the subject of jeering, taunts, and property defacement. Ramona feels targeted by a county and a court system that her lawyers say has felt "political pressure" to protect the district attorney and Gatto's ex-husband. And she wants, more than anything, to be compensated for the costs of her custody battle -- which, by all appearances, was indeed petty and unnecessary. "This child is my life," she says emphatically, and it's hard not to feel sympathy for a family that has been dragged through the legal system far too many times in its relatively short history.
But when asked what she's learned from her ordeal, if it has, in any way, made it easier for her to embrace her sexual identity, Gatto gives the impression that she's still fighting that custody battle, still trying to prove what the courts have already agreed on: She's a perfectly capable mother, raising a perfectly charming young girl. Launching into a monologue about how everyone -- the county, the media, the courts -- is obsessed with labels, determined to take away her pride, and confused about her public image vs. her private life, she actually makes it impossible not to be confused.
"Our world has changed entirely because of this," she says, staring out her living room window at a leafy back yard. "The information they took was private, and they chose to do something awful with it by using it to fuel a custody battle. I've always been living my life --"
"Quietly," Gold interjects from the couch.
"Quietly and peacefully," Ramona Gatto continues, undaunted. "I've never been ashamed of being a lesbian, if that's how they want to refer to me. I never didn't embrace it. This has just made me realize labels are so unimportant. They want to make it an embarrassing part of me, but I'm showing you I'm not embarrassed. Up comes a big rainbow flag out there, I'll wear a rainbow shirt." She's standing now, and she again gestures to the pictures of herself, fighting, around the room. "I've been in the spotlight my whole life. There were always two sides of me: the 'Bad Girl' and Ramona. When I'm in the ring, I'm the bad girl, and people have always confused that."
Gold clears his throat, leaning forward to say: "That's a professional persona, which is important to point out."
"But this," Gatto says, pointing to her daughter and her partner, "this is my private life." She frowns, her muscles flexing as she crosses her arms on her chest. "And it's important to be an example to other people, to show how they tried to embarrass me, and I won't allow that to happen. We, as a family, say, 'No. This shouldn't happen in this county.' And by us standing up, it's going to be harder for this to happen to another wonderful family in this county."
Gold chuckles, and says, "Now put that into a 12-word-or-less quote." If only Ramona Gatto could.
