I thought it a tasteful, somewhat subtle, well done ad. This was August.
I hadn't yet seen any ads supporting Proposition 8. Then, about a month ago, I was driving home after a long day, and I see a soccer mom van with "Yes on Prop 8" sticker. I have to admit, it created a surprisingly strong reaction in me. I wanted to pull her over and ask her how my marriage to my spouse threatens hers? In fact, I did race to catch up to her thinking I might somehow be able to shout it out the window effectively enough to what? To engage her? To make her re-think her position? I don't know.
There's a lot of hype going around about Prop 8 - some valid, some less valid. Certainly there are inflammatory ads about. And I don't dispute that there is potential that gay marriage COULD be taught in our schools - but homosexual relationships are already talked about in schools. This isn't new. And this isn't what the proposition is about, but it's a good scare tactic.
My church supports "equal marriage". My church has recently become an open welcoming and affirming church, and I do believe that the folks there have good hearts and want to do the right thing. I'm not sure everyone is ready for all that comes along with that, though. There is understandable fear.
My pastor put out a "No On Proposition 8" sign at the church which was met with mixed reception. Some felt that "social justice" was one thing, but telling members how to vote, and therefore, indirectly suggesting that those who might not vote the same way, were unwelcome was quite another thing. Elections and the church should be separate - separation of church and state.
The sign was ripped up by one of our parishioners after repeated requests by others to the Pastor to remove it. Unfortunately, the timing was poor, as the sign was ripped up "anonymously" during the same week that our Pastor has been receiving hate phone calls.
I help care for my mother-in-law who lives just up the block from us. She is eighty-six and determined to live in her own home as long as she can. We are determined to help her in this effort. And so, one of us spends the night at her house every night to make sure if she needs something in the night, someone is there.
One morning, when I was leaving my mother-in-law's, I looked across the street and saw a "Yes on Proposition 8" sign. It raised the same visceral reaction in me. My partner suggested she would take it down - although as a former police officer, we both knew she wouldn't really. But certainly the thought crossed both our minds.
I have considered writing a letter to this young family to somehow eloquently explain to them that my commitment to my wife of over nine years is no threat to their marriage. That we ARE their neighbors, their fellow alum (my partner went to the same high school as the woman), that we are good citizens, that we are good people.
How sad is it that I feel like I have to TELL my neighbor that I'm a "good person"?
I felt some measure of relief that I wasn't alone in this strong reaction when I saw a story on the front page of the Local section of the Orange County Register entitled "Prop. 8 signs slashed, stolen" (the text of which is similar to this link found on the web). While my wife and I contained our desire to respond to the neighbor's sign, I smiled a little knowing we weren't alone in feeling that way. I really smiled reading that Bob Warnick from the Yes on Prop 8 campaign reported, "We have communities all over the state, including Orange County, where there will be 200 signs put up and the next day there are less than 10 percent of these left."
After reading that 80% of the "Yes on Prop 8" signs disappeared the next day, I realized I didn't know whether or not our neighbor across from my mother-in-law still had their sign. When I finally remembered to check, it was gone. My wife swears it wasn't her. But, still, I had another internal cheer knowing we weren't the only ones not happy about the sign in their yard.
I had not been present in church when the No on Prop 8 sign was up. I admit, if I had been there, I would have felt a measure of pride and comfort seeing the sign. I listened to a friend of mine, though, explain how it made her feel like the church was telling her how to vote, and even if she did agree with that vote, she didn't feel it was the church's place to tell her how to vote. I sensed in our discussions that she was sensitive to the fact that many of our congregation may not be as progressive as the church has publicly moved, and that this might insult and alienate some of our older members whose hearts might be in the right place, but might not be decided, or may choose to exercise their right to vote "Yes."
I took that at face value when she said it, and not having been very active in church until this past year, didn't know what the proper venue or place the church should hold in politics. I didn't see the harm in the sign, myself, but was willing to accept at face value the explanation given for the concern. While I am open, and do not hide that I am gay, I do not deliberately shove it in people's faces, either. So, while I appreciate when others support me, I do not feel that I need to force them to show their support. I was willing to accept this reasonable desire to separate church from politics.
And then I was reading the Orange County Register's article. The Rev. Paul Telstrom, who has spoken at our church and is a magnanimous speaker, spoke about how there was a "'No on 8' sign in front of his church, the Irvine United Congregational Church on Alton Parkway". And I thought, "Hmm... his congregation doesn't object to the sign being put up, maybe we shouldn't be objecting?" And inside, I cheered when I read, "He said he's had three of his signs stolen and two others slashed. 'Anyone who takes our sign can be sure there will be a new one out there the next day,' he said." Next Sunday, I may wander down to Irvine UCC for services.
Last night I was speaking with my same friend, and she relayed to me the news regarding the Pastor receiving hate phone calls. I had a hint of this from an earlier message from another congregant, so while I was unhappy to hear, I was not surprised to have this confirmed. I can't recall now exactly how the conversation proceeded. I think I have blocked it out. I know that I mentioned how Irvine UCC DID have signs up. But at some point quite quickly after she mentioned the phone calls, I had an emotional red flag that went up high and loud, and I tried to stop my friend from going on. I told her that this was going to have to be one of those areas that we would have to agree to disagree, and while many of those areas, I'm still happy to discuss and even play devil's advocate, this was one where we should not say anything more. I knew that we should end that topic right then before it was too late. It wasn't even a conscious response - it was just this visceral immediate reaction. She hadn't said anything homophobic to me, yet. And perhaps somewhere I was just prescient enough to see it coming, and I valued our friendship and didn't want to risk it coming out (if you'll pardon the pun).
Unfortunately, there are few things that I won't discuss with her, or probe with her even if I don't have a strong opinion on them. Normally, that isn't unfortunate. But because we have developed a friendship where we can discuss things that might otherwise be left undiscussed, she didn't hear me. I don't blame her. It was an unusual thing for me to say in our conversations.
And then she finally made clear what it was that she is feeling. Fear. To be clear, I do respect that fear is a natural response. Certainly I feel fear at many different points as I go about my life. She is afraid that the church will be burned. She is afraid that the children will be harmed. She is afraid that by standing out on a limb, we (the church and its members) will become targets. I can't blame her. I can't say that if I were in her position, I might not feel the same way in a similar situation. I hope that I wouldn't. I hope I would be stronger, and braver, but I can't say with certainty that I would necessarily LITERALLY put my neck out on the limb for someone else's cause.
There IS a difference, I know, between not being [fill in the blank -phobic] and also being willing to risk being hurt for someone else's rights. There's the "I'm not making it worse" stance, and then there's the "I'm going to work to improve it" stance.
I don't generally require people to be vocal in support of me if it isn't something they don't feel comfortable with doing on their own. I respect, generally, folks' comfort zones.
I've been trying to analyze and pick apart what upset me most from the few comments she managed to get out until I finally convinced her that we shouldn't speak about the topic and managed to change the subject.
Well, I think one of the problems is that while we often, as humans, try to rationalize fear, it is usually this irrational beast. So, when one starts to throw out "reasons" for fear, and those reasons seem far-fetched, it is hard not to react to the reasons - or lack of reason. I'm a rational creature - it's why I went to law school.
Church burning. Well, yes, it could happen. And I may very well underestimate how far some folks might go. But I haven't heard about a lot of church burnings, lately. And a lot of the really homophobic stuff that happens, we do hear about. Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr. But, and this goes with the next reason below, fear for our children, these incidents while horrific, still do NOT happen every day. Thank God.
I cannot imagine what it is like to send a child to high school after an incident like Columbine, and the other tragic school shootings. I have friends who are VA Tech alum who were shell shocked hearing what happened. And I can imagine it would be difficult to return to campus after that happened. And as a parent, I would certainly do everything I could to ensure that the campus I send my children to is safe. I strongly believe in that kind of reaction. But to stop sending our children to school because of a random act of violence elsewhere seems like an extreme reaction.
And her response felt to me to be that extreme.
Perhaps I am naive. I have been fortunate that even though I have been "out" since high school, and was visibly "out" on campus in college, and have never hid my sexuality, that no-one has ever perpetrated violence on me.
WAIT - did I really just write that? That I'm fortunate that no one has gay-bashed me? That doesn't sound right. Why should I be "fortunate"? Why should it be "special"? Why shouldn't it simply be accepted that no-one would be violent towards me for being myself? Not "good" or "bad" but just what one should expect?
My mother - God bless her - over fifteen years ago asked me my opinion about a custom made bumper sticker she was thinking of having made. She drove a Volvo station wagon in the Virginia suburbs of Washington D.C. At the time, before Lawrence v. Texas, it was illegal to engage in "homosexual activity" in Virginia. Essentially, it was illegal to be gay in Virginia. (Let's not forget that the key Supreme Court case that finally said it was unconstitutional to ban interracial marriage was against the Commonwealth of Virginia. It is not the first state to rush to protect the rights of all of its citizens). She wanted to get a bumper sticker that said, "Proud Parent of a Dyke" but she was unsure if it was okay to use the word "dyke" and didn't want to be offensive. I assured her that as long as it was in the same sentence with "proud" that she'd be pretty safe in not offending those of us who might otherwise have a reason to be offended.
And sure enough, my mother got the bumper sticker and put it on her car and drove it for years. She had many honks and thumbs up and positive reactions. To the best of my knowledge, she was never rear-ended, the bumper sticker was never vandalized, she wasn't fired from her job and I am not aware of any negative response she had to it.
Generally, I have felt that visibility is the best way to make progress. The more people see that the things they are afraid of don't actually happen because of x, y, or z, the more we as a society make progress towards understanding that we are all human, and letting go of our irrational fears. I have never been in the closet because I wouldn't know how to be. It isn't the first thing I tell people, either. But eventually, I talk about my wife and use "she" and people figure it out. Or now, I talk about this aspect of my practice, and people figure it out. I do not have it tattooed on my forehead. Perhaps the folks across the street do not realize that the nice women they have met whose mother lives across the street from them are a couple. That we have been together nearly ten years, have a stable, healthy, supportive relationship. That we are good neighbors - all of our immediate neighbors love us, and celebrate our relationship - even the staunch Catholic who without knowing us might have felt differently. We are good people.
I find it ironic that the biggest anti-gay stereotype is this idea of promiscious bed-hopping folks who can't maintain a relationship. And yet, here we ask for this legal recognition of our relationships and our commitment to each other for life. The exact opposite of the stereotype. Maybe that's what folks are scared of... that once they realize that we really are just like them, that they won't have any other bogeymen they can pull out to stereotype us?
I can't promise that all gay marriages will last. We are human. But it isn't like heterosexuals in the last fifty years hold some admirable record for sustaining long-lasting relationships. I don't need to quote the divorce statistics. We're human - just like everyone else. We're going to make the same mistakes. But we deserve the same opportunities. That is what this is about.
I wrote over five years ago that the solution to this issue was to create a civil union and for anyone to receive the legal benefits and protections now afforded to those who are "married," they would have to enter a civil union. Those married to date would be "grandfathered" into the civil union, but leave marriage - and all of the "traditional" emotional baggage folks feel about it - to the church. What most people get upset about is some religious "traditional" ritual and believe that marriage is sacred between a man and a woman. Well, I do believe that my marriage is sacred, and that it is blessed by God. But I also respect that others may not have the same religious beliefs I do. But that shouldn't change whether or not the person I choose to share my life with should get my social security check if I die or become disabled. God and religious beliefs as to what is and isn't sacred has nothing to do with the courthouse or the county recorder's office. Keep marriage religious, and keep civil unions civil. I think we would have avoided a lot of the turmoil that we are in.
But Chief Justice Ronald George made clear that we had not done that. What we had done here in California was create a separate but equal framework with registered domestic partnership. If ALL folks were required to be registered domestic partners to receive the benefits and protections (and the responsibilities) then the decision the California Supreme Court rendered this past spring would have been different. Apples and oranges, I guess.
But I more than digress. I do not want to live my life in fear. And every time I decide not to do something out of fear that someone might hurt me, I give them and their fear power. I choose not to do that. There have been a few key moments in my life when I have had encountered situations where others have counseled me to take the "safe" route, and not speak out against someone else's actions that were wrong. And while I don't remember the times I chose the "safe" route (or if there were any), I do remember the times I took courage to take action, and that everyone's worst fears did NOT transpire. And that by speaking up, I was able to make a difference, and more importantly, I helped create an atmosphere where others could feel safe to speak out against something that was wrong. I did not give fear power.
So, while I am understanding of fear, and I try to respect other's comfort boundaries, I admit that I was disappointed to learn of my friend's fear, and her unwillingness, then, to risk being publicly in support of something that might not be popular. Me. I keep being reminded of the poem (in its many variations) inscribed at the U. S. Holocaust Museum (source: Wikipedia):
- First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out -
- because I was not a Socialist.
- Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out -
- because I was not a Trade Unionist.
- Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out -
- because I was not a Jew.
- Then they came for me - and there was no one left to speak for me.
When I pointed out to her that the neighbor had put a "Yes on Prop 8" sign on her lawn, my wife - who is quite content with our relationship being "invisible" to the world at large as it is none of their business - immediately responded that she'd get "No on Prop 8" signs and put them on her mother's lawn, and four on our lawn, and that each of OUR immediate neighbors would surely put them on their lawns and support us. Even our conservative Catholic neighbor.
I ordered them today.
This morning I noticed the sign is back in my neighbors' lawn. I am going take a copy of this posting and place it in their mailbox. I encourage others who feel similarly, and who come across similar neighbors, to do the same. Maybe your neighbors are reacting in fear - maybe they didn't know you are there, and that you, too, are good people. Maybe they won't hear it when we tell them. But we at least owe it to them to tell them, and then let them decide whether constitutionalizing discrimination is really what they want to support. Because I imagine they really are good people, too.
And, oh yes, I think I will be going to Irvine UCC's services this Sunday! Hope to see you there!
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