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lokifanIt’s Tuesday. Meaning today, in America, a vitally important democratic procedure will take place.
No, not the presidential election go Obama! but the Californian vote on Proposition 8.
I’m waiting with baited breath to find out. If it goes through, it will be... heartbreaking, is the only word. It would be worse than a law to legalise gay marriage not being voted through. All those people having their marriages ripped away, the legal bond between them suddenly vanishing and leaving them staring across that chasm at each other once more... I’m actually welling up a bit right now, thinking about it.
The most recent wedding I attended was that of my godfather, Alex, and his husband David. They’ve been together for more than twenty years – I’m not sure how long, even, but longer than my parents – and married for six months. A very stable relationship, and proof that gay marriage strengthens the institution, instead of weakening it.
When I was a toddler, Alex and David came to visit my parents. After lunch we all went for a walk. My parents held hands, being the repulsively in-love types they are (sorry. Teenage reaction to parental lovin’ cannot be overcome just yet). And I looked up at Alex and David and asked why they weren’t holding hands, too.
According to my mum, both men were heartily embarrassed. But I still think the point’s made – I was two years old, and I saw no difference. It just made sense to me: my parents were holding hands, so Alex and David should do it too. Anybody who talks about “unnatural” can go have a word with my two-year-old self, because she is too young to have learnt discrimination and she won’t have a clue what you mean.
I know some gay people aren’t especially enthused by the right to marry. I can understand that, to a certain extent: after all, Alex and David live in bloody Islington. A more perfect example of middle-class, middle-aged, professional, stable gay love you could not find.
But it does matter. I can’t tell you how bloody infuriating I find it, that I could marry a man and not a woman in some places. I’m bisexual, I’m telling you right now that whatever imagined difference there is between gay and straight love you see, it is not there. I will still be bisexual if I marry a man; the right to marry a woman if I so chose will never stop mattering, not even if I marry a nice Tory Catholic and pop out six babies.
I’ve joined Pride at my uni. It’s mattered more than I thought it would. To be able to go somewhere and have my attraction to the same sex simply assumed, to be able to talk and know we’re all in the same boat? Far more affecting than I ever imagined it would be – I expected a dating pool, a place to make friends. It’s more than that.
And in a way, I hate that fact. It’s been great to bond with all these people. But part of the reason we all seem to make friends so quickly is that we all share experiences. And not same-sex lovin’ type experiences: that talk, for me, is no different from the usual sex-chatter I share with all my mates. I bond with these hot girls, and it’s because we can discuss certain topics. What it was like coming out, insults at school, whether we’ve kissed in public, whether we’ve come out, talking to our parents, wanting to be brave enough to talk to our parents, the same damn thing all the time: fear.
I’m scared myself, and I come from a liberal city with parents who made a gay man the sole godfather of their first child and have only once been physically intimidated because of my sexuality. And that’s maddening, too, that it’s so complicated and my parents go quiet if I mention a crush on a girl and I was screamed at in my common room and no teacher did anything and my sisters are homophobic and I have to watch my flatmates do The Flinch when I mention that I’m bisexual and I’m still lucky, so incredibly lucky.
And see, all of that, it is affected by the right to gay marriage. Because it means that the state is on my side. Sometimes that doesn’t seem to matter, when teachers and police and registrars and all the rest don’t protect people like me. It still does, though. If the state believes that gay love is as deserving of recognition and legal rights as straight love, then it means I’m the mainstream. When someone’s screaming at you, or you read yet another article about gaybashing or – any of it, really, that matters more than I can say. Because it means I don’t have to feel like the oppressed minority; a gay relationship can be recognised by Parliament, and those homophobes are the ones who are looked at with disapproval by those in power.
It might be a rose-tinted view, but it feels more true because gay marriage is legal. (Oh, and whatever the records say, people do think of it as marriage. Civil union? Fuck that noise!) It feels like we’re winning. It took twenty years to go from Section 28 to gay marriage in this country. That is amazing. British gay people are lucky, and personally I want to share the luck around.
If one of the most liberal states in the US does this offensive, discriminatory, sadistic thing – destroying the marriage of newlyweds – it will be a crushing blow. It won’t mean forever, though. Still. I didn’t grow up knowing I could marry a woman if I wanted; my GCSE oral English piece was an speech on “Why Gay Marriage Should Be Legalised”. (Right after “Why The Bible Is True”, and wasn’t that a moment of epic awkwardness.) Now I do. I gave the speech to an English teacher who was closeted, though I’m the only student who knows that fact. He’s in his fifties and he makes jokes about chatting up barmaids. The same school now has an openly gay German teacher, who’s in his twenties and gets shit but also brings his boyfriend to events. A generational shift in the making, and I call bullshit on anyone who thinks that the legitimising of gay relationships via marriage had nothing to do with it. It’s both cause and effect.
Right. With any luck, I’ll look back at this post in a week and roll my eyes at my own sappiness, and plan to go and marry a hot Californian beach bunny, at a ceremony attended by Northern Twink and his husband the lifeguard.
*crosses fingers*
No, not the presidential election go Obama! but the Californian vote on Proposition 8.
I’m waiting with baited breath to find out. If it goes through, it will be... heartbreaking, is the only word. It would be worse than a law to legalise gay marriage not being voted through. All those people having their marriages ripped away, the legal bond between them suddenly vanishing and leaving them staring across that chasm at each other once more... I’m actually welling up a bit right now, thinking about it.
The most recent wedding I attended was that of my godfather, Alex, and his husband David. They’ve been together for more than twenty years – I’m not sure how long, even, but longer than my parents – and married for six months. A very stable relationship, and proof that gay marriage strengthens the institution, instead of weakening it.
When I was a toddler, Alex and David came to visit my parents. After lunch we all went for a walk. My parents held hands, being the repulsively in-love types they are (sorry. Teenage reaction to parental lovin’ cannot be overcome just yet). And I looked up at Alex and David and asked why they weren’t holding hands, too.
According to my mum, both men were heartily embarrassed. But I still think the point’s made – I was two years old, and I saw no difference. It just made sense to me: my parents were holding hands, so Alex and David should do it too. Anybody who talks about “unnatural” can go have a word with my two-year-old self, because she is too young to have learnt discrimination and she won’t have a clue what you mean.
I know some gay people aren’t especially enthused by the right to marry. I can understand that, to a certain extent: after all, Alex and David live in bloody Islington. A more perfect example of middle-class, middle-aged, professional, stable gay love you could not find.
But it does matter. I can’t tell you how bloody infuriating I find it, that I could marry a man and not a woman in some places. I’m bisexual, I’m telling you right now that whatever imagined difference there is between gay and straight love you see, it is not there. I will still be bisexual if I marry a man; the right to marry a woman if I so chose will never stop mattering, not even if I marry a nice Tory Catholic and pop out six babies.
I’ve joined Pride at my uni. It’s mattered more than I thought it would. To be able to go somewhere and have my attraction to the same sex simply assumed, to be able to talk and know we’re all in the same boat? Far more affecting than I ever imagined it would be – I expected a dating pool, a place to make friends. It’s more than that.
And in a way, I hate that fact. It’s been great to bond with all these people. But part of the reason we all seem to make friends so quickly is that we all share experiences. And not same-sex lovin’ type experiences: that talk, for me, is no different from the usual sex-chatter I share with all my mates. I bond with these hot girls, and it’s because we can discuss certain topics. What it was like coming out, insults at school, whether we’ve kissed in public, whether we’ve come out, talking to our parents, wanting to be brave enough to talk to our parents, the same damn thing all the time: fear.
I’m scared myself, and I come from a liberal city with parents who made a gay man the sole godfather of their first child and have only once been physically intimidated because of my sexuality. And that’s maddening, too, that it’s so complicated and my parents go quiet if I mention a crush on a girl and I was screamed at in my common room and no teacher did anything and my sisters are homophobic and I have to watch my flatmates do The Flinch when I mention that I’m bisexual and I’m still lucky, so incredibly lucky.
And see, all of that, it is affected by the right to gay marriage. Because it means that the state is on my side. Sometimes that doesn’t seem to matter, when teachers and police and registrars and all the rest don’t protect people like me. It still does, though. If the state believes that gay love is as deserving of recognition and legal rights as straight love, then it means I’m the mainstream. When someone’s screaming at you, or you read yet another article about gaybashing or – any of it, really, that matters more than I can say. Because it means I don’t have to feel like the oppressed minority; a gay relationship can be recognised by Parliament, and those homophobes are the ones who are looked at with disapproval by those in power.
It might be a rose-tinted view, but it feels more true because gay marriage is legal. (Oh, and whatever the records say, people do think of it as marriage. Civil union? Fuck that noise!) It feels like we’re winning. It took twenty years to go from Section 28 to gay marriage in this country. That is amazing. British gay people are lucky, and personally I want to share the luck around.
If one of the most liberal states in the US does this offensive, discriminatory, sadistic thing – destroying the marriage of newlyweds – it will be a crushing blow. It won’t mean forever, though. Still. I didn’t grow up knowing I could marry a woman if I wanted; my GCSE oral English piece was an speech on “Why Gay Marriage Should Be Legalised”. (Right after “Why The Bible Is True”, and wasn’t that a moment of epic awkwardness.) Now I do. I gave the speech to an English teacher who was closeted, though I’m the only student who knows that fact. He’s in his fifties and he makes jokes about chatting up barmaids. The same school now has an openly gay German teacher, who’s in his twenties and gets shit but also brings his boyfriend to events. A generational shift in the making, and I call bullshit on anyone who thinks that the legitimising of gay relationships via marriage had nothing to do with it. It’s both cause and effect.
Right. With any luck, I’ll look back at this post in a week and roll my eyes at my own sappiness, and plan to go and marry a hot Californian beach bunny, at a ceremony attended by Northern Twink and his husband the lifeguard.
*crosses fingers*
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-04 07:03 am (UTC)I have a friend who was born in England but left when she was 9, and is very pissed that she can't vote. She keeps complaining about "taxation without representation" and I don't really blame her.
But anyway, I will be voting for Obama tomorrow, so my vote can be your vote. =)
no subject
Date: 2008-11-04 07:07 am (UTC)You live in Michigan! Hi! I also live in the great mitten state, and love meeting fellow MI fen. Can I ask where you live/go to school? I'm a student at U of M, and I'm positive there have to be a few more slashers in the student body!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-04 07:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-05 04:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-05 04:42 am (UTC)Wow. Yeah, I don't blame your friend either!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-04 07:22 am (UTC)Every single thing in this post is dead-on. I honestly can't understand what these people are thinking when they get red in the face, insisting that gay people are disgusting, child molesters, that allowing them to get married is only a step away from letting a man marry his dog. It disgusts me, knowing people like this make up a near-majority of the country.
You were lucky to grow up with such a wonderful example of gay love and partnership in your life. Most people here don't have that and as a result they don't know it is a viable lifestyle choice. (Not being gay, but being openly, happily gay.) I live in the most liberal city in the state - one of the most liberal in the country - and I still rarely see gay couples walking the streets together.
I'm glad you found a safe, welcoming place at Pride - but I wish you didn't have to. I wish you didn't have to be scared. I wish part of you, and of the people in California and Canada and Connecticut, didn't have to live with the fear that all these so-called 'rights' they're enjoying might one day be taken away. I wish they didn't have to worry about whether they should go to Florida for vacation because they know the doctors there are under no obligation to respect their partners' wishes, should the unthinkable happen. I wish more people could see the world as you did when you were two: completely loving and unbiased.
I'm crossing my fingers (and toes!) with you for tomorrow, love, and hoping that one day you can make that beach bunny dream come true.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-30 06:46 am (UTC)It is sad to find this comment! And yet awesome, cos it's so heartfelt and well-written and possibly my favourite comment of yours ever.
No, wait, that would be you squeeing at the porn.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-04 05:59 pm (UTC)my GCSE oral English piece was an speech on “Why Gay Marriage Should Be Legalised”. (Right after “Why The Bible Is True”, and wasn’t that a moment of epic awkwardness.
Sam and I just took the girls to vote. I held the baby and played with Greta while Nelly helped him vote for Obama and against "proper 8" (as the girls call it). Then he held the baby while Greta and I voted (and Greta said, "We're voting for love, right Mommy?" and I almost lost it right there).
Anna
no subject
Date: 2008-11-05 04:47 am (UTC)That is a totally lovely story. "We're voting for love, right Mommy?" Dear God - there is not enough awwwww in the world!