Five years ago this spring, my sweetie
and I stood in the church I was raised
in and vowed to honor and love each
other for the rest of our lives. Throughout
the ceremony and celebration we were
surrounded by people we treasure,
and while I was grateful for the love
that they shared with us that day,
it felt a bit odd to have such an
intimate and personal relationship
as ours made the center of such a
public event. Since that time, however,
I've developed a greater appreciation
for the role that family and friends
play in marriage, and for the suitability
of its public celebration. Just as
it takes a village to raise a child,
I've learned that it takes a community
to nurture a marriage.
Although we didn't know them then,
two people who have become a critical
part of our community were also married
on Memorial Day 1999. With laughter
and tears, pledges and poetry, and
surrounded by family and friends,
they took their first steps as spouse
to each other, just as we were taking
ours. We met them, fittingly enough,
at a wedding a year and a half later,
and became dear friends very quickly.
We even began a tradition of celebrating
our wedding anniversary together.
Then last year, just two and a half
weeks after a gorgeous boy joined
the world and made them parents, we
had a beautiful son, too. Before Milo
(theirs) and Noah (ours) came along,
it was marvelous to have friends whose
paths and values so closely mirrored
ours. But especially since our sons
arrived, we have been a constant presence
in each others' lives-talking about
each new development and challenge,
commiserating over lost sleep and
smelly diapers, conferring on how
to combine parenthood with careers,
celebrating each new tooth, crowing
about every new ability ("Milo
walks!" "Noah says 'Moo!'").
They are wonderful parents who still
manage to relate to each other as
a loving couple (something I've discovered
is easier said than done when there's
a new baby in the house). And as I've
tried to navigate my way through the
pleasures and perils of being a mother
while maintaining my identity as wife
and feminist activist, they have been
an inspiration to me, as well as a
regular source of advice and support.
As individuals, and as the family
they have made of themselves, they
inspire me, and I treasure them.
According to President Bush, however,
the beautiful, loving, family created
by my friends constitutes a dire threat
to the relationship my husband and
I have-and an assault on the "sanctity"
of marriage. Our friends are both
men, and because of this, they do
not have access to a marriage license
as we do, nor to any of the benefits
the government endorses and celebrates
for families with a daddy and a mommy.
Rather, they are treated to legalized
hostility, endorsed from the highest
levels, by a man whose use of the
term compassionate undermines the
very meaning of the word.
In his State of the Union address,
President Bush praised Congress for
having passed the "Defense of
Marriage Act," which defined
marriage at the federal level as existing
for heterosexuals only. He even went
so far as to announce that he would
support a constitutional amendment
along the same lines as the "Defense
of Marriage" law, if any more
courts order states to allow gay men
and lesbians to marry. Although the
Act Bush praised does nothing more
than legalize discrimination against
gay couples, its name suggests that
straight couples and the "institution"
of marriage are harmed when gay or
lesbian couples come together in loving,
committed, partnerships. While this
notion is completely lacking in empirical
support, it is also, frankly, absurd.
Really, show me one straight couple
whose relationship would be destroyed
as a direct result of a gay couple
getting legal recognition. Will there
be a shortage of licenses? Surely
we can just get more paper. And regarding
the "institution" of marriage
that must be protected from gay couples-if
you can really destroy something so
ephemeral, then why can't we destroy
hatred, or racism, or stupidity?
The bottom line is that bigotry is
the only reason to prevent gay couples
from getting married. Like all-white
country clubs that treasured their
ability to discriminate against black
people (surely believing that they
would be ruined if forced to desegregate),
many people now seem to believe that
the worth of marriage is a function
of its' inaccessibility to gay men
and lesbians. While laws that ban
gay marriage, or that prohibit adoption
or custody by gay and lesbian parents,
serve only to reinforce inequality
in our country by assigning gay families
second-class status, they are frequently-as
evidenced by the President's recent
snow-job-packaged and sold as policy
that is pro-family-a masquerade that
adds real stink to their sting.
When my husband and I got married,
we decided to forgo getting a marriage
license. We were uncomfortable accepting
legal benefits that are denied to
gay men and lesbians. On the fun side,
we reasoned, when gay marriage becomes
legal in our state, we will have an
excellent excuse to celebrate our
commitment again (not to mention an
opportunity to get me covered on his
health insurance policy.) In making
this choice, we have joined a growing
community of straight couples who
are rejecting the opportunity to be
legitimized by an institution whose
unequal distribution, we believe,
calls into question its very legitimacy.
With them, and with Milo's daddies,
we will oppose politicians who would
sell bigotry as pro-family policy.
And we will take comfort in the fact
that time is on our side, because
truth and love do prevail, and as
most of us already know, it is love
and commitment-and not a piece of
paper-that makes a family.
