file under: my family is awesome

Today is the historic vote in Minnesota where the Minnesota House of Representatives will vote on the freedom to marry legislation (HF1054). It is an exciting day for sure.

Whether this legislation passes or not (it will, it will, it will) I got this little sweet note that my mother in law wrote to her representative. She is faithful and funny, loving and honest. This is my family. I am lucky.

Subject: Support SF925/HF1054: The freedom to marry bills
 
Thank you for taking time to serve in the Minnesota legislature. As one of your constituents, I urge you to support SF925/HF1054 when it comes to the floor for a vote. All Minnesotans deserve the freedom to marry the person they love.

My Catholic Archbishop urged me to write to you regarding your vote, and I am happy to ask you to vote for the freedom to marry the person one loves.  My extended family will celebrate with our daughter, Karen, and her partner, Rachel, when they are able to be legally married in MN.

Do you live in Minnesota? Have you written your representative yet? There is still time. Please do.

dreamy

I don’t dream. 

Ok, that is not exactly true. I do, but I haven’t always. Well, I haven’t always remembered them or been aware that I had them; apparently everyone dreams, whatever. When I was a little girl and my parents were divorcing I had a reoccurring nightmare—that I was a sugar cookie and a big oatmeal raisin cookie was going to envelop and overtake me—definitely a story much better told in person because uuuuummmmm … anyway, nightmares seem a totally different category than dreams.

Almost 4 years ago I gave my sweetie the ultimate gift: I quit smoking. I took Chantix (the miracle drug) and praise be, have stayed smoke free. BUT, and its a big BUT, I somehow acquired and kept the side effect of the drug “strange or unusual dreaming.” If you haven’t been a dreamer and suddenly you are, it is a strange—often twisted—middle world to learn to navigate. I am still thrown into slumber loops, trying to discern meaning and their relationship to reality.

Enter this morning. Its been a tough week at my home, and a good night of sleep has been difficult to come by. But this morning I feel like I was given a morsel of what lies ahead. I also think my little baby girl Tigger-bean and my dad who has been lurking near from the other side of the veil may have given it to me. Well, that is what I am choosing to believe.

I woke up and rolled over to see that Sweetie was reading on Facebook as she lay there crying. I asked her what was the matter, and she told me to open Facebook and see for myself. So, I did. I scrolled and scrolled and all I saw were my friends, one after another, at parties and toasting with titles on their photos like “We did it!” and “finally going to the chapel!” I looked at her again and she whispered to me that DOMA had been overturned while we were sleeping. I wondered why our friends hadn’t called us, woken us to join their celebrating, but that fleeting feeling was erased as I reached over and grabbed her hand beneath our brown blanket and smiled, nestled in and fell right back to sleep.

Sitting in front of the computer this morning I scrolled and scrolled looking for the pictures. I finally asked sweetie if it had really happened because it was so real to me, and I couldn’t believe that DOMA being overturned would be outshined by the death of Margaret Thatcher. I retold her what she did this morning, she smiled and told me to write about it.

A girl can dream right?

on making history

The first noise sweetie and I heard this morning was the “bing bing” of a friend texting me from North Carolina. It simply said “YES!!!!!!!” Normally I silent my phone before laying down to sleep but I half hoped that someone would let me know when the race for the marriage amendment had been called.  I didn’t expect the notice to come from across the country—but I did and it reminded me how important this work is, to all of us. One year ago they, like us, fought to keep discrimination out of their state constitution, and lost. But Minnesota, oh Minnesota—thank you for giving them and 29 other states HOPE.

I rolled over, grabbed my phone and opened up facebook; these are the first words I read:
“Area gay people awake to find that they still can’t marry each other. Minnesota, it’s not time to change the constitution, thank you, but it is time to change the law.” [bold mine] Yep. So right on.

Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can’t lose.

This thing, this bending the arc of justice work we are doing, it’s hard stuff. However, last night we made huge yardage all across our country towards getting down the field of dreams. Last night was definitely a good ol’ Coach Taylor first down for East Dillon. [yes, I just made a sports/football metaphor] But this game ain’t over yet.

You see, I have a dream that in my lifetime Sweetie and I will be able to be married civilly and sacramentally.

To my friends and family who voted: thank you. To my friends and family who voted “NO” on this [piece of shit proposed] marriage amendment: thank you. For those of you who are are straight and volunteered for the campaign, thank you. For those of you who had conversations about why this mattered to you personally: thank you. If my relationship with Sweetie was a part of that conversation: we are honored. Thank you thank you thank you.

BUT: we cannot rest. We have a law on the books in Minnesota that needs to go away. We have a president who is committed to getting rid of DOMA and we’ve got to help him make that happen. We’ve got people who love each other across borders and oceans who would like to say “I do” to love and building a life together. Yes, let’s celebrate and rest today. We’ve worked hard and done our state and our country proud. But we’ve still got a ways to go. I won’t quit. Don’t you quit either.

Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose. Go love.

 

a friends story: will you sing…?

The following is a story from my friend and colleague Omar. His partner is Peter, the co-founder and artistic director forTheater Latte Da here in the twin cities. It was Peter who wrote the following letter to his family just this past week. Omar shared it with the Pizzeria Lola staff, and I am sharing it with you.

The election is just a few days away and I KNOW there may be some of you who wish I would get off my soapbox and talk about something other than the proposed amendment and how a vote for Mitt Romney is a vote against my very personhood. I cannot. This election is so important and my hope is that in this story you can hear one more set of voices, perhaps one you haven’t considered before, tell you why this means so much to me. Here is the letter.

Will You Sing at My Wedding?
October 30, 2012

Dear Family,

Over the past 30 years I have sung at countless family funerals, birthday celebrations and weddings. I have always considered it an honor to play a role, however small, in those significant events that bring us together as family and mark our time on this planet.

So, today I am asking you to sing at my wedding. A week from today Minnesota will decide whether or not to put into our state constitution an amendment that will prevent me from standing up in front of my family, friends and God to declare my commitment to Omar, a commitment we have already made to each other but without the legal rights that you have. There are currently 515 laws on the books in Minnesota alone that discriminate against me as a gay man. Sadly this election will not remove any of those laws or make it possible for Omar and I to legally marry. If the marriage amendment is defeated, our relationship still won’t be recognized by the state. But if it passes, this overt discrimination will be enshrined in our state’s most important document. I have not shared very widely Omar and my struggles, but feel it is important to do so today.

Omar and I met when he was studying here in the Twin Cities. Omar left a career in import/export business in Mexico City to pursue his lifelong dream of becoming a chef. Omar grew up in a family-owned restaurant in Puebla, Mexico and spent the majority of his evenings and weekends at his Grandma’s side as she cooked Lebanese food for their community. The dynamics of good food and community gathering became important values. Omar had come to camp on the Iron Range as a teenager and fell in love with Minnesota, so he decided to study at Le Cordon Bleu in St. Paul. We met at the YMCA where Omar facilitated challenge courses and ran activities for youth with special needs. After graduating, Omar had to return to Mexico because he did not have a visa to stay and work in this country legally. We spent five years apart, missing birthdays, holidays, opening nights and quiet days as we tried to navigate a broken immigration system. Unlike straight international couples, there was no way for us to be together. As you know, my niece Stephanie married a wonderful man from Guatemala in perhaps the most beautiful setting I have ever seen. I sang at their wedding and Omar translated each and every word of the ceremony. Our immigration system allows for Stephanie and Chino to spend their lives together, because they can be legally married. Omar and I are denied that right.

On the other hand, we are very fortunate; Omar is highly educated, bilingual and was in the right place at the right time. He received a green card this past spring, which allows him to live and work in the United States for the time being. After five years of astronomical legal fees, crazy phone bills and helpless frustration, we are finally able to be together. However his green card will expire in ten years, at which time we will have to once again try to navigate an expensive, highly stressful process that will determine whether or not we are able to share the home we have created.

We are just one of thousands of international gay and lesbian couples, most of them are not as lucky as Omar and I; they are having to live apart or stay in the United States illegally. I don’t believe this is just; and I hope you agree. Sadly, this is just one example of thousands where gay and lesbian couples are denied the rights of heterosexual couples.

We have been inundated with propaganda over this issue for the past several months. The argument seems to be that my relationship with Omar is somehow harmful to society. When I look at the gay and lesbian couples closest to me, they are anything but harmful. Dr. Steve is an oncologist at Children’s Hospital. In fact, he was one of Jim and Colleen’s son Sean’s primary physicians. His partner Peter is the musician for Ten Thousand Things, a theater company that brings theater to homeless shelters, prisons and immigration centers. Peter and Steve adopted three biological siblings a decade ago and have provided those kids with a stable, loving home. My friend Gerry is a social worker whose clients are chemically dependent and HIV positive. His partner Kevin went to Harvard Law School and has spent his entire career working for housing the poor and protecting the environment. The list goes on and on; I simply cannot see the harm these couples are supposedly creating, I only see good.

The past months have been very painful for me. I don’t need to tell you about the importance of the Catholic Church in my life. It has been the cornerstone of our family. It is also one of the few places I felt safe as a child. Growing up gay in a small town is not easy, and St. Joseph’s Catholic Community was a place I was accepted. I spent the majority of my extracurricular time at the church, whether in youth choir, babysitting in the nursery, teaching confirmation, making retreat, or leading youth group activities. I have spent much of my adult life active in the Church, as a cantor, liturgical consultant and frequent speaker at St. Joan of Arc in Minneapolis. The Catholic Church has made it very clear over the past year that Omar and I are not welcome, that we are not of value. I don’t have the words to describe that kind of rejection. This is not the Church I grew up in; it is not the Church my parents helped to build.

I remember sitting with my father the evening of his death. It was just he and I in the room. I had yet to come out of the closet and what struck me in that moment was a feeling of great remorse. I denied my father the right to accept me when all I had ever known from him was unconditional love. When I came out to my mother in a letter five years later the first she said to me was, “I have only read the first paragraph of your letter and I am calling to tell you I love you, and that I feel a connection with your father in this moment in a way I haven’t since the day he died.” Not only did she display her unconditional love, but her reaction was beyond what I ever could have imagined or wished for. My mother is the most devout Catholic I know and she has never shown anything but acceptance, respect and love for me and now for Omar. In fact, I spent this evening with her and twice she said, “I need a nice picture of just you and Omar. I can’t believe I don’t have a picture of just you and Omar.” She embodies the Church I grew up in, the Church I know.

The Catholic Church may never choose to marry Omar and me. It makes me sad, but that is indeed the Church’s prerogative. However, that is not what November 6^th is about. A week from today we will decide as a state whether or not to put discrimination in our constitution, a document created to protect individual liberties and freedom. This issue is real; its impact is profound; it determines whether or not I can spend the rest of my life with the person I love.

The polls tell us this race is currently neck in neck; your vote matters. And it matters to me. So, would you be willing to sing at my wedding? It’s on November 6. Carol and Margie would be happy to accompany you. Let me know.

love, Peter

P.S. I have not intentionally omitted anyone from this email, I simply do not have everyone’s current email address. Feel free to pass this note along. Thank you.

 

 

on the privilege of being out

Browsing through email this morning, youtube sent me a weekly subscription update. YouTube’s algorithms—sometimes scary, sometimes helpful—suggested I might like to see this video. Oh and how.

The story within is Dustin Lance Black’s coming out story. But it’s not just his story–it’s all of our stories.

I sometimes forget how truly lucky I am to be in a part of the world that offers me protection from losing my job, my house or my life for being who I am. I sometimes forget that my mother and father both raised me to believe that I am whole and beautifully made. They taught me that it is my character that defines me, not labels that others would have me hang around my neck.

I am out. I am blessed. I am bisexual. I am loved. I am married (not legally, YET).
Praise be. Vote NO.

if you don’t know me by now

It was the end of boot camp: Ft. Dix New Jersey, 1990. Drill Sergeant Armstead stepped on to the bus that would take all of us off base for the last time, sending us on to our next step in being a new soldier. I don’t know if he did this for every class; I can’t imagine that he did. As he was saying goodbye, and in his short, bulldog-ish gruff way, began to sing a familiar song: “IF    you-don’t-know     me      by     now …”  he barked as if in cadence. On the bus that day, with his drill hat tipped low across his face, I could swear I saw a tear roll down his face when he “sang” it to us that last time.

This past week I’ve had two facebook friends let me know that they will be voting YES on the proposed amendment that will read as follows on the ballot:

     Limiting the status of marriage to opposite sex couples.
     ”Recognition of Marriage Solely Between One Man and One Woman.”
o YES         o NO

I’ve aired my hurt feelings in the same place these people let me know their intentions, facebook. I’ve asked for wisdom and taken some time to really sit with the words offered. Here is what I want to say to them, to myself, and to you.

First, facebook for me IS real life. I spend a great deal of time checking in and seeing what my friends both far and near are up to. It has challenged and enhanced my friendships, it has kept me connected to some people who I have met only once, and some—like my beloved—I see nearly every day. The relationships I have on facebook are real and they hold value—the kind I can and have and will cash in on—in my life. My personal page is cluttered with quotes and pictures from things that interrupt my daily sight-lines. These bits and scraps are a real part of me and I share them with you all because I want you to know me, laugh with me, challenge and inspire me. If you are my facebook friend, you are so with my permission and because I hope for a mutual relationship with you.

Secondly, above any other tenant of belief that I hold,  beyond any other thing I know to be real and true, I know that LOVE is at the center of my faith. Love God, love neighbor, love self. You know what happens if you believe this? Love manifests itself in the most unusual places: in broken families and republicans, smelly hippies, pussy riots and Fox news, in old ladies who lunch, closeted queers, and people who you can only understand through flailing body language and broken spanglish. Love is sneaky like that. And you know what else it is? It’s fierce. It can break a heart and rip a crack in your preconceived ideas faster than you can scream: ”FUCK!”

Well, it can—that is—if you let it.

A dear friend and priest asked:  do you want to be prophetic (to them) or pastoral (to yourself)? Good question. And you know what, I want both. I have been both; it’s not like I just realized I had these friends. No, I’ve known about some since the last election cycle, some since the Chick-fil-A debacle, and still some I am learning about with each day that passes. I have been salt and light. I have invited you to my wedding, been a part of your life celebrations and you have been at mine. I don’t know what else I can do—my life and love is an open book; come, sit with me, read and listen. But one thing that can’t change—that won’t change, is our gender. We are two women. [cue] If you don’t know me by now, you will never never know me, ooooooooo.

This was what someone said to me:
“Rachel, I think it’s pretty simple to sum up. [His] beliefs are that the term “marriage” is meant between a man and a woman, period. I don’t think he has any “issues” w/the term civil union. You won’t ever change that and it doesn’t make him right or wrong, nor does it make anyone who wants the amendment passed “right” or “wrong”. It is his belief, which he is entitled to, just as you and others are entitled to your belief. Just because he doesn’t feel the same way as you do does not mean that he doesn’t love or care for you (and I’m pretty sure you know that – I am sorry, but shame on you).”

[cue] All the things that we’ve been through, you should understand me, like I understand you…

If you want to hang your hat on a set of beliefs that exclude and draw lines, that dictate your superiority to mine, that is fine by me. But please do not expect for one single minute that you have the right to call me friend on facebook, not even for one more minute. If you would like to take this up face to face—even over email, I would welcome that conversation. I have thought long and hard on this. I have asked for counsel and prayed. My friend Shirley said it best, and so I say: “…bless and release them, for they know not what they do.”

should I stay or should I go now?

This proposed amendment stuff—it is painful. It fucking hurts and I really don’t know how I can make it to November without crying—daily it seems—because of something someone says.

I offer up words of peace and personal story and kindness, and am returned with people laughing—LOL—calling me a “bold little girl” and “cute.” People ask, truly and sincerely, why do us “gays” have to call it marriage? Why not just call it “civil union” or something that doesn’t offend?  It’s historical, everyone has always done it this way, I mean, everyone in the world understands one man one woman.

They are afraid of the fallout after the election—though I’m not sure what that even means, because no matter what happens, this proposed amendment will soon and very soon stop being proposed and it will either be an amendment or not.

People compare me and my partners desire to live as a productive contributing citizens to being advocates for bestiality and pedophilia. Read that again please. Bestiality. And pedophilia. 

When you speak, I listen. And I feel. I will no longer fight back—because I believe that love, eventually and always, wins. But also, I will not be silenced. I want you to hear from me, that you hurt me, and although I have not so far, I can and will make choices about who surrounds me and my partner—who can and will continue to uphold our vows we made before God and family—yes my friends, I count you as family. I haven’t walked away from people who are voting yes; I really don’t want to. But do me a favor, if you are one of my friends who will be, please take a moment to reflect if you really value our relationship enough to stay in it.

I am your family, Mitakuye Oyasin, you are all my relations. But some of you remind me what it is like to be in a family with a sexually abusive family member, being asked to stay quiet, and take it, I am asking for it after all, just flaunting my sexuality all over. “How can I help it?” these vote YES people are asking.

Well, sometimes it is best to get some distance to allow the perpetrator to reflect on their behavior, and to allow the perpetrated to become whole. Perhaps that time is now.