Seems like a pro-family kind of person would welcome a chance to sanction new families. — Jerry Large, The Seattle Times
Actually, I doubt if anything coming from my heart can be very straight, since I'm bisexual. However, I promise you that this essay will be gut-level honest, no holds barred. I may be criticized for saying all the things I'm about to say, but that's too bad, because there's a horrible abuse of privilege going on in relation to marriage, and it makes me sick. The truth is, I think it is sick that my gay and lesbian friends are denied the legal right to marry. This is bigotry, pure and simple, and it needs to stop right now. Denying two women or two men the right to marry is as cruel and absurd as it was to deny two people of different races the right to marry. In this state (Washington), 1998 legislators even passed the highly redundant and incredibly homophobic "Defense of Marriage Act," which outlaws marriage between two people of the same sex (this was already illegal). Personally, I think they should have called this law the "Denial of Marriage Act," since it denies roughly ten percent of the population the right to enjoy the legal privileges accorded to the other ninety percent. Maybe I'm missing something, but doesn't the Constitution of the United States guarantee everyone's right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? Seems to me that this guarantee alone should be enough to legitimatize gay marriage, since it's mighty hard to feel very free (liberty) if you don't have the right to marry the person you love (the pursuit of happiness). Since I'm arguing for the expansion of marriage rights, it may surprise you to know that I'm no big fan of marriage. As a woman who has been married and divorced twice, and who has since enjoyed a long-term partnership with a man (since 1987), I tend to share Mae West's infamous take on marriage: "Marriage is a great institution, but I'm not ready for an institution yet." Aside from my personal bias, I must also confess that in my twenty years as a professional counselor, I've rarely seen marriage improve a relationship. To be fair, I've seen a number of healthy relationships stay strong and vibrant after marriage, so of course it is possible. On the flip side, however, I've seen couple after couple hit the skids or go on automatic at some point after they invite the institution of marriage into their lives. Of course, there's no telling what would have happened if these people hadn't gotten married, since there are no control groups in human life. However, most people underestimate the extraordinary power of marriage, with all its socioeconomic and religious underpinnings, not to mention its intergenerational family legacies. Marriage brings with it a whole gamut of personal and collective hopes, dreams, fears, and expectations. Anyone who doesn't think so has probably never been married, or may simply be oblivious (perhaps blissfully so) to the complex inner workings of this ancient institution. One of my spiritual teachers said that marriage is "like meat to the lions." That's a pretty intense statement, so I've thought a lot about it in the last twenty years since she said it. One thing I see is that the State sanctions marriage in order to control people's lives in some way for the benefit of society (i.e., the regulation of "legitimate" children, the ownership of property, or the dispersal of monies after death). Some would argue — and in current society, perhaps rightfully so — that marriage isn't only for the benefit of the State, but also for the benefit of its participants. For example, only legally married couples are allowed to pass along Social Security benefits to their partners, and in most cases, insurance coverage can be extended only between spouses. In this and many other respects, unmarried couples — whether gay or straight — are financially penalized by current marriage laws. I realize that if there was no government-sanctioned marriage, people might have to be more proactive in regard to financial rights and responsibilities. It may mean that domestic partners would have to draw up their own legal paperwork to assure protection of their needs and rights (as my partner and I, and many other unmarried couples, have done). Frankly, I think this setup would be a lot less messy than our current circus of laws surrounding marriage, community property, child custody, and estate dispersal. I think things could actually be much simpler if the government stayed out of the marriage bed. When I was a child, I assumed that I'd get married, because that's what everyone else did. Once I left that kind of automatic thinking behind, however, I came to believe that this country's separation of Church and State should also apply to marriage. To me, marriage is an affair of the heart, and I don't think the State has any business regulating affairs of the heart. Marriage can best be honored by religious, spiritual, and otherwise deeply personal commitment ceremonies, separate from the clutch and claw of government control. For better or worse, I acknowledge that I appear to be a minority voice in holding this position, so I'll return to my defense of gay marriage, now that you know that it's not so much marriage itself that I'm defending, but every adult's right to marry, regardless of sexual orientation. Although my overall network of friends includes a variety of sexual orientations, my inner circle is noticeably underpopulated by heterosexuals. I didn't plan it this way. In fact, I never really paid much attention to it until I started thinking about writing this article a year or two ago. Here's the breakdown: I'm bisexual and I'm partnered with a straight man. My best woman friend is also bisexual, and she's in a long-term relationship with a woman. My closest male friend is gay, and he's also in a long-term relationship. Of three other close women friends, one is lesbian and partnered for 19 years, and the other two are straight and currently unattached. That makes three heterosexuals out of a total of ten people. This means that if you consider my inner circle of friends and their partners, three straight people and two bisexuals have the right to marry — but only if we choose partners of the opposite sex. The two of us who are bisexual, along with the other five who are gay or lesbian, cannot legally marry someone of the same sex. This is not an equitable situation. I realize that the percentage of non-heterosexual people in my inner circle of friends doesn't fit the statistical norm. However, I think I can safely say that all of us consider ourselves "normal" and most definitely believe that each of us deserves the same rights as everyone else. Ironically, and perhaps understandably, it is my gay and lesbian friends who would like to be married. My partner and I want no part of it, and my other close women friends who are straight are happily single right now. This brings me to the crux of the matter: It's much different to choose not to be married if you have the choice. That's the nature of privilege: it allows you to say yes or no to something because the choice is a given. My gay and lesbian friends don't have this privilege, and frankly, I think this situation is deplorable. I don't know how anyone can be so arrogant as to deny other adults the right to make a family — in every sense of the word, including legally — with whomever they choose. I wish that for one year, every homophobe, every anti-gay legislator, and every one-way fundamentalist would be required to experience, firsthand, what many homosexuals experience, to some degree, every day of every year: intolerance, ridicule, hatred, and legal discrimination based on sexual orientation. Perhaps if the roles were reversed, homophobic people could get a taste of their own oppression and find out how it feels to get dirty looks because you're one of them, how it feels to be disowned by your parents because your lover doesn't fit their profile, how it feels to be denied child custody rights because of your sexual identity, or how it feels to be fired from your job — despite workplace protection laws — because coworkers are "uncomfortable" around you. The brutality of discrimination is pervasive. Sometimes the situation seems hopeless to me, since I know that bigots rarely turn into icons of acceptance overnight, and in fact, may never soften their stance at all. However, something inside me refuses to give up on even the most diehard homophobes, because I believe that somewhere in their hearts lies a nugget of gold, a cache of compassion trapped inside an icy envelope of fear. You just never know what stroke of luck, what kiss of kindness, what twist of fate might serve to melt that icy envelope. Some day — and I hope it's soon — homophobes and bigots won't be running the show, and their prejudices can then be entertained and accepted as merely one position among many, rather than the dominant paradigm. After all, even homophobia makes sense within the framework of the minds that give rise to it. Unfortunately, these minds may not be very well lit. The point is, well-lit minds are inclusive, not exclusive, because it is the nature of light to shine equally on all things and all people. Therefore, dimly lit minds should not be sitting in legislatures, deciding the fate of millions of ordinary citizens who simply want the freedom to love, cherish, and legally commit to whomever they choose. When my gay and lesbian friends can marry, and when people like me can walk either side of our bisexuality with impunity, then I will stop writing about this cruel denial of rights. Until then, I'll add my voice to the fray. Cat Saunders, Ph.D., is the author of Dr. Cat's Helping Handbook, which is available through your local bookstore or online at <http://www.drcat.org/>. To learn more about the book, read Cat's controversial series on death, or find out about her telephone consultation services, please visit her Web site at <http://www.drcat.org/>. |
This is not an essay full of facts and figures. If you want to read up on the history of marriage and its long legacy of discrimination against one kind of people or another, you'll have to go elsewhere. What you're going to get here is a piece of my mind, straight from my heart.