Me & the Gays

I will never forget the experience of taking my kids to the PrideFest in Colorado Springs one year when they were little. Decked out in rainbow colors, we watched the parade and cheered as some lesbian friends passed by, we enjoyed some festival foods, and we perused the market area for information and finds. I came away with a sticker bearing the equal sign and the word "rights" on a Colorado license tag-looking background, but the kids were the big winners, as it should be.

One of the booths, situated under the shade trees of the downtown park, was advertising for a gay travel agency out of Denver. There was some game of chance that I do not recall, but both kids ended up "winning" gay rubber duckies, or "queer ducks" as they were referred to, punningly. They were so cute and for some reason we took to calling them the "uncle ducks".

But all the fun and frolic in the park was only the precursor to what was about to take place in the small band shell at the edge of the festivities. I took the kids to the top of an adjoining play structure so that they could have a bird's eye view, far above the heads of a very large crowd.

Once the announcer began, I instructed the kids to be quiet, but to watch the stage. One couple after another, in some of the most lovely garments you can imagine, took to the stage, stood facing each other, and expressed their love and affection. They were certainly vows, and though the state would never recognize them as such that did not seem to have any bearing on the commitment on full display nor on the mood of the onlookers. Standing atop that slide platform we watched as scores of people took their own version of "the plunge".

With both of my hands in theirs I couldn't do anything to adjust my appearance which led the kids to ask why Mommy was crying. As I recall I told them because this was quite possibly the most important day in some of those peoples' lives and that we'd been lucky enough to see it. But it was the fact I knew in my heart that really brought the tears: There were so many barriers put up, so many hurdles for these couples to negotiate just to get something that had no official sanction. When my husband and I got married, the only hurdles were the mandatory counseling session with the minister and the $10 marriage license fee. No blood test, no waiting for society to catch up to our plans, no outrage at the simple fact that we were in love. To this day, those were the only "weddings" at which I've ever cried.

President Obama took a big step this week toward bringing us together as a nation and provided his leadership through cultivating empathy. Everyone should be able to agree on celebrating love between people no matter who they happen to be. Our friends on the Right speak in such impassioned voices of Freedom and Liberty; I cannot see where being forced to hide your feelings to keep a job or a faith or a friend figures into those lofty ideals. Let everyone be free to pursue their happiness.

Like that day in the park so many years ago, I will never forget Wednesday either. I will always be able to recall the pride I felt in the courage of a President standing up for principle and Civil Rights...and setting aside politics for one shining moment.

I hope his statement leads to action worthy of a citizenry who are ready to put one more old prejudice aside, and that action would be to legalize Marriage Equality. In the days when you had to be 21 to drink anything alcoholic the joke was, "You can go to war and die for your country, you can get married and screw your life up real good, but you can't buy a beer!" As we could say now, "You can buy a beer and fight for your country, but you can't get married!" That's much worse and certainly no laughing matter. The next day I want to always remember is the day when our LGBT brothers and sisters are free to marry. I think it's coming soon, though never soon enough.

Every signal we send--especially to kids--is magnified in their hearts and minds. If we tell the prejudiced that hating is wrong, perhaps we can end the bullying of LGBT children. If we tell those bullied children that they are a viable and are an equal part of society with nothing to hide, maybe we could stop the suicides and the pain.

And maybe one day all the "uncles", "aunts", "friends"and "partners" who wish to be known by some other title, say "husband", "wife", "Mom" or "Dad", can feel free to call themselves just that...legally. "Daddy Ducks" sounds so much nicer, doesn't it?