The Wait is Over

The wait is over.

And so is (some of) the inequality and discrimination.

The Supreme Court has struck down DOMA, making same-sex marriages in states where they are legal also  legal on the federal level.

Mama and I are well and truly married.

I cried on the phone with Mama and with Pop.  Then went to school for the last-day party and was teary when I got hugs from several of the teachers (who asked if I were teary for the last day).

And then I told the kiddos and cried some more.

It's all good.  And now I'm baking a big celebratory rainbow birthday cake!  Thank you, Supreme Court, for Mama's wonderful birthday presents.

Waiting

I'm waiting to see if we're legally married and legally a family on a federal level today.  It's weird.  And really rather helpless feeling.

Early this week, Sis asked if the Supreme Court could make a family move, could make them separate.  She was asking because she knows about the two cases before SCOTUS.  I assured her that, no matter what, we were a family, we were staying together, that the Supreme Court didn't have that kind of power.

Yes, thank heavens we live here in Connecticut.

Even if both cases don't go our way, the worst we suffer, practically, is the continued loss of thousands of dollars in taxes.  That and a continued sense of inequality.  And righteousness.

Still, it would be wonderful if DOMA were struck down.

I've been saving some rainbow paper goods to celebrate.  And it's Mama's birthday.  Wouldn't striking down DOMA be a great birthday present from the Supreme Court?

Special Days

I never know how these conversations get started, but at dinner the other night, the kids were asking about our anniversary.  This is never a simple matter because we have several to choose from:

• the day in June 1994 that we met
• the day in August 1997 when we became a couple (the date on the calendar in the kitchen)
• the day in November 2001 that we signed official domestic partner papers in NYC
• the day in October 2005 when we celebrated our civil union
• the day in December 2008 when we legally got married in Connecticut (the date on the wooden box Mama gave me as a wedding present)

There's another date, when we had friends witness some legal papers that cemented our connection, but I can't recall that one, but it predated 2001.

Anyway, about every three or four years for almost the last two decades, we can point to a date!  

So we had to explain to the kids--again--why we have so many dates and why we didn't get married in 1997, 2001, or 2005.  They have trouble comprehending "illegal."  And they still don't fully appreciate, despite our repeated assertions, how lucky we are that we can marry even now in Connecticut.  And we haven't stressed that we are only married in CT and not federally (they wouldn't understand how this costs us thousands of dollars in taxes a year), though we mention it occasionally.

The unique moment in this specific conversation was Sis's memory of our wedding in 2008. 

 

"Wait, I remember that!  I was there!"

"Yes, you were there.  Not many kids were at their parents' wedding."

And Bud chimed it, "Cool. We were at your wedding!"

I'd say that's an unexpected perq of the challenges of same-sex marriage in this country.

What's in a Name?

I have to admit upfront that I don't get "Mrs."

And probably because I'm a lesbian, even one with a wife, I'm very rarely called "Mrs."

That, and during my decade or so in academics, no one addressed a woman except by "Ms."  Unless it's "Dr." or "Professor."

So I was pretty surprised to be introduced to a school assembly as "Mrs. Hungry" the other day.

Now, officially, "Hungry" is my maiden name.  Mama and I didn't share names when we married--because same-sex people have to PAY for the name change, which can run in the thousands.  Also, I'm attached to my last name.  It's mine.  I've used it professionally and personally for my whole life. And I saw no reason to give it up, nor did Mama hers.   In fact, it always surprises me to learn that women have given up their names in this day and age.  Always.  I understand the whole "making a new family thing," but then, why not hyphenate?  Both of you?  A whole new family.  But only one person I know hyphenated . . . and her husband did too.  I like that and have even contemplated it.  The symbolism is powerful, as is that of keeping your own name.  Or giving up.  But just what does it symbolize?

But back to the "Mrs."  I didn't correct the principal in front of the whole school or even in private afterwards, mainly because I wanted to think on it.  I'm not "Mrs. Hungry," ever.  My mom is.  If "Mrs." signals married, I didn't marry a "Hungry."  So the name just sounds so silly.  I'm not offended, mainly confused and amused.

I was at the school this morning doing copies for the arts contest and was handed a list of the staff.  Complete with their titles.  "Mrs." carefully delineated all the way down, except for the one "Mr.", the two feminist "Ms.", and just one "Miss."  What an archaic practice, perhaps one that is only kept alive in schools and suburbs?  Why did the school list need to demarcate everyone's marital status?

In fact, why is that the first thing we choose to signal someone?

Are married women as mystified by being "Ms." or "Miss"?  Does it sound silly?  Is it offensive?  Why?  Is it a pride thing to be known as married?

And what in the world do men think?  Do they get off on a woman giving up her own name to take theirs?  Would they ever give up theirs and take hers?  Is it just some quaint tradition?  Of course, it used to be patriarchy that demanded the name change.  Now it is a woman's choice.  That's as it should be.

But, even thinking on it, I can't wrap my head around making it for myself.

Though, if you call me "Mrs. Hungry," I'll answer.

They're Getting Married in the Morning!

Congrats to lesbigay citizens of NY State--you can now get married!!!

It's been a long time coming (and not just the frustratingly slow pace of the last few days).

But it's a wonderful, fairy-tale ending, especially here on Pride Weekend . . . may you get married and live happily ever after!

(And a great early birthday present for native NYer Mama!)

Question of the Day

How is it that Mexico City, in Catholic Latin America, has legalized same-sex marriage before New York City?

At least it adds another place Mama and I would be glad to visit and spend our tourist dollars.

Answering Lambeth

My friend  Lambeth writes in a comment on my blog,

"What name would you like for the sexual, mental and spiritual union between a male and female which is undertaken for life? I understand from 'Roots' that at one time it was called 'Jumping the broom'."  

And, before my mom tears him apart in a separate comment, I want to answer him, because I think it speaks to the difficulty of discussing the love that dares not speak its name.

Lambeth, I would like the name for a sexual and mental union between a male and a female which is undertaken for life to be called marriage.  Just as I would like the same union between two men or two women to be called marriage.  You will certainly notice that I took the word "spiritual" out of it.  I don't believe the state, in this case California, but more generally, the United States, has any place in defining, naming, granting privileges or rights, to a spiritual matter.  We have separation of church and state here (my dear Lambeth is across the ocean in England) and I expect it to stay separate.  Just as the U.S. does not recognize, for example, a bar or bat mitzvah as the legal coming-of-age of a Jewish child, who like his or her Christian or Muslim or UU or atheist counterparts, must wait til 18 to be a legal adult.  I don't want the government basing its legal definitions on religious ones.  Historically, marriage has been the realm of the church, sanctified in church ceremonies.  But with the secularization of government and the use of marriage as a state of being with legal rights (tax exemptions, inheritance, etc etc.  You will all remember I am not a lawyer, just a lesbian), it has become necessary to secularize our definition of marriage.  Which means dropping all the talk of gender.  

Does this mean the Catholic Church will be forced to wed women to one another?  No.  No more than it has made Jewish congregations hold bat and bar mitzvahs for 18-year olds only.  Or forced the St Patrick's Day Parade in NYC to permit GLBT groups.  Or the Boy Scouts not to discriminate against gays (and atheists).  The separation of church and state works both ways--the state cannot tell the church what or what not to accept, including gay marriage.  It reminds me of that pro-choice bumper sticker:  Don't like gay marriage?  Don't have one!  

I'm sure I could go on:  about poll numbers showing an increase in people's acceptance of gay marriage, but our president's stance against it (because of his Christian values); about gay rights groups focusing very heavily on this issue without doing a good job at really defining it (trust me, my liberal and sympathetic straight friends couldn't  tell you what the issues are, and they support us!).  What I think makes me sad about California is that people's legal rights were voted on, much like a terrible high school popularity contest.  When did rights become a popularity contest?  Imagine if we had let Americans vote outright on the rights of, say, African Americans or Catholics or Jews or Native Americans at other points in our history, or even, in some places in this country, now (I'm not a legal scholar, so if we did have those kinds of votes, let me know).  Justice Carlos Moreno, the one dissenting vote and the only Democrat, referred to gays and lesbians as one of the "disfavored minorities."  There are others:  should we start voting on their rights?  

Which leads me to my trouble with states' rights, and the obvious arbitrariness of it, where I can get married in one state and not in another. This becomes even more ridiculous when you consider transgendered rights and marriage, as pointed out by a lawyer in a Texas case for a transgendered plaintiff (see "Is My Marriage Gay?" for a great op-ed on the issue)

“Taking this situation to its logical conclusion, Mrs. Littleton, while in San Antonio, Tex., is a male and has a void marriage; as she travels to Houston, Tex., and enters federal property, she is female and a widow; upon traveling to Kentucky she is female and a widow; but, upon entering Ohio, she is once again male and prohibited from marriage; entering Connecticut, she is again female and may marry; if her travel takes her north to Vermont, she is male and may marry a female; if instead she travels south to New Jersey, she may marry a male.”

Easy enough for me, of course, because I'm in a state that has legalized gay marriage and granted me rights and protections therein.  Even if those rights don't exist when I leave the confines of my state or when the matter is federal.  Even though I'm safe here in Connecticut, it's a kind of second-class citizenship.  And when the rights of some of us are diminished, or as they were today in California, completely taken away, we are all diminished.

That's not marriage, it's travesty.

Another One

Vermont, which has long had civil unions for gay and lesbian partners, has just legalized civil marriage, over the veto of the governor.  It joins Massachusetts, CT, and Iowa in having civil marriage, but is the first state to accomplish that through the legislature and not the courts.  YAY!!!!

Go Iowa!

No, I'm not belatedly rooting for March Madness, but celebrating Iowa's Supreme Court's delcaration that gay marriage bans are unconstitutional.  This makes Iowa the third state to declare gay marriage legal!  Wow.  I haven't been keeping up recently and didn't know Iowa was in line to make such a major decision.  Very exciting.  Now we have 3 states where we can legally live as a family.  It must make GLBT in CA sad though--to think that Iowa is more progressive!  Who knew?

Licensed to . . . Love?

We have our marriage license.

Yep. Two women. One license. A wedding. A marriage.

And, as you know, we're keeping the wedding ceremony really small. The kids, my parents, my dress, some flowers in a basket, a ring pillow, some cake, the church friends. That's pretty much it. Just the way we like it.

While Connecticut says we can get married, millions if not billions of people worldwide, and their governments (including our own and our new president-elect) disagree. In California, same-sex couples could get married for awhile. Now they can't, thanks to Prop 8 and their neighbors who voted for it, and the Mormons who funded the campaign for it. In a way, we're thrilled that we can have some of the state protection of marriage (but none of the federal), that our kids will know we are married. But as lesbians, we have long avoided letting others, especially governments, define our relationships. So, to jump on the marriage bandwagon just because the state says we can (for now, though CT doesn't seem to have any particular threats to our law. But there are always the Mormons), or to invest too much in a law that can be reversed here and ignored almost everywhere else . . . well, let's just say, we are aware of the irony, historical precedents, and monumentality of the occasion.

Lambeth's challenged one of my asides about having a casual wedding, admonishing me that weddings are always a big deal. I'd say that marriage is a big deal, especially for two women in this country where our supposedly secular government defines marriage in religiously-derived terms and only a very few states have overcome that (while 36 states have taken their religious fervor and prejudice to an extreme and outlawed same sex unions). The wedding--the private celebration of the legal union--is just the proverbial icing on the cake and, as they are usually celebrated in this country, not our style or values. I like rituals and traditions myself, but as weddings are a blank slate, have decided to define ours as casual and comfortable, homey even, our minister called it "family-oriented."

Because of course, we were a family, a loving and committed couple, long before the government of Connecticut said it was okay. We've even had ceremonies before--a small gathering of friends in NYC years ago to notarize the paperwork for our city-recognized domestic partnership; a civil union in front of congregation and parents (with 3 month old babes) complete with songs, vows, and cake. We embrace the open-mindedness of our neighbors and our ability to marry in this state against the opinions of the majority of people in this country and the world, and we greatly appreciate our friends and family's excitement, support, and love surrounding our special day, and with all of that in mind, and with the knowledge that we've celebrated our union several times before publicly, and everyday of our lives privately, we're keeping this wedding "homey." (I had said "simple" to our minister and she said a lesbian wedding was never simple. And of course she's right, even our little one has had its fair share of drama and confusion).

Who knows, when the federal government legalizes it, we can always have a different one. Again.