|Tomorrow at 10am, the California Supreme Court decides the fate of the legal challenge to Prop 8 and the fate of our marriages. I will be standing by the Court, waiting.|
|Where I stood five years ago:
six months ago tomorrow we were married in san francisco. yesterday, thanks to the california supreme court, we were unmarried. our baby girl is due to arrive in just over a week. our lawyer told us to run, not walk, down to register as domestic partners should our marriages become invalidated. we spent an excruciating and ultimately fruitless few hours today, nearly as much time as we spent getting married that valentine’s day, trying to second-class our union by registering as domestic partners (more)…
|Where I stood one year ago:
On Thursday, May 15, it’s true, Bette Midler’s particularly brassy-voiced version of “Chapel of Love” was ringing through my head as I was running down Market Street trying to get to the California State Building by 10am, in time for the Supreme Court’s decision on In Re Marriage. (As you may remember,) It was a very hot day, and I was panting and sweaty by the time I reached the Supreme Court — not in good shape for my photo opp with Kate Kendell — but I was feeling surprisingly hopeful about the immediately pending decision on marriage (more)…
|Where I stood six months ago:
Much has been written and discussed since November 4, 2008 in the attempt to sort out why our efforts in California against Proposition 8 failed to actually beat the proposition. We should of course study hard and learn from mistakes, and above all move forward with this momentum. But what continues to impress me the most is the collective spirit of giving — of all of your stories — that has taken place as a result of this profound effort (more)…
|Where will I stand the day after tomorrow?
Where do you stand?
You are asked now, by your country, and perhaps by your creator, to stand on one side or another. You are asked now to stand, not on a question of politics, not on a question of religion, not on a question of gay or straight. You are asked now to stand, on a question of love. All you need do is stand, and let the tiny ember of love meet its own fate.
You don’t have to help it, you don’t have it applaud it, you don’t have to fight for it. Just don’t put it out. Just don’t extinguish it. Because while it may at first look like that love is between two people you don’t know and you don’t understand and maybe you don’t even want to know. It is, in fact, the ember of your love, for your fellow person just because this is the only world we have.
— Keith Olbermann
I was in the NCLR overflow room helping to Twitter about the oral argument challenging Prop 8 on Thursday. I have some thoughts about online vs. offline activism and the socialization of the court that are far from fully developed and I’ll save for later, but first I wanted to do my little part to spread my current delusion.
My friends, champions who have been working around the clock for marriage rights for all, are tired and disappointed that the situation does not look good for actually overturning Proposition 8. I know that’s the general consensus. I was thrown into a dark place when I had to step around “Yes on 8” people when I took my daughter to school. That was a bad day, and I know hate features much more than hope in the word-cloud surrounding the event. And thanks to cawins for Flickring the picture on this post and to Dianna for blogging more of the reality of these truly disturbing images.
But I am hopeful …? I must be delusional, naive, and sick.
Probably all that, and this: Because Tony Wilson said this to me on my way to the oral argument Thursday morning:
@moyalynne Saw the marches this morning and it makes me proud to know you. You’re making the future better for our sons & daughters. GO!!
Because Kate Kendell said this:
My kids understand, sometimes even better than I do, what’s real in life and what really matters. We have to reflect that hope back to them, and the belief in what is ultimately possible.
And because I only know these wonderful people and so many more because of this fight — in the first place.
Today I choose hope over hatred or hurt exactly because this choice matters — words matter — and you don’t need to be on one side or another to know that. I will probably need you to remind me of this tomorrow or the next day and maybe the next and particularly on that day sometime within 88 days from now, when the court rules. But not today — today I feel the tiny pinprick to my heart, the very tip of the long tail, wagging the dog.
And because in the end, I was there at the doors of the Supreme Court that day last year on which they decided that words *do* matter, and for a few (all-too-short) months, everybody knew exactly what that meant. Let me fight for my life when I start to forget this again. And I will forget – but at this moment I think that if I look, you will be there for me.
PS: To support hope, consider a gift: http://bit.ly/SupportNCLR