First diary here, have been lurking for a while.
I'm a Canadian married to an ex-pat Yank (her family left California for Quebec when she was seven, she now has dual citizenship.) I've been strangely obsessed by American presidential politics since my late teens, and this year is no exception. What is an exception is the way in which I've dragged my wife in this year---to the point that she's registering and voting for Barack Obama. She's always voted in Canadian elections, this is the first time she'll vote in an American one. I'm giddy with excitement!
I watched a lot of the coverage of the DNC and got her to come watch Barack's speech with me. At the last minute I called our 10 year old son down to come see it too---to witness history. His five year old brother came too, but mostly just for couch snuggles.
My ten year old is the only one in our family with a current passport---he got it this summer so he could spend a week in Martha's Vineyard with my brother's family. My brother and his wife and daughter moved to New Jersey seven years ago. The cousins have met a few times, and really bonded, and keep in touch regularly over web cams. So my boy has been to the states, and he understands that his Mummy's family came from there. But I can't pretend he's really that interested in politics. Still, I thought that someday he might appreciate that he'd witnessed the dawn of a new era.
Now my boy's a bright 10 year old, but he is 10, a lot of the speech went over his head---watching it with us was more of an indulgence on his part, rather than true interest, but he did stick through the whole thing. It was our discussion about the speech later that really drove some truths home for me.
I told my son that the reason we wanted him to watch the speech was that we were watching history being made, the first time a black person had a real shot at being president of the United States.
We tried to give him a quick history of the civil rights movement, but first we had to get him to believe a truly startling preposition.
We had to back up and explain to my son about racism---he looked at us as if we were aliens when we explained that some people judge others by the colour of their skin. He really couldn't believe it, couldn't understand why that might be. Bigotry was a startling, foreign concept to him----why would anyone think the colour of your skin had anything to do with anything?
If you're a parent there are moments when you just fall in love with your kid all over again. My sweet, sweet boy, whose teachers praise him for being a truly gentle spirit. Can't wrap his head around the concept of bigotry.
We live in a small city in Northern Ontario, predominantly white, but changing to more diverse. He went to a racially mixed day care---a lot of those same kids go to school with him, up the street from our house. He's as blond and pale as his viking ancestor---the girl he's been in love with since kindergarten has one black grandparent. While discussing this concept of thinking someone was less because of the colour of their skin, I decided to personalize it, I asked, "Well, do you know any black people?" He started thinking---that whole screwing up his face, obviously trying to remember if he did. I mentioned the name of a class mate, and he went, "Oh, yeah." It was obvious it had never occurred to him to categorize someone by their colour, he'd never consciously thought about them in terms of their race, because no one had ever thought to do it for him---he just accepted that people come in different packages---it's all the same to him. Which I think underscores that old saw that you have to be taught to hate. I'm not suggesting that racism is on the wane, or that his experience wouldn't be much different if he himself weren't white, just that I really think that his generation is moving towards a colour blind society, specifically because they are being raised together. I know the real world will intrude, he'll witness racism even if he's not a target himself, and I hope he will continue to think it's the stupidest thing he's ever heard of.
But that's not the gobsmacked moment.
He watched the vice presidential debates with us tonight, mostly I think for the fun of watching my reactions to the Governor's speil---I had to apologize for my at least thankfully muffled expletives at one point. But he was paying attention to what they were saying, hence the gobsmacked moment. It was during the same sex marriage exchange when he turned to my wife and said, "What are they talking about?"
"Well," explained my wife, "A lot of Americans don't think two women or two men should be able to get married."
His mouth opened, his eyes bulged, he was gobsmacked.
Another thing about my son---when he was four he was diagnosed with a lazy eye---a great catch by our family doctor at one of those 'healthcare' appointments all Canadians are insured for (sorry, don't mean to rub it in). He had to wear glasses and an eye patch. .
The first day he went to school wearing them he came home in tears because the kids teased him for wearing glasses. That afternoon I phoned the school and asked if I could pay the class a visit. (It was a success, I brought sunglasses, eye patches, my own, almost blind glasses. I explained why he had to wear them, let them try on our glasses so they could see what it was like to have eyes that needed excercises, I probably juggled, I'm very entertaining, and I got their cooperation to help my boy remember to wear his glasses, it was great---but that's beside the point.)
What is the point? Well, I was sitting near the door waiting for my turn to do my thing. There were two kids at the table nearest me, a boy who had known our family since daycare, and a little girl I'd never met.
The little girl asked who I was. The boy kinda shrugged and said, matter of factly, "That's __'s other Mom."
He'd grown up with my kid, I'd known him since he was 10 months old, and while apparently in kindergarten society glasses were startling and worthy of teasing, having two moms was no biggie.
Really, you have to be taught to hate.
So, my wife will vote for Barack. And I'm so impressed by both the men on this ticket, but I'm glad my sons are growing up Canadian like their Mom.
My wife and I have been together for twelve years. She carried both of our sons, but we are both listed as parents on the birth certificates. The laws have changed rapidly during our time together, and in our son's lives. When he was a year old, my wife got subsidized day care for our son, because I was not recognized as a parent (even though they'd let my name stand on the birth certificate.) We didn't complain too hard---as Ellen says, let the bigotry work for you. But before he was three the woman from the subsidy office met up with my wife on the street and gushed, "The laws have changed, you and your partner are recognized as common-law." Good bye subsidy, hello the beginnings of equality.
When our second son was only a few days old we took turns holding onto him as we spoke at the federal hearings considering the issue of same-sex marriage in Canada. I was, again, entertaining, I said that our family was just like any other, that we had gone to a fertility clinic for the same reason many heterosexual couples had---low sperm count. I asked why anyone in Canada could get married,criminals, murderers could get married, heck even politicians could get married, but the wouldn't let us, cause we were both girls. They played that bit on the radio that day, and the front page of the local paper had a picture of our MP holding our son while chatting with my wife.
Later that spring, while picking up my older son at school a friend and fellow parent greeted me with the exciting news about the court case that legalized same sex marriage in Ontario. I proposed to my wife later that week, and we were married on August 2. Our wedding invitation had a picture of our sons on the front---inside they invited people to join in the celebration of their parents' wedding.
It was a very non traditional wedding---most of our friends were couples with kids, and we wanted a family friendly celebration. We rented a local day camp; after the United Church minister married us, our guests swam and kayaked and frolicked on the beach. My brother in law juggled while riding a unicycle across the lawn. A magician entertained after supper. (Gee, those kids are probably gonna find traditional weddings a real let down---this is how we'll destroy marriage I guess.)
So, here we are, five years later, two kids, one dog, one cat, one mortgage, a relatively unremarkable family---but one with the same rights and obligations as any other Canadian family, no better nor less, just, you know, equal. The world hasn't ended, our country still manages to move forward, we have much to learn, but we seem to understand that we are all in it together.
So, while I was euphoric watching Joe Biden own that debate, and while I find Barack Obama truly inspiring, I'm still feeling a little sad tonight that, impressive as they are, they still can't wrap their heads around the marriages, the families like mine. They still don't quite get it---they don't have to believe in same sex marriage, they certainly don't have to engage in it, but I'm not the Easter Bunny, I'm not something to be believed in. I'm just married to the woman I love.
But I think their kids and their grandkids will get it. Will be as gobsmacked as my son was that once people were judged more or less deserving of equal treatment under the law because of the people they loved. That's the hope I live with.