(This is my very first diary. I think the new DK4 format takes the pressure off a bit. I used to feel that to write a diary, I needed to put together a well-researched treatise. But now that even MeteorBlades is promising to start posting poetry and pictures of his cat, I figure I can take a stab at a post that is more "diary" and less "Diary.")
I'm getting married.
It should be (and in some ways is) the happiest time of my life. After years of accepting that I would never get to enjoy marriage, I met a woman I love with all my heart. We became friends, we dated, we moved in together, and we decided we wanted to be together for the rest of our lives.
But with my happiness comes a heightened recognition of the pain of discrimination. As we go through the process of planning our wedding and the life together that will follow it, I'm constantly reminded of the reality that in this country, my partner and I are second-class citizens.
Some of my straight friends seem oblivious to all this. They celebrate with us and congratulate us and assume that our marriage will be just like theirs. But it won't. The blindness of privilege keeps them from seeing those reminders of inequality that confront me every day.
For example, unless they are a mixed-race couple married prior to 1967, their own wedding plans probably didn't involve finding a state where they were legally allowed to be married, but that was the first step in our planning. In a just world, we would be able to get married in our home state, where all our friends and family could join us. But instead we had to choose among the handful of states with some LGBT marriage rights, and pick the one that would be least inconvenient. It means much greater expense for us and it also means fewer of our loved ones will be able to attend.
But more important than the inconvenience of a long-distance wedding is the harsher fact that while we will be legally wed in the location of our ceremony, the minute we cross the state line, we will once again be legally single.
When we return home after the ceremony, we will be, in the eyes of the law, strangers. Our marriage will be legally meaningless. Our own state will not recognize our union, and neither will the federal government. So our wedding plans also must include all the legal paperwork that (we hope) will protect us, allow us to inherit, to share property, to visit each other when sick, and so on, things that would happen automatically if we were straight. Needless to say, tips for how to do this are not part of the normal wedding planning guides. And some marriage benefits will still be out of reach to us, no matter what we pay a lawyer to do.
Luckily, my workplace grants domestic partner benefits. To get them, we have to provide evidence that we are truly a couple. Ironically, our marriage will not count as such evidence. A joint checking account carries more weight with my employer than a legal marriage in another state.
Thankfully, we are both American citizens, so we don't have to worry, as some of my friends have, about immigration status. Because if we did, we know that again, our marriage wouldn't mean a thing.
If we move to New York or one of the other states that recognizes out-of-state same-sex marriages, we'll be officially married again (I assume). But when we leave, we'll be legal strangers once more. If the marriage rights in the place we're getting married were to be overturned (as they were in California) we'd be at the mercy of others to decide whether or not we would still be married.
In addition to all the practical, legal, and financial disadvantages to this arrangement, it's simply cruel. If marriage is supposed to be about creating stable social systems, toying with people's lives like this is anything but.
We obviously will be married in our hearts, but beyond that, our marriage will be in a constant state of uncertainty and legal fuzziness. Only when we have marriage equality in ALL states AND at the federal level will we be able to enjoy the same kind of marriage our straight friends have.
Well-meaning, liberal, supportive folk talk about how great it is we can now get married, and of course I'm thankful that things have progressed enough to give us this much. But a sprinkling of marriage rights or civil unions in a few states is not enough. Complacent reassurances that eventually people will come around trivialize our struggle and imply that we should be happy with these crumbs of marriage, that we deserve no more than to live with uncertainty and fear.
I first decided to write this when reading psychodrew's inaugural post on Angry Gays. Because I am angry.
I get angry every time I read news about the Prop 8 trial or about the marriage amendment working its way through the Indiana legislature or about NOM attempting to sabotage equality in Maryland. I get angry every time I see the White House evade the topic of marriage equality or read quotes from our President talking about how marriage is between a man and a woman or that it should be left up to the states or that God is in the mix. I get angry when the President I supported, who I believe to be a very smart man with a genuine understanding of issues of discrimination and equality, says things that belie his intelligence and his awareness.
Some commenters in Clarknt67's diary on this topic ask why it matters what the President says. It matters because his statements give cover to the real bigots, the Huckabees and Palins and the Yes on 8 proponents. It matters because he makes discrimination and inequality acceptable. I just want to hear my President say that I am equal to him, that my relationship with my future wife is just as valid as his with his wife. But he either thinks I'm not equal or he puts such a low value on equality that he's willing to trade it away for political gain.
I'm happy for the progress that has been made so far, and I'm looking forward to marriage with a wonderful woman. But I will continue to be angry until we--and all citizens--have true equality.