My husband and I recently went back to my hometown in rural Illinois to celebrate the marriage of my nephew. Thirty years ago if you would have told me that I would be taking a husband to a straight wedding in the cornfields of Illinois, I would have looked behind you for a man in a white coat with a butterfly net. But we were there and it was profoundly wonderful.
We arrived the afternoon before the wedding for the rehearsal dinner. My brother, the proud father of the groom, had rented a refurbished train car for the party. Built in 1893 it was Teddy Roosevelt's private train car while he was campaigning for the Presidency and is now part of a restaurant. That was apropos of nothing, but how cool is that? At one point during the dinner my brother pulled me aside to tell me how thankful he was we both came and how everyone was really enjoying meeting my husband. Everyone, that is, except one of the groomsman. In my brother's diplomatic way, he told me that this guy had a real problem with "the gays" and to just steer clear of him. It didn't take me long to figure out who he was talking about. Sitting at the bride's table I noticed a man glowering at me. Thirty years ago a look like that would have frightened me. But things have changed.
The wedding was simple and beautiful. My nephew and his bride were the epitome of sweet young love without a clue. Oh the ride they're in for. But that is another diary. The part everyone wants to get to is the reception and it didn't disappoint. People made asses of themselves as only a wedding can accomplish. I am not a dancer but even I shook my biscuits and gravy.
And all the while, there sat the groomsman glaring at me. By the second cocktail, I had had enough. Instead of looking away, I met his gaze. I like to think he was smart enough to understand what I was telling him in that moment. I was saying a lot. I was saying: You no longer have the power to intimidate me. You no longer hold the upper hand. It's not me, it's you. Your opinion doesn't influence my rights. Your opinion doesn't influence my life. It is you and your bigotry that have to hide in the closet now. You and your bigotry are now unacceptable in polite society. I am loved and respected by my family and so is my husband. Your good friend is my nephew and what he is about to do next should make you deeply examine yourself.
Because what my nephew did next was hit the side of a glass with a spoon. He took the Mr. Microphone and thanked the people who had come the farthest for his wedding, me and my husband. He then announced that we had come on our third wedding anniversary and wished us congratulations. We received a heartwarming round of applause. It was one of the proudest moments of my life folks.
I didn't even bother looking at the bigot.