I knew
I had undergone a successful Facebook friend-purge when I logged into my
account yesterday and was met with dozens of red equal signs. People dismiss “Facebook activism” as lazy
and empty, and to a point I agree, but sometimes I enjoy visual representations
of common sense. That being said, after
24 hours of a consistently positive newsfeed, this status managed to sneak
through the cracks of my master filtering rationale (e.g. Do I feel said person
would be appropriately disturbed by the phrase “binders full of women”?):
“I married a man. Under God. Which this nation was founded under
Him. So my heart and beliefs go to Him. I know my spouse would say the same.”
There are a lot of things I could say to this (I might begin
with: Stellar sentence construction),
but most responses have already been verbalized much more clearly and
gracefully than I could have managed in a Facebook comment. Also, it’s been a
longstanding belief of mine that in Facebook arguments, there are only losers.
But I do want to say a couple things, because I’ve been having
an imaginary conversation with this person - and people who share her opinions - all day. So, although I am really
overflowing with gratitude for the members of the LGBT community, especially
the Allies, who are showing their colors (see what I did there? With the red
equal signs?), I’m going to go ahead and address this post to all the
haters. Mostly because I’ve always
wanted to address something to “haters” since Jay-Z is my spirit animal.
So, to the haters:
I have been one of you, so I do appreciate the fervor with which
you’re expressing your beliefs. I
understand what you think is at stake. I
can imagine how you feel right now, to look around you and perceive the moral foundations of society
crumbling. You have to be scared and
angry, so I don’t wonder that you’re saying some hurtful things. I’m hurtful when I’m scared and angry, and
also when I’m hungry or haven’t had enough coffee. I’m imagining some of you poorly-fed and
under-caffeinated conservative folks are just completely blowing up an
unluckier individual’s Facebook feed right now, and, truly, I do get it.
But, whatever
you say your God wants (and I qualify with “your” very consciously here,
because I have a feeling, if you’re truly representing your Deity’s feelings on
love, we worship very different Gods) doesn’t really have much to do with what
the state allows. This, I know, does not
quell your religious outrage, so let’s deal with that. You’re comfortable telling people what God
wants and doesn’t want, and to a certain point I understand that, even if I
don’t agree with it. But since that’s
the rhetoric we’re deploying, I want to play, too. I don't think God cares that I identify as
bisexual. Really, I don’t. I’m inferring this because I spent years begging
God to make me straight, and here I am, decidedly, happily not. What I
recognize now is that I was so busy begging, I didn’t stop to hear God telling
me that my sexuality was something to celebrate.
I also
want to say that I’m writing this as a woman who has not spent a lot of time
dreaming of her wedding, and as a person who completely agrees with the
argument that the legalization of same-sex marriage will likely not bring about structural
change. Yet I still deeply care about
this issue, because I am basely opposed to someone telling me what I can and
cannot love. I also think denying
same-sex couples equal rights is symptomatic of larger issues in society, and
simply makes people feel inferior. Let’s
not do that, OK? There’s no point. My hypothetical marriage to another woman
would not invalidate your hypothetical marriage to someone of the opposite
sex. Really, as charming as I find your
Facebook statuses, I do not want to marry you, so you’re safe. Truly.
Now, I’ve
spent a lot of time telling you what I do understand, but I also want to
address something that is beyond my grasp:
What is it about my capacity to love another human being that threatens
you? I want you to dig deep and answer
that, because that’s a question I had to answer to come to terms with my own
identity. (And, for the love of God, I’m
not suggesting you’re all closeted homosexuals.
I just want you to think about what you’re fearing here, and ask if it’s
rational)
After I
came out to my sister, she asked me how I felt, if I was scared of anything. I said I was acutely afraid, because there were so
many people I loved, so many people who were important to me, whose opinions of
me would fundamentally change if they knew.
Jess said something that I hope every closeted member of the LGBT
community will hear one day: “We don’t need anyone who doesn’t accept you. Anyone who can’t love you for who you are
does not deserve to be a part of our lives.”
I want
you to know that while you are a multifaceted creature whose opinion on
homosexuality does not comprise your identity, and we do actually need you and
benefit from you in our society, we do not need your rhetoric. This is a debate
you’re going to lose. You aren’t
building anything, you aren’t protecting anything, you’re merely trying to stop
growth. I’m sorry you’re scared. I know how uncomfortable you are; I remember
how that feels, and I am willing to be patient as you shake off these
prejudices – a shedding of old skin that can take a long time. But, friends, you’re on the wrong side of
history. I mean, come on, just check
out our kickass profile pictures.