Something happened in 2008 which I continue to cry about. Even writing this blog post this morning, I'm sat here sobbing.The issue is the passing of Proposition 8, an amendment to the Californian State Constitution to eliminate the rights of same-sex couples who want to marry. It's covered beautifully in this article by Brian Normoyle who informs us that this is the first time in America that an existing civil right has been taken away from a group of citizens and asks the (frightening) question: whose rights are next?
I've spent hours on YouTube watching footage relating to this issue, reading discussion boards, talking with my friends about this. What strikes me strongest is the immense outpouring of love which surrounds the Vote No To 8 campaign. Candlelit vigils, families protesting peacefully in the streets, posters which read: Love is the way. In this movement, I see people uniting together in love, regardless of sexual orientation, to stand up for the basic human right of being accepted for who we are.
I remember trying to find a Valentine's Day card the first year I was with Sam. I scanned the shelves and all I could see were men and women, male bears and female bears. Having spent the rest of my young adult life in relationships with men, I suddenly realised that it was different now - that there was a huge gap in how your love was received by the world, dependent purely on the gender of the person you fall in love with.
A few months later, I started working for a Cambridge organisation which provided support for young people who are lesbian, gay and bisexual. I encountered a community of inspirational teenagers who were climbing gently out into the light, done with hiding and self-loathing. I saw their struggles - with their schools, their families, their friends; I witnessed the bravery and strength it took them to say: "This is who I am". My work was sacred to me because it was about helping young people have an easier time of being themselves. It was about supporting them in finding profound self-acceptance that wouldn't be shaken by an often hateful world. Some of those young people were at our wedding in July. I don't think we can underestimate the impact of them seeing first-hand a love that they identify with being supported and acknowledged by friends, by family and by the law of this country.
On December 20th, there will be candlelit vigils across America (and beyond) to recognise the rights of same-sex couples who married and to look forward to the day when those rights will be available again for everyone. This time of year, whether you look at pagan or Christian origins, has always been about the unconquerable light in the darkness. As activist Anne Lamott writes: "Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come."
I see a dawn where people hear this message, from others' hearts to theirs:
You are okay. Your heart is true. You can follow it. We will support you in that.
Love is the way. Light up the night.
Do Things Differently
1) What do you want to join with others about? What is the issue of 2008 which touched your heart? What do you feel passionately about, what stirs you and motivates you to spread the word or do things differently?
2) Find out more about Proposition 8 if it's news to you. How do you feel about this issue? What does that tell you about what you value? And what do you want to do, to honour those values more completely?
3) On 20th December, light a candle to commemorate a human right that you hold to be sacred - either one which is now accepted, or one which is not yet granted to all people.
Extra - a beautiful song in response to the issue: United We Love
(c) Corrina Gordon-Barnes
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