It's called Segregation

I've gotten a bunch of notes from people is response to the holiday message I sent to members of The Marrying Kind group on Facebook, so I decided to post it here: Hope it inspires you.

I wish you all health, peace, and happiness. What I especially wish and pray for is that we will all have equality in our life times.

Several years ago, I stopped saying that I support same-sex marriage rights and I started saying that I support the end of marriage segregation. Many people would rather not think of marriage in terms of segregation. But of course that's what it is in the United States and many other countries around the world. 

Whether or not one supports same-sex marriage has been allowed to become a philosophical debate. Somehow, whether or not one supports gay marriage has no impact on a person's character. How did that happen? Our beloved, and respected ( I respect him, too) President-Elect does not support gay marriage rights. This is an acceptable position even among many liberals.

However what happens if we change the language? President-elect Obama (And more that half the country) support segregation. That somehow feels less acceptable, doesn't it?

Framing marriage-rights in terms of segregation is honest and explains the rage so many of us who support the end of marriage segregation feel.

My guess is that you would not have joined The Marrying Kind if you didn't believe segregation was wrong. I credit my parents for instilling this belief in me. I don't go to weddings because it sends the message that I support segregation. And I do not.

I ask that you will all talk to others about marriage in terms of segregation. Tell your friends how that makes you feel.

Oh, and since it's Christmas time, I'm wondering if you'd all play Santa for me and get some of your anti-segregationist friends of yours to join The Marrying Kind. If you can't invite everyone, even two or three new members from each of you would be a delight!

Again, my best wishes for the season

Ken O'Neill

http://www.new.facebook.com/group.php?gid=20197089649&ref=mf

God Help Us

Once again I'm feeling that gays are dispensable. That our rights don't matter. That we, as a segment of the U.S. population, are insignificant.  I don't want to feel this way.

What's got me riled this morning?

The news that President-elect Obama has chosen Rick Warren to deliver the invocation at his inauguration.  Rick Warren who worked to get Prop 8 passed in California.

Feeling the need to deliver an olive branch to Christian conservatives, Obama has slapped gays in the face.  The message is clear: We don't matter.

I urge you all to let your voices be heard. Tell President-elect Obama that you are troubled by his selection.

You can write him here:  http://change.gov/page/content/contact/webloc

Below is the letter I just wrote:

Dear President-elect Obama,

I'm honored to have had the privilege of voting for you. And I truly believe you are our nation's best hope. Your intellect and demeanor are exactly what are required as we enter this extremely difficult chapter in our history. I wish you the best.

I must say, however, that I am deeply troubled by your choice to include Rick Warren as a part of your inauguration . This man actively worked to see that Prop 8 passed in California. At a time when so many in the GLBT community feel that the promise of change that your candidacy brought was delivered to all Americans except gays, this choice reinforces that troubling feeling.

Sir, when you were born your own parents could not have wed in every US state. That marriage segregation was wrong. The exclusion of gays and lesbians from this most basic of rights is equally wrong.

I understand that you do not support the end of marriage segregation. I knew this when I voted for you. And though I strongly disagree with you on this point, my respect for you, and my support of so many of your other positions inspired me to work for your campaign.

I am asking, as a supporter of yours, and as a gay American, for you to reconsider having someone as divisive as Rick Warren speak at your inauguration.

Please.

Because there should be no place for segregation in the United States.

Respectfully,

Ken O'Neill

40 years after Milk

I saw Milk this morning. It's a fine film filled with great performances, especially from Sean Penn as the late Harvey Milk. The movie spans the years 1970 -1978. And focuses on Milk's last year of life when he was the first openly gay elected official in the country.

It's hard not to draw comparisons between 1978 and 2008. They're both years in which Californians went to the polls to decide on the fates of their gay neighbors. In '78 it was prop 6 a bill to force gay teachers out of the school system. This year, of course, was prop 8, the bill making it illegal for gays and lesbians to wed.

One likes to believe we've come so far in 40 years. And indeed in many ways we have. We are more visible, we have more power. We have followed the advice of Harvey Milk and so many of us have come out of the closet.

But now, as I think about the film just three hours after viewing it, I wonder just how much progress we've really made?

In 1978 when Californians were asked to deny their gay neighbors rights, the bill was overwhelmingly defeated. Back then, voters decided on the side of civil rights. But this year -- 40 years later-- when voters in California went to the polls they chose to deny their gay neighbors civil rights.

I'm not sure what lesson there is to learn from this. Perhaps that we must remain vigilant. And that we must fight until we all have equality. Settling for things being better is not enough. When things are equal we can rest.

Harvey Milk asked for thousands to follow in his footsteps, to do the work he began. Let us all hear his call.

Tying the knot

I came across a marriage equality website today that I wanted to let you all know about. It's called whiteknot.org   Please visit the site and participate.

The idea is a simple one: wear a white ribbon tied in a knot as a symbol that every person, regardless of sexual orientation, should have the right to marry.

As I write about this today, on World AIDS day, I think about the powerful symbol the red ribbon was, and continues to be, in raising recognition about the AIDS crisis. In the 80s and early 90s, at a time when so many people were refusing to take action-- to even utter the word AIDS-- people of conscience donned ribbons and forced a conversation to happen. The ribbon brought an end to silence and forced politicians into action. Action that led to research and hope.

 I think about my own brother, Gene, today who died in 1996 from AIDS.  I remember the first time I saw him wearing a ribbon, I remember him making me one, pinning it to my lapel. Being so strong when I was not.

Today, I will make myself a whiteknot. I will make one for my partner. I will make them for my friends.  As I so often do, I will think about my brother while I tie these knots. I'll remember his humor, his strength, his spirit.  If he were alive, I know he'd be by my side, in the fight for marriage equality. He'd be buying the white ribbon right now.

We must none of us be silent on this civil rights issue. I'm actually rather shy, quiet. My brother was the outgoing one. Still, I will force myself not to cower, not to be afraid. I will speak the truth about marriage segregation.  And when it's difficult finding the words, I'll let the whiteknot speak for me.

I hope you will as well.

No More Mr. Nice Gay

Something dramatic has shifted in the mood of gays & lesbians I've been in contact with. It started Wednesday, after the euphoria of the Obama election started passing and the realization that we had somehow taken two steps forward and three back. We, as a group, have found our anger and our voice. Because, this wasn't the CHANGE we were hoping for. The promise of change was not supposed to strip us of rights. The promise of change was not supposed to be just for some.  The WE, of Yes we Can, was supposed to include me, too.

And so we must respond. And protesting has begun.  I am, and most people I know are thrilled by the prospect of an Obama white house. That does not mean we shut up about the injustices of Tuesday.

I urge everyone who supports equality to start making some noise. Take to the streets, write a letter, skip a wedding. Do something.

Today I received a note from a man in California who moved there from NY 6 months ago to marry his partner.  I can not begin to imagine the pain he must be feeling now.  From his sadness, I imagine will come anger, from anger the conviction to fight.  It's a feeling so many of us have now.

On facebook where I have my group The Marrying Kind, several hundred people have joined since Wednesday night. They in turn have invited their friends.  Several other protest groups have formed.

This election was joyous but also shined a harsh light on the reality of life for gays and lesbians in America.  Something has shifted. I don't think we will be complacent any longer.

You see, we heard the message. Followed the man's call. Supported, fought and believed.

WE STILL BELIEVE:  CHANGE

Yes, we can.

Mom

My mother called me this afternoon. That's nothing new, we talk several times a week on the phone.  For the last several months our conversations have been mostly about politics.  We're on the same side of issues so our chats were never heated, except when we were both upset about something the "other side" had said or done. Or we'd both seen Elizabeth on The View.

Today, she asked me how I was doing using her I-love-you-and-I'm-very-concerned voice.

"I'm fine," I said.

"I'm so, so sorry."

I wasn't following.

She was referring to the contests: Prop 8, Florida, Arizona, Arkansas.   "It's horrible," she said. "I just don't understand."

When I first told my mother that my partner and I were no longer attending weddings as a form of protest, she said "okay but couldn't you just send your regrets without getting into the reason."   She didn't want to offend anyone.  

Today she was speaking in a very different way. How, she wondered, could someone vote for Obama and then also vote for hate? Did they not understand the message of CHANGE?

I had no answer for her.

Before we hung up, her voice began to crack. "I want you to know something. As far as I'm concerned you and Marcus are married. I pray someday the country will recognize that. I'm so proud of you."

I'm proud of you too Ma, I wanted to say. But the words didn't come.

victory

Today, everywhere I look I see smiling faces on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Last night history was made with the election of Barack Obama. I heard the cheering crowds, and I joined them. Hope renewed.

This morning I awoke to discover that same-sex marriage bans had passed in Florida and Arizona. Arkansas passed legislation keeping gays from adopting.  And proposition hate (I mean, 8) will likely pass.

How is it that all of these Americans excited by the prospect of change do not want change for gays and lesbians?

Today is a joyous day. But it is also for me terribly bittersweet.  Our journey will be long, our road filled with obstacles, we must persevere. We must fight. For CHANGE is for all of us.

I urge you all to say how thrilled you are about the results of this presidential election. And then add the But.... But I am saddened, frustrated, recommitted to the cause of equality.

We have seen a black man become president in our life times.  I don't believe we will see an openly gay or lesbian president in my lifetime. It certainly can't happen until we have equal rights.  If we can't serve in the military, If we can not marry, we can not lead our country.

Please, if you have not already, join me in boycotting federally recognized marriage until every US citizen can wed.

Chuck & Larry?

I just this moment opened an e-mail from HRC.  And I learned that last week at a Senate hearing on equal family benefits for LGBT federal workers, the Bush Administration's Howard Weitzman referenced the plot of the Adam Sandler movie I Now Pronounce you Chuck & Larry, which is a homophobic little romp about two straight guys pretending to be gay, as EVIDENCE that the program would be scammed.

Honestly, not since I can see Russia from my house, have I heard anything more ludicrous. 

I urge you to check out the HRC website. If I had more tech savvy the link would be write here. But I don't, so please type it in.  They have a petition calling for equal benefits for same-sex federal workers--Gosh, does that mean they don't already have the same benefits as their straight counterparts-- please sign it.

making new "friends"

Hi all,

I've been spending a lot of time making new facebook friends as I talk about The Marrying Kind. What I'm suggesting (I'm discovering) feels pretty radical to a lot of people. Here's what I wrote to someone who thought getting straight couples to stop getting married was a good idea ( I agree, by the way) but he thought not going to weddings was not a good idea (I disagree, by the way). Especially bad if the couples were poor.

Below: my response

In the US most marriage ceremonies are big events. (Even when the couples are poor).

I completely agree that it would be fantastic if straight couples stayed unwed in solidarity. But, I find that movement a little daunting to take on (especially, since I'm even having trouble convincing people to avoid buying microwaves and toasters). I promise, if you start that facebook group, I will join it -- gladly!

While I really believe that my plan can work--because affecting the economy does create change--there is another reason that I no longer attend weddings. And it is this reason most of all that keeps me at home on my friends big day. I find being there unbelievably painful. Even when it's the wedding of people I truly love.

It is against (federal) law for me to get married. It's illegal. The life I have made with my partner for 11 years is unlawful. Why must I be a good sport, and slap a smile upon my face, and kiss the bride and toast them and celebrate. I have done it for years and I know longer can. My attendance sends the message that I approve of the current definition of marriage in America. I DO NOT.

Do you?

I am tired. I am angry. And I want justice.

I understand that most others don't feel this strongly. But it's interesting to examine why we, as a group, don't. If I started a facebook group inviting people to stop going to clubs that wouldn't let blacks or jews, or any other group in I'd have had thousands of members.

Yet what I'm up to seems, to me, to be the same thing. I can go to the wedding. I can eat the meal. Listen to the band. But I can't join. Not in a real way. So really. why should I want to be there. I have more self respect than that.

And, I can tell you, when I have explained my position to my straight engaged friends they have understood. I have not lost friends over this position of mine. In fact, I have forged stronger bonds.

I ask you to help me by telling your friends what I'm up to. I realize many others will feel as you do. And of course that's ok. But maybe for one or two The Marrying Kind will resonate. I'd love to have them join me -- I could use the help.

my best regards,

Ken O'Neill

www.themarryingkind.org  

The 30 Billion Dollar Designer Original

The other day I learned that last year alone thirty billion dollars was spent on wedding dresses in the United States. 

"How much?" I said, after hearing the staggering sum.

Hearing that figure recommitted me to this movement and to the idea of creating a group of committed individuals who are systematically chipping away at the US wedding industry by non involvement in the marriage economy. 

How about we shoot to lower that number to below 20 billion next year? 

Some really amazing straight women have joined The Marrying Kind facebook group. I'm somewhat surprised by the number. But I guess I shouldn't be. I think, in particular, women understand the importance of a wedding. The importance of what being able to say, "we are married," means in this society. And they understand that anything less than being married-- being in a civil union, or domestic partnership-- is not equality. It's another way of saying you are less.

As I wrote about in a prior blog, I heard from one woman who, along with her boyfriend, have decided not to marry until gays and lesbians can marry. (note: when I say marry, I mean Federal marriage). I think it's amazing that they're doing that. But I also know that's more than most straight couples will be willing to do. Because, as gay couples are already painfully aware, all those federal rights are really hard to live without.

But I do believe there are a lot of straight couples, who might be willing to get married without the party, without the dress, the band, the favors. Maybe, in the end, it will be a lot of straight women of conviction, who by slashing the budgets for their weddings, make the difference in gays and lesbians having equality.

Maybe these straight women will create a new kind of ceremony for themselves: Just her and her beloved, maybe a few family members and friends (who haven't bought any presents) a justice of the peace.  Maybe they're standing on the beach, he's in a pair of old faded jeans; she wears an ancient sundress. They're sharing the vows they wrote themselves.

When they've finished--when they're married--She thanks their friends for coming. But there is no dinner. Instead, they promise their friends that there will be a party someday. They just don't know when.  It might take awhile.

And then... who knows?  Maybe Vera Wang, shocked by her plummeting dress  sales, makes a phone call. She must know important political people. Don't you think? She's Vera Wang!

This is how change happens. (Okay maybe not the Vera Wang part) But, maybe.

It's just about thinking in a different way. And always believing that one person can make a difference. 

And remember, nobody looks that great in that super expensive, giant white dress.

Wouldn't you be more comfortable in something you already have in your closet?

The Kindness of Strangers

The Marrying Kind movement -- a boycott of the marriage economy-- is in its infancy. The boycott will continue until equal federal marriage rights are granted to same-sex couples. The challenge, at this early stage, has been how to spread the word and get others to join me in this fight. 

How exactly do I get the attention of people and explain to them that refusing to attend marriages, as long as they remain segregated institutions, will go a long way in bringing about change? How do I convince people to stop buying wedding presents? How exactly do I, and all those involved in The Marrying Kind, chip away at the profits of the wedding economy and become Williams-Sonoma's worst nightmare?

My web designer, Ping Fang suggested I start a group on Facebook to bring attention to the boycott. I'd been invited in the past to join Facebook, but never really saw the point of spending time online with friends when it seems hard enough to find time to spend with friends in real life.

As I began exploring Facebook, I stumbled upon groups called I love cheese (and I love bacon). There was one called Close your Damn Legs, directed at subway riders who hog seats. These groups, and countless others, each have thousands of members. Amazing.

Millions of people support marriage equality, so I was convinced my group would attract vast numbers on Facebook. The Marrying Kind group offers positive action steps to achieve that goal. Soon, I was sure, The Marrying Kind would be bigger than I Love Cheese. After all, I reasoned Facebook must be filled with people who are lactose intolerant or saturated-fat phobic, or just don't like the taste. How many of its members really want to see gays and lesbians marginalized and disenfranchised?

So I joined Facebook, formed the group and invited fifty or so friends and then I waited. For days it was a group of two: myself and my amazing web designer, Ping Fang. Soon after, my oldest and dearest friend, Alison joined. Within five days we were twenty.

A week later we reached twenty-three members.  Even though I hadn't done very much to actively solicit members, despair was setting in.  I could not bring myself to check what I was convinced would be the rapidly growing membership of I love cheese. (Could they have reached one million?)  Disgusted by the swarms of cheddar-lovers, I decided to eliminate dairy from my diet. Also, I briefly toyed with the idea of starting a group called, I loathe cheese. I abandoned that notion as being a time waste which would do nothing to bring about gay marriage rights.

My morning routine became log onto Facebook, confirm that the group remained a static twenty-three. Then I'd make coffee (fortunately, what with my dairy ban, I drink it black).

Miraculously, one morning while checking on The Marrying Kind group, I saw that we had jumped to twenty-eight members. My friends were coming through for me! Those thirty or so friends of mine who had ignored my invitation finally were having a change of heart. They were joining.

But no.  These five new members were not friends of mine, nor did we have friends in common. The new members were all students or alumni from Kent State. Kent State? How did that happen?

Here's how: I received a note and a "friend request" from a woman named Marta Roueiheb. She had come upon the group while searching facebook and immediately responded to my call to action. She told me that she's been with her boyfriend, Jason Byard, for six years, but long ago they decided they would not wed until gay marriage was legalized. She and Jason joined The Marrying Kind. Marta invited over one hundred of her friends.

I was amazed and excited and unbelievably moved that a couple who can legally marry have chosen not to until I can get married too.

Within two days, our membership had passed forty-- still a small group. But considering half of the members are friends of one straight couple I've never met, who live in a state I've never visited, it's truly exciting.

I imagine other Marta and Jason's -- all over the country, at every university-- finding the website or this blog or the Facebook group, and being similarly moved. These people will join. They will tell their friends. They will invite others. And like the old shampoo ad-- And So On, And So On, And So On...

I know college years are about, among other things, school rivalries. Surly no university wants to be out done by Kent State on the issue of supporting justice. From Harvard to Berkley, I ask others to follow the lead of Marta, Jason and their friends at Kent State.

Tomorrow, when I wake, who knows. Maybe I'll have a new Friend from Yale.

Please hurry, equality is at stake.  Also, I'd love to eat a piece of cheese.

California, here I come?

Now gay marriage is legal in California. And, though New York state does not have gay marriage, our governor, David Patterson has announced that out of state ceremonies will be recognized by the state.  Massachusetts, realizing how much revenue they stood to lose by not performing weddings for out-of-state gay couples, quickly changed their laws. And now they're more than happy to take all the queer cash that will come flooding into the state.

And so, gay and lesbian couples who live in New York state can now easily wed, in two of our fifty states. But should they? 

If you want to declare your love for each other in a formal way in front of your family and friends, by all means you should. As focused as I am on the rights associated with marriage, I understand there are couples who strongly desire the spiritual bond that comes with that ritual.

If one of the two members of the couple works for New York state and has a pension (like a firefighter, for example) probably you should get married tomorrow to secure the pension for your spouse. 

If, for you, getting married is its own form of protest, hurry up and tie the knot.

If, however, after getting the license and having the ceremony you are expecting to have your relationship recognized by the United States of America, you're going to have to wait to get married.

I was saddened to read that when next we take our U.S. survey, gay & lesbian couples who have legally wed in CA, MA or Canada and who check the box "Married" when filling their forms, will have the answer changed to living together/partnered. The reason being that, because of DOMA, checking the married box is a lie in the eyes of our government. No matter what you say, Uncle Sam says, "No way. Sorry. You aren't married."

We have no money for health care, education or the arts in this country, but, apparently, we do have enough money to pay some guy to cross out married and write in partnered on census forms. That's someone's job!

So when people ask me why I'm boycotting weddings when I can so easily get married in California, I explain how thrilled I am that California has taken this step toward equality. How delighted I am for the couples who have chosen to wed. And I tell them that, for my partner and me, it's not enough. We want all the rights and recognitions afforded straight couples. Assuming the federal government doesn't burn through all of social security paying the census guys to re-write the forms of homos, I'd like to know my partner and I will receive each other's benefits, inherit each other's estates without being taxed and the 1300 other things we're denied as a gay couple. 

Perhaps marriage shouldn't be about money. But the fact is that denying gays federal marriage is a very effective way to keeps us, as a group, economically disadvantaged. And money and progress go together. When African American's stopped getting on the bus, things began to change.

Just as Massachusetts began allowing out-of-state gays to wed when they realized how much money they were going to lose to California, pressure on the federal government to recognize same-sex marriage will come from the one hundred billion dollar wedding industry when they realize that five or ten or twenty percent of their income has stopped because people of conscience have ceased participating the marriage economy.

When federal law changes, who knows, California might be a lovely spot for a ceremony.

Both Sending and feeling regrets

I can't begin to tell you what a snap it is to skip weddings when no one's inviting you to any. 

How I thought about the day when an invitation would finally come. It would be from my father's third cousin-once removed, who, though present at my christening, had been absent from my life since.  Sorry, no can do, I'd write on my response card. I'm Gay, I don't attend weddings. And then, after having taken the moral high ground with a complete stranger I could forget about this political position of mine.

And then the day arrived when an invitation came--not from my hoped for stranger. But from one of my closest friends. I'll call her Davy, since that's her real name. Davy's not my oldest friend, but she was one of the first people that my partner, Marcus, and I met together. She was the first friend to be given the label "Our Friend". And now "Our Friend" was getting married.

"Maybe we should make an exception." Marcus said it, though I was thinking it as well. But there was no need to make an exception. Davy was aware of our stance before she even had a boyfriend. This was all going to be fine.

Except then suddenly it wasn't. 

We kept suggesting that maybe we'd come. If not to the wedding, well... We briefly toyed with a let's-just-go-to-the-rehearsal-dinner loophole. We were wishy-washy and filled with doubts. Because, after all, what is the impact of a two person wedding boycott? And this person whose event we're boycotting is a beloved, she is not a third cousin (once removed).

And so we stalled. We stammered. We avoided. And then one night over dinner I just blurted out, "We're not coming." It was a horribly awkward moment, but Davy assured us she understood.

A week or so later, Marcus and I hosted a screening of our (she used to be just mine when I was single) friend, Jennifer Westfeldt's film Ira and Abby.  In the film, the characters marry and divorce multiple times. After the movie was over, Davy asked me how I could be so supportive of a film about marriage. She was clearly hurt. I had no idea what to say. I worried our friendship would be irreparably damaged.

In the weeks that followed we had several talks. I tried to explain what I was trying to accomplish by not going. This was difficult, because I wasn't really sure what I wanted to accomplish. I just knew the ache I felt inside. My own longing to be wed. My desire for change.

The week of the wedding Davy said she was having a pre-wedding, pre-rehearsal, cocktail party. Davy was originally from LA and she was marrying a French man, so there were lots of out-of-towners in Manhattan. As a result she was hosting events all week long.

We decided to go for drinks. It wasn't the wedding. But it was a way to be supportive. When we arrived, Davy hugged me, we both got a little emotional. I knew everything was fine with us. I felt she was really okay with the choice we'd made. I didn't understand what had caused the shift. But I was relieved.

At the party, I chatted with a woman who I had come to know through Davy. As we parted to move on to other conversations she said, "See you Saturday."

"No. I won't be there."

She laughed. Slapped my arm, playfully. "Yeah, right. See you Saturday."

As we were about to leave, I saw a woman I did not know pushing her way through the crowd to speak to us. It was Davy's father's girlfriend we quickly learned--a television writer and producer from LA. She introduced herself and said, "I just want you to know that I totally support what you're doing We were all talking about this last night at dinner.  My writing partner is gay. He's my dear friend. We bought burial plots together, that's how close we are..."

She said more lovely things, but I can't recall them because I kept thinking it's the first family dinner of the wedding week and every one is talking about two gay guys not going to the wedding. I imagined the various opinions--pro and con. And in an instant I knew I had made the right choice.

All this conversation took place. This debating. This anger. This understanding. All of this thought was happening about this subject, because I wasn't going. None of it would have happened if I'd just gone.

Later I learned from mutual friends who had been there, that the conversation continued at the reception. As more friends inquired as to our absence. 

I believe those conversations are vital. And I believe they only happen when with all respect I very sadly send my regrets.

How this all began

I am the most reluctant of activists. My high school photo was not actually captioned 'Least Likely to Start a Movement'. But that's only because it had no caption at all. I wasn't really a joiner. Or a ring leader. Not a trouble maker. I was a go-with-the-flow guy.

But something happened to me. Slowly. Over time. I'd have a discontented feeling that I'd squash. An unpopular opinion I would not share. And then, all at once I could no longer do what was expected of me. I had to voice my dissent. 

And this moment came while watching Oprah. 

And not one of those Oprah young girls sold into prostitution shows. No. It was a sweet, fantasy wedding episode. I watched a beautiful wedding ceremony. And as I watched, I began to cry. First just a few tears. Then I began to wail violently. I couldn't catch my breath. I've never had a nervous breakdown. But it occurred to me that my exaggerated response to the televised nuptials of complete strangers might in fact  constitute some kind of emotional collapse. I wept straight through the commercial break.

When the show resumed, Oprah was back in her studio sitting with the wedding planner. To me, he seemed pretty gay. And all at once, I understood my tears. I was watching an event that I felt that I, as a gay man, would never be allowed to have. I wondered how conflicting it must be for that wedding planner to dedicate his life to creating events he was forbidden by Federal law from participating in. Then I thought about the whole wedding industry. the florists, organists, dress designers, cater-waiters. What would happen if gay people stopped working in the wedding industry? Straight people wouldn't be able to get married.

Well, of course they would. But the events wouldn't be nearly as fabulous.

Around this time I had attended four weddings in three months. One a gay couple in Holland, was unbelievable. Two gay men legally wed. The other three were straight couples in the USA. These three ceremonies were rough for me. I was happy for my American friends. But the events themselves were really painful. I attended with my partner. We had been together  longer than any of these married couples had been together. I kept wondering if any of the newlyweds would give us special thanks for attending what was obviously a difficult event. Some special praise for attending the segregated event that bans us.  But no thanks were offered.

Soon after, we decided to stop attending weddings and we don't give gifts. I refuse to participate in the wedding economy in anyway until all Americans have equal federal marriage rights. My partner and I are encouraging everyone to join us.  

I'll be back soon to write about what happened the first time we declined a wedding invitation for moral reasons.