More thoughts on marriage
Nov. 4th, 2004 11:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
judecorpLast night, I don't remember why exactly but I stood up from my computer desk, and Jen stood up from hers, and I found myself in an impromptu hug. And I suppose maybe some of it was spurred by the fact that we were both a little sad about all of the election day hey-hoo, but the hug turned into something closer, something more akin to providing comfort. And I stood there, with my nose nuzzled into the sweet skin of her neck and her hand softly stroking the nape of my neck. The warmth started in the pit of my stomach and made its way outward to all of my extremities, from the tips of my toes to the ends of each and every hair on my head.
We stood like that for several minutes and I remembered those days on the shore in Delaware when everything exploded into the magic upon which we built our foundation. I remembered and I smiled and I thought to myself, "There are people all over the country who don't feel this way, who don't know this power and haven't experienced this love." And at that moment I didn't want what the rest of the country had, because I know and have always known that the commitment of a lifetime is there in our hearts, that the promises have already been spoken and the contract has already been signed. And I don't want their words and their documents and their papers if what we have is more, greater, stronger, holier.
I know that so much of the way we love is wrapped up in the struggle. I know that so much of the strength that binds us is rooted in the fight against injustice and ignorance. I know that our union holds so much might because there is power when the oppressed unite. I hold that struggle like a badge of honor and perhaps I hold onto it too strongly. Perhaps I can't envision a world without struggle because it feeds me. With every kiss, every glance, every fervent tumble under heated bedcovers it is there.
We exchanged rings in the middle of our living room last October, on the couch, cats as witnesses. We exchanged rings and held onto the struggle, offered it to one another in silent pledges. There is no single ceremony more intense or important than that fire in my belly. There is no amendment or law that can take it from me just as certainly as there is no document or legislation that can give me more. This is everything and I don't need anything else.
It's really too bad that marriage is more than that power, that union, that binding. It's too bad that the meat and potatoes of marriage are the benefits, the privileges, the assumptions, and the allowances. Perhaps people across the country are worried and/or threatened that my fire taints their fire; that since my passion is as strong as or stronger than theirs they are somehow afflicted with my 'sin' by relation. But I don't see how my access of legal protections in any way taints or disregards theirs.
We often hear those people who state with sincerity that they may not agree with a particular message but they will undoubtedly fight for an individual's right to say it. And even if you may not agree with the inner workings of my particular heart, can't you fight for my individual right to express it? Isn't that what this big, great, wide-open country was all about?
We stood like that for several minutes and I remembered those days on the shore in Delaware when everything exploded into the magic upon which we built our foundation. I remembered and I smiled and I thought to myself, "There are people all over the country who don't feel this way, who don't know this power and haven't experienced this love." And at that moment I didn't want what the rest of the country had, because I know and have always known that the commitment of a lifetime is there in our hearts, that the promises have already been spoken and the contract has already been signed. And I don't want their words and their documents and their papers if what we have is more, greater, stronger, holier.
I know that so much of the way we love is wrapped up in the struggle. I know that so much of the strength that binds us is rooted in the fight against injustice and ignorance. I know that our union holds so much might because there is power when the oppressed unite. I hold that struggle like a badge of honor and perhaps I hold onto it too strongly. Perhaps I can't envision a world without struggle because it feeds me. With every kiss, every glance, every fervent tumble under heated bedcovers it is there.
We exchanged rings in the middle of our living room last October, on the couch, cats as witnesses. We exchanged rings and held onto the struggle, offered it to one another in silent pledges. There is no single ceremony more intense or important than that fire in my belly. There is no amendment or law that can take it from me just as certainly as there is no document or legislation that can give me more. This is everything and I don't need anything else.
It's really too bad that marriage is more than that power, that union, that binding. It's too bad that the meat and potatoes of marriage are the benefits, the privileges, the assumptions, and the allowances. Perhaps people across the country are worried and/or threatened that my fire taints their fire; that since my passion is as strong as or stronger than theirs they are somehow afflicted with my 'sin' by relation. But I don't see how my access of legal protections in any way taints or disregards theirs.
We often hear those people who state with sincerity that they may not agree with a particular message but they will undoubtedly fight for an individual's right to say it. And even if you may not agree with the inner workings of my particular heart, can't you fight for my individual right to express it? Isn't that what this big, great, wide-open country was all about?
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-05 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-05 05:27 am (UTC)it's a shame that the benefits are tied to that religious concept of marriage...if only every couple (no matter the genders involved) had to get a "civil union" and then "marriage" was a religious choice. that, i think, would be better. the fundies wouldn't rise up in anger and rights would be where they should be: with the people. all of the people.
but who says politics are rational?
no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 02:16 am (UTC)And I would be all for legal civil unions for all, with the word (and sacrament) of marriage held aside for religious ceremonies. But then there would be other things to bitch about - like one religion defining marriage one way (like one-man-one-woman) and another religion defining it another way. And then some religions would complain that other religions were undermining the sanctity of marriage.
What it boils down to, regardless of language, is that a select few want to define an institution for an entire world. And this select few is not only extremely vocal, they also tend to be quite wealthy. Honestly, I don't think this issue is going away any time soon, nor do I think a change of language will provide a solution.
And as long as one word ('marriage') is the word used globally, equality requires ALL parties to share the term.
see, this is why I love you
Date: 2004-11-05 01:08 pm (UTC)You just did.
Thank you!
Re: see, this is why I love you
Date: 2004-11-08 02:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-05 01:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 02:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-05 01:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 02:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-05 02:38 pm (UTC)No, unfortunately. At least in my opinion; I don't mean to attack you. That may be the spirit in which most of us live, but those in power are opposed to it even while mouthing that rhetoric. That's all it is to them. If you can convince people that you're on their side, it's much easier to oppress them.
I was astounded at how many people voted for the ban. I take it as a measure of the extent to which their propaganda has succeeded. If you can convince one oppressed people (say, poor Southern whites) that they should be opposed to another (say, queer people), you've done a really good job of undermining any opposition to yourself. Only with real solidarity can anyone hope to fight them.
just my thoughts.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 02:11 am (UTC)Also, as an aside, I'm not sure that the "real solidarity" you speak of can really exist. We're humans - a flawed people. Our kind is plagued with inherent feelings of inadequacy and competition. Sure, it's possible in smaller numbers to really, truly band together for communal living, but once the numbers grow unmanageable, out of sight, we lose focus. We're taught to be bigger, better, faster, smarter... and then we grow older, and find it's not quite so easy or simplistic to simply try hard and achieve. Because we'd prefer not to balk against the beliefs of our upbringing, we seek other answers - excuses and scapegoats.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 04:08 pm (UTC)After reading Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States, I'm less sure of that. It seems to me entirely possible the the ideals of the American Revolution, while believed in by most people then and now, were a lie to the people in power. Poor people have always fought the wars of the rich, and they have seldom got any recompense from it. The Revolution was no different. If you can convince people that you're on their side, and that you want equality, maybe they'll never notice that you are more equal than they, somehow, and that they are still dying for you, never the other way around.
...but once the numbers grow unmanageable, out of sight, we lose focus.
Which is why, of course, you could never have an anarchist nation-state, why Communism never leads to a stateless utopia. It's too big. I believe that small numbers of all kinds of people can band together in, say, neighborhood associations, and thus govern themselves. *Truly* govern themselves, by consensus and direct democracy rather than representatives. It would take, say, a million of those for what is now the United States.