Authors: Fay Jacobs
Time Fries! (23 page)
Overheard at Legislative Hall in Dover: “I don't get this marriage thing. We just gave them civil unions.”
THEM? What am I a space alien? A creature from the Rehoboth lagoon? An undocumented worker from Mars? It's humiliating to be described as “them.”
And just like all of the minority groups who have come before us and who will surely come after us, I'm sick of having neighbors think of us as THEM. OTHER. LESS THAN. UNEQUAL. SECOND CLASS.
I'm passionately, angrily, tiredly but hopefully done being THEM.
By the time you read this, lots of LGBT folks in Rehoboth and the surrounding communities will have traveled to Dover once again, this time before a state Senate committee, to plead for the right to be treated equally under Delaware law.
And to answer that snooty, attitudinal, bigoted woman at the State House, I say this, “While you grudgingly gave us civil unions, we were happy for that step. It truly did make us financially equal to married couples in Delaware, but it did not go far enough.”
Here is how I had the privilege of testifying and describing the situation to the Delaware House of Representatives in Dover a few weeks ago:
“My partner and I have been together over 31 years. As young women, we bought a house, paid taxes, welcomed pets to our family, encouraged each other in our careers, spoiled our nieces and nephews, socialized with neighbors, managed our parents' health crises, turned middle aged, buried our first dog and cat, relocated to Delaware, weathered our own health crises, saved for retirement, said farewell to parents who saw us as married, adopted two new dogs, volunteered in our community, and just now became Medicare eligibleâall of this,
together.
We married first in Canada, when marriage equality there became legal. We married again last year, with a big fat Jewish Wedding, recognized as marriage by our religious institution, but only as a civil union in Delaware. So neither ceremony gave us what we need mostâa legally recognized marriage equal to our heterosexually married neighbors.
Now, we're retirees and sadly, just lost our remaining 15-year old Schnauzer. The dogs have been a benchmark for our 31 years. We urge the state to end our long run as lesser citizens with a second class term for our relationship. We need Delaware to pass the marriage equality bill so when the Defense of Marriage Act falls, whenever that may be, we will have the one thing we need, a legal marriage, to qualify for Federal equal rights and benefits.
At the moment we're debating whether we're too old for a puppy. Our run with unequal rights has gone on long enough. Please be on the right side of history, and grant all Delaware citizens marriage equality. And we'll let you know what we decide about the puppy. Thank you.”
Yes, I got a laugh on the line about the puppy. But it's all too true and too important to be a laughing matter anymore. Frankly, the idea of equality was so foreign to us in the 1970s and 80s as we marched for visibility and protection from discrimination. Sure, we had a hell of a lot of laughs at those grand events. “âWe're here, we're queer, get used to it” we chanted. We had our dykes on bikes, our brave drag queens, our military heroes coming out.
So too, was it exuberant, joyous and important to march in 1990's Pride parades and fight for the right of gay people to serve in the military. Skirmishing for small victories and safe communities was always fun because we came together as a fun-loving, determined community working to build a bridge to the majority; to
C
reate
A M
ore
P
ositive Rehoboth (the CAMP acronym) and also a more positive world.
But I woke up today,
Letters
deadline looming and realized
that for all the marching, advocacy, fund-raising, letter writing, speech-giving and emotional investment, to lots of Delawareans we are still THEM.
The vote for full marriage equality in the Delaware House was victorious. Our House of Delegates, led by Speaker of the House Pete Schwartzkopf voted in favor of marriage equality. It was a historic and delicious victory.
But now the vote goes to the Senate, which is not a sure thing. We need 11 YES votes in the Senate. And the difference between full marriage equality and the painful continuation of unequal status for those some call THEM could rest on the senator from our own Sussex County district. This senator has the privilege of representing LGBT constituents in literally hundreds of same-sex households. Will he vote for our equality or to keep us as second class citizens? Will we stay in the THEM column? It may just be up to our own state senator.
Frankly, these THEM are sick of living in sin. We want to be declared legally wed in Delaware. That's a much better environment in which to raise a puppy.
For me, it was the gavel heard âround my world.
As I write this, I am still not certain exactly how to describe the events and emotions of Tuesday, May 7, at Legislative Hall in Dover, Delaware. That was the almost-unbelievable day when the Marriage Equality Bill, HB 75, already passed in the Delaware House of Representatives, passed in the Delaware Senate, making same-gender marriage the law in Delaware.
Yes, it's state law, not yet federal, but I never thought I'd see even this much in my lifetime, and I am still giddy from the wonderful shock.
On the day of the vote I was in Senator Karen Peterson's small office at Legislative Hall listening to the proceedings on a squawk box. I'd arrived from teaching a class too late to get a gallery seat. Equality Delaware President Lisa Goodman spied me loitering in the lobby and escorted me to the senator's office. There, I joined several Equality Delaware volunteers and Stonewall Democrats as Lisa rushed back to the Senate floor, where she, attorney Mark Purpura, and Senator David Sokola, among others, started the day's business of making history.
For three long hours I sat in the senator's office, listening to the encouraging testimony of marriage equality proponents alternating with the disheartening, infuriating, and often ignorant testimony of the “No Genderless Marriage” team. I squirmed in my chair, listening to their irrational fears and mostly irrelevant arguments, nervous about the upcoming vote and seemingly struck by restless body syndrome. Would all the senators who'd promised YES votes show up? We needed 11 YEAs from the 21 senators. What was about to happen? I fidgeted and fidgeted some more.
While Dixiecrat Democratic Senator Venables droned on about the perils of gay marriage, we learned one of the
promised YEAs was missing. “Find him!” came a cry in the hallway, a fellow senator rushing to action.
Bible verse after Bible verse came over the speaker as angry, fearful people testified to their worry that children would be taught gay marriage is, gasp, normal! And what about florists who don't want to provide arrangements for gay weddings? Or photographers who don't want to snap pix of gay people?
Senators and Equality Delaware lawyers happily let everyone know that since 2009 there has been a law on the books forbidding discrimination against gay people by the likes of florists, photographers, and any other business accommodating the public. And guess what? There's been hardly a complaint or a problem since. Another irrational argument trounced.
By this time the missing YES voter was in the chamber and warm, rational words continued to alternate with demeaning, hurtful and just plain stupid ones.
An amazing exchange occurred when Senator Peterson herself answered a question that was both foolish and denigrating to gay people. In a surprise moment, the senator flung open her own closet door in an emotional speech about her 24-year relationship with her partner, saying, “Neither I nor my partner chose to be gay any more than heterosexuals chose to be straight. If my happiness somehow demeans or diminishes your marriage then you need to work on your marriage.” It was a jaw-dropping, applause-invoking moment in the chamber and an eye-popping, “Did she just come out???” moment right there in Senator Karen Peterson's office.
When the seemingly endless ugly testimony finally stopped, I could feel tension wash over the room as if one of our famous coastal fogs had just rolled in. A young Equality Delaware staffer leaned on Senator Peterson's desk and, as the roll was called, checked off names with Yea or Nay. Along the way, we had a surprise YES from Senator Bethany Hall-Long of Middletown, and by vote's end there were 12 in favor, 9 against.
When the Senate president announced the passage of HB75 there was a stunned silence and a collective intake of breath as our small group then broke into cheers and applause. One second later, the din delayed by distance, we heard the thunderous cheers, whoops and hollers from the Senate chamber and gallery.
“We're all supposed to go to the Governor's office,” announced the young staffer. “He's going to sign the bill right now.”
Because of where we had been holed up, we hit the grand staircase in the building before most people and practically ran up to the Governor's office. My knees were jelly, and elated butterflies danced in my stomach. This was really happening! In Delaware!
Bonnie and I had just arrived at the outer office door when a grinning Governor Jack Markell came through itâand we were among the first people the governor hugged and congratulated.
It brought me right back to years ago when then-state comptroller Markell spoke up early and often, at his own political peril, for our cause; when Speaker Schwartzkopf first ran for election as an underdog in our district and he bravely made the decision to fight aggressively for our rights; to when Steve and Murray first started CAMP Rehoboth, fighting for simple safety and respect for LGBT residents. Look how far we've come thanks to all our political allies, tireless activists and incessant advocates.
For me, it was a stunning moment, and thrilling as this transplanted New Yorker realized she lived in such a small state that the governor was able to call out “Fay! Bonnie! Congratulations!”
With more than 200 marriage equality supporters standing on the grand staircase and around the balcony on the second floor, we heard a smiling Governor Markell tell us, “I do not intend to make any of you wait one moment longer. Delaware should be, is and will be a welcoming place to live and love
and to raise a family for all who call our great state home.”
I stood with my wife on the state house staircase and knew that Delaware considered our marriage truly equal to all others.
And with that, a small table was placed on the staircase landing so the governor could stand amid many of the senators who voted yes, the activists from Equality Delaware, and other marriage equality supporters and sign the bill that had passed only a few minutes before.
I'm still having trouble believing it. As you know, I've always adored my hometown of Rehoboth Beach for its embrace of its gay residents and visitors. But now the whole state, tiny as it may be, is onboard with our civil rights. Pretty darn amazing.