I appreciate Mollie creating this forum for discussion and reflection and wanted to share my thoughts on this difficult but important issue. Since not everyone who knows Mollie knows me, let me start by saying that I was also raised in a Mormon family and have continued to be active in the LDS church as an adult. While I often find myself at odds with the political and cultural views of the majority of church members, I have a strong connection to the faith and appreciate the positive impact it has had on my life. I also have a strong connection to social justice and the positive impact it has had on my life.
I do see this as an issue of social justice. And as our society evolves, I firmly believe that we will look back on the time when same-sex couples were not allowed to marry with the same shame and outrage that we feel when we look back at a time (not so long ago) when interracial couples were not allowed to marry.
Ironically, it is my Mormon heritage that has in large part contributed to my belief that people should be allowed to define marriage for themselves. I grew up hearing stories of how members of the Mormon church were persecuted back in the 1800s for making their own choices about marriage. In that case, it was because the Mormon church chose to define marriage as a relationship between a man and more than one woman. And Mormons experienced the pain of having a government try to keep them from living in a way that they believed was right. That belief eventually changed, and as most people know the Mormon church no longer endorses the practice of polygamy. But it was a painful time that caused many Mormon polygamists to have to live in secret or even leave the country so that they could live with their families in the way that they chose. My own grandfather was born in Mexico so that his parents could maintain their family and plural marriages.
This heritage of defining marriage, at least for a period of time, in a way not accepted by mainstream conservative America is one of the reasons why the active stance on Proposition 8 by members of the LDS church is so deeply troubling to me. And I am not alone - this is an issue that has really divided the church, and I think it is important that people know that.
Our unique history aside, I also believe that as Christians we should be showing charity towards all people – seeking to understand and serve others with compassion and love. It seems to me that the resources spent on trying to pass this proposition could have been spent in more charitable ways. We all have so much work to do to make this world a better place; I wish we were building bridges instead of barriers.
- Becca Bracy Knight
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Bigger Picture
As I said in my first post, I am worried. I am worried that people cannot see the bigger picture. It could easily be argued that this proposition is not about gay marriage at all. It's about democracy and human rights. If Prop 8 passes, we will have effectively eliminated the right of a minority group to enjoy a freedom that is enjoyed by the vast majority of the population. And if we can eliminate the civil rights of one minority, who's to say who's next? I truly believe that no matter what you think about gay marriage, you should be worried that instead of expanding rights, we are eliminating them. It's a dangerous precedent to write discrimination into the constitution (state or federal). The role of a democracy is to protect the minority from the majority.
"History is replete with examples of advances in civil rights that would not have been tolerated had they been put to a popular vote," wrote Kathleen O'Connor, president of the Women's Bar Association, about the petition by 170,000 Massachusetts voters for a constitutional amendment defining marriage. Brown vs. Board of Education is one that comes to mind. It was a landmark decision that established that school segregation of black and white children was inherently unequal. This sounds so logical today, some 50 years later, but it was not what the popular majority favored at the time.
Martin Luther King wrote, "It is an historical fact that privileged groups rarely give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture, but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals” For this reason civil rights have historically been ensured first by the courts, and only later accepted by society at large. The courts’ mission, to make sure that constitutions are upheld, is different from that of the Legislature, which must, as an elected body, reflect the popular view. (These last two sentences were taken from a letter to the editor published in the Hampshire Gazette in December 2003).
So do four judges (whose appointments are approved every year by the voters in the state of CA) have the right to decide that outlawing same-sex marriage is a violation of civil rights? Absolutely. Just because the the popular majority thinks something is right doesn't make it so.
"History is replete with examples of advances in civil rights that would not have been tolerated had they been put to a popular vote," wrote Kathleen O'Connor, president of the Women's Bar Association, about the petition by 170,000 Massachusetts voters for a constitutional amendment defining marriage. Brown vs. Board of Education is one that comes to mind. It was a landmark decision that established that school segregation of black and white children was inherently unequal. This sounds so logical today, some 50 years later, but it was not what the popular majority favored at the time.
Martin Luther King wrote, "It is an historical fact that privileged groups rarely give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture, but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals” For this reason civil rights have historically been ensured first by the courts, and only later accepted by society at large. The courts’ mission, to make sure that constitutions are upheld, is different from that of the Legislature, which must, as an elected body, reflect the popular view. (These last two sentences were taken from a letter to the editor published in the Hampshire Gazette in December 2003).
So do four judges (whose appointments are approved every year by the voters in the state of CA) have the right to decide that outlawing same-sex marriage is a violation of civil rights? Absolutely. Just because the the popular majority thinks something is right doesn't make it so.
A Matter of Conscience
In matters of conscience, the law of majority has no place. -- Mahatma Gandhi
I am glad I have a conscience. If I didn't, I would be part of the 1% of the population considered psychopathic--someone with no heart, no remorse and no conscience. It is a little scary to think there are that many conscience-less people running around in the world. But anyway...
It is my conscience that compels me to write this. The movement to deny same-sex couples the right to marry weighs heavy on my mind and heart. There is little over a week until the residents of the state of California will vote on Prop 8 and decide whether or not "only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California."
I am worried. I am worried that people cannot see that on some level, this proposition is not about gay marriage at all. It's so much bigger than that. If Prop 8 passes, we will have effectively eliminated the right of a minority group to enjoy a freedom that is enjoyed by the vast majority of the population. And if we can eliminate the rights of one minority, who's to say who's next? But more about that later.
If you know me you know that I am straight. So you might be wondering why a straight girl like me feels so compelled to speak out on this issue. Here's a little context. I was raised in a conservative, mormon family. My parents are both raging republicans. If it weren't for my friends, I am pretty sure they'd never have known an openly gay person. It's not their fault, really. It's just par for their generation and the kind of upbringing they had. But despite their religious and political leanings, they managed to raise three very liberal daughters (much to their chagrin, I think). My dad was raised in a small town in rural Oklahoma. Anadarko, self-titled, "Indian Capital of the Nation," is home to the Bureau of Indian Affairs office. My dad witnessed firsthand some of the injustices and hostility against native Americans. And as a result, he grew up always being a champion of the underdog. He has a huge heart, and it crushed him to see his friends suffer injustices because of the color of their skin. I remember as a girl when I'd walk in on him watching a sports game on TV. In some cases, I knew who he was cheering for (Oklahoma State, The Dallas Cowboys), but sometimes the teams were unrecognizable to me. When I'd ask him what team he wanted to win, he always replied, "we're cheering for the underdogs, Moll".
My mom, on the other hand, was raised with very little racial or religious diversity in Ogden, Utah. I don't know where exactly she came by it, but she always seemed to me more open minded and tolerant than other "mothers" I knew in our mormon ward. When I was 18, she gave me a book to read entitled, Goodbye, I Love You. The book is "the true story of a wife, her homosexual husband, and a love that transcended tragedy. Gerald Pearson had been honest with Carol Lynn about his homosexual past, but both of them had faith that marriage and devotion to their religion would change his orientation. Love would conquer all. Then, after eight years of apparent happiness and the birth of four children, Gerald was no longer able to deny what he considered to be his essential self. Carol Lynn was shattered, her self-esteem all but destroyed. Their divorce, however, could not erase a lifetime of love and mutual support. Carol Lynn courageously stood by her former husband's side. Even when he contracted AIDS - and came home to die."
That book changed me. I read it and re-read it. And as I did, I realized that the struggle with homosexuality was not a choice, as I had remembered hearing somewhere along the way. Rather, it was an intrinsic part of a person's identity. I could feel this man's pain coming through the pages with every word I read. There was no way he would choose that path. My heart was filled with compassion, and it wasn't too many years later that I had a chance to put that compassion into practice.
I'll spare the details, but over the course of the next decade, three dear friends, all of whom had been raised in devout mormon families and served missions for the mormon church, confided in me of their struggle with same-sex attraction. Their stories were not unlike Gerald Pearson's (except, fortunately, they had never married and had children). They were devastated and depressed and feeling isolated from the church that they loved so much. I didn't judge or counsel, I just listened. Their stories were powerful and touching and heartbreaking. And yet, they were telling their truth. This is not the life they had hoped for, but it was the path they had to follow, despite rejection by the church they loved and, in some cases, friends and family members.
Those three brave men changed me in ways I could never have imagined. Years later, I still considered them all among my closest friends. They are beautiful, happy, productive members of our society. And I fight this fight for them and with them. Someday soon I will sit, a huge smile on my face, and watch each of them marry the man they love. I can't wait.
I am glad I have a conscience. If I didn't, I would be part of the 1% of the population considered psychopathic--someone with no heart, no remorse and no conscience. It is a little scary to think there are that many conscience-less people running around in the world. But anyway...
It is my conscience that compels me to write this. The movement to deny same-sex couples the right to marry weighs heavy on my mind and heart. There is little over a week until the residents of the state of California will vote on Prop 8 and decide whether or not "only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California."
I am worried. I am worried that people cannot see that on some level, this proposition is not about gay marriage at all. It's so much bigger than that. If Prop 8 passes, we will have effectively eliminated the right of a minority group to enjoy a freedom that is enjoyed by the vast majority of the population. And if we can eliminate the rights of one minority, who's to say who's next? But more about that later.
If you know me you know that I am straight. So you might be wondering why a straight girl like me feels so compelled to speak out on this issue. Here's a little context. I was raised in a conservative, mormon family. My parents are both raging republicans. If it weren't for my friends, I am pretty sure they'd never have known an openly gay person. It's not their fault, really. It's just par for their generation and the kind of upbringing they had. But despite their religious and political leanings, they managed to raise three very liberal daughters (much to their chagrin, I think). My dad was raised in a small town in rural Oklahoma. Anadarko, self-titled, "Indian Capital of the Nation," is home to the Bureau of Indian Affairs office. My dad witnessed firsthand some of the injustices and hostility against native Americans. And as a result, he grew up always being a champion of the underdog. He has a huge heart, and it crushed him to see his friends suffer injustices because of the color of their skin. I remember as a girl when I'd walk in on him watching a sports game on TV. In some cases, I knew who he was cheering for (Oklahoma State, The Dallas Cowboys), but sometimes the teams were unrecognizable to me. When I'd ask him what team he wanted to win, he always replied, "we're cheering for the underdogs, Moll".
My mom, on the other hand, was raised with very little racial or religious diversity in Ogden, Utah. I don't know where exactly she came by it, but she always seemed to me more open minded and tolerant than other "mothers" I knew in our mormon ward. When I was 18, she gave me a book to read entitled, Goodbye, I Love You. The book is "the true story of a wife, her homosexual husband, and a love that transcended tragedy. Gerald Pearson had been honest with Carol Lynn about his homosexual past, but both of them had faith that marriage and devotion to their religion would change his orientation. Love would conquer all. Then, after eight years of apparent happiness and the birth of four children, Gerald was no longer able to deny what he considered to be his essential self. Carol Lynn was shattered, her self-esteem all but destroyed. Their divorce, however, could not erase a lifetime of love and mutual support. Carol Lynn courageously stood by her former husband's side. Even when he contracted AIDS - and came home to die."
That book changed me. I read it and re-read it. And as I did, I realized that the struggle with homosexuality was not a choice, as I had remembered hearing somewhere along the way. Rather, it was an intrinsic part of a person's identity. I could feel this man's pain coming through the pages with every word I read. There was no way he would choose that path. My heart was filled with compassion, and it wasn't too many years later that I had a chance to put that compassion into practice.
I'll spare the details, but over the course of the next decade, three dear friends, all of whom had been raised in devout mormon families and served missions for the mormon church, confided in me of their struggle with same-sex attraction. Their stories were not unlike Gerald Pearson's (except, fortunately, they had never married and had children). They were devastated and depressed and feeling isolated from the church that they loved so much. I didn't judge or counsel, I just listened. Their stories were powerful and touching and heartbreaking. And yet, they were telling their truth. This is not the life they had hoped for, but it was the path they had to follow, despite rejection by the church they loved and, in some cases, friends and family members.
Those three brave men changed me in ways I could never have imagined. Years later, I still considered them all among my closest friends. They are beautiful, happy, productive members of our society. And I fight this fight for them and with them. Someday soon I will sit, a huge smile on my face, and watch each of them marry the man they love. I can't wait.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
