Sanctuary

I saw this image while walking along the East Side Gallery in Berlin, a one kilometer walkway of the remaining wall along the river which is covered with more than 100 murals from international artists. These two men are meant to be prominent politicians of differing values.

Though this image is in itself powerful, what I find most striking is the word "sanctuary." I thought of this picture again today while listening to news reports on the latest Prop 8 hearings. I wonder when the United States will actually function as the sanctuary it claims so wholeheartedly to be.

Shelly and Ellen

Meet Shelly and Ellen. They have been together more than 30 years. This morning we spotted a photo of them in the middle of Newsweek magazine, taken last week when Judge Walker ruled that Proposition 8 was unconstitutional. You'll see that in this

KALW story

there is yet another photo of Shelly and Ellen.

There's also

this famous photo

, taken that day nearly two years ago when California passed Proposition 8, the controversial ban on gay marriage. Then there's

this one

, taken this past January when the proposition itself went on trial in San Francisco. And

this photo

is perhaps the most poignant: taken back in May 2008 when, for the second brief period in history, gay marriage was a reality in California.

I know Shelly and Ellen. They are longtime residents of my hometown, and have been active in local politics for many years. My parents are good friends with them and share many of their social and political opinions. I've come to realize lately that these women epitomize what should be real celebrity: people who represent an idea, who aren't afraid to react, and who return, time and again, to the values they hold true.

Last week I heard a

lively interview

featuring the plaintiffs of Prop 8, Kristin Perry and her partner Sandy Stier, as well as Jordan Lorence, senior counsel and senior vice president in the Office of Strategic Initiatives at the Alliance Defense Fund. I was listening in the car with my boyfriend as we explored the strawberry fields of central California. It struck me then that here we were witnessing a historic precedent.

This is the civil rights issue of our generation. Racism and sexism are still prevalent but homophobia and its social implications have become the Jim Crow laws of the early twenty-first century. Propositions, trials, marriages and government-regulated "annulments" are our looong way of walking around a fairly simple point: marriage is a civil right that should be granted to consenting adults of any gender. And as absurd as this system sometimes all seems, it is at its heart a democratic process: chock full of bureaucracy, but democratic to the end.

I just hope that, by the time this case gets completely resolved, we as a country can recognize that same-sex marriage is tantamount to interracial or interfaith marriage, all unions that are equally sound. And when that day comes, maybe Shelly and Ellen will be on the cover of Time magazine.

Prop 8: The New Scopes Monkey Trial?

Dan Walters’ January 31st editorial in the Sacramento Bee (“California gay marriages may hinge on one man”) about the ongoing Proposition 8 trial explains how this is quickly becoming more of a “sociological and philosophical debate than a traditional evidentiary hearing.” Living in San Francisco, it is hard to avoid the daily updates about arguments both for and against the legalization of gay marriage. Walters argues that in the end, presenting this controversial topic in a federal trial means leaving a big decision up to one judge’s (Justice Anthony Kennedy) personal judgment.

I have long been interested in the legal process, and that fine line between moral or sociological opinion and the objective interpretation of the law. Just how do judges protect themselves, as well as the plaintiffs and the general public, from their own private biases? Surely, these concerns are paramount in any trial, but the cultural significance of Proposition 8 seems to raise the stakes. Regardless of how Kennedy rules, the justice will set a precedent in terms of our societal definition of marriage.

Walters worries that Kennedy’s conservative background might preclude him from hearing both sides objectively, and so do I. I’d like to raise children in a world where such personal matters as sexual orientation or who someone chooses to marry are not subjects of public debate. It’d be great if the result of all this media hype and heartbreaking personal testimonies is simply a way to honor a transition from one policy to another, and nothing else. I’d like, in five or ten years’ time, to see the Prop 8 trial as my generation’s cousin to the Scopes Monkey Trial or the Civil Rights Act. It is both amazing and terrifying to realize that American culture might very well be on the cusp of a paradigm shift, and one ruling is what stands between a dated ballot measure and a cultural revolution. Well, one ruling, which depends entirely on one justice, a few lawyers, dozens of testimonials, petitions, and protests on both sides—but ultimately, it all comes down to how well they convince Justice Kennedy.

Why is this interesting? This is interesting because this summer, the first of my close childhood friends is getting “married”—to her girlfriend. Note the quotation marks. This is interesting because gays and lesbians have already won and lost the opportunity to marry in California—twice—and marriage as an institution hasn’t failed. This is interesting because, given enough time, granting civil liberties to gays and lesbians will affect us all: gay, straight, man, woman, old, young, liberal, conservative. Statistically speaking, we’ll all have a sister or a brother or an uncle or an aunt or a friend or a mentor or a neighbor who will be directly affected by this ruling, if we can’t identify them already.

I am excited to live n an age where topics that were considered “taboo” for many years are now being paid the attention they deserve; I just hope that the result is positive change.

Prop 8: The Musical

See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die

This is amazing.

On Morality, of Sorts

On Saturday, November 15, my roommates and I biked down to the San Francisco City Hall to Join the Impact against Proposition 8. We arrived around noon, two hours after the rally had begun in 80 cities around the United States, and the lawn before the Civic Center was crowded with thousands of protesters. We wove through recently-married gay couples wearing wedding dresses and allies waving "another straight against h8te." There was nowhere to stand, so we wandered over to the Slow Food Victory Garden and perched atop hay bales. The sun beat down an almost impenetrable ray of civic justice, and yet the only speaker I could actually hear was a Baptist preacher. His voice had that hearty, scratchy pitch of someone who is accustomed to raising it high enough to be heard. He referenced the beginning of his education in civil rights at the death of Emmett Till, and argued that Christian fundamentalists and Evangelicals do not understand the hypocrisy of their "moral" argument.

My adolescence was highlighted by the infamous decisions of unfortunate politicians, whether it was George Bush Sr. throwing up in Japan, Clinton getting impeached for an immaturity not worthy of the Oval Office, or the various embarrassments and tragedies that have been the Dubya administration. And now, finally, the change I am witnessing has the potential to make our lives better.

Thus, the pots and pans of November 4, 2008.

And yet, the civil rights movement is not over, nor will it ever be. The perception of homosexuality and all non-heterosexual communities has evolved at an almost incredible rate during my lifetime. I will never forget how the word "gay" was such an accepted insult when I was in junior high, or how risky it felt to join a Gay-Straight Alliance in high school. I'm straight, and yet I still feel the intensity of that association as a teenager.

Eight years later, it feels almost criminal not to be an ally. Being human is being human, regardless of where we're from, what we look like, or who we love. I live in one of the "gayest" cities in the world, and instead of feeling threatened by the non-traditional or the unexpected, I'm more comfortable because of it.

Yesterday was a full day. After the protest, I met up with Laurel at the Green Festival downtown, an indoor sustainability fair with a seemingly endless supply of free samples. In the evening, we headed down to the Box Theatre in Potrero Hill to see a dance performance that benefited the Darfur Women's Center. I forgot how effective nonverbal communication can be sometimes. It was an evening of expression, and the movements of last night, combined with the images of the protest and the festival, have slid through the microfilm of my mind all day. Politics and art have been chewing away at my brain these days, and for the first time in a long time, they are a source of inspiration.

Thank goodness.