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It still hurts. Days after the vote on Prop. 8, it is still sinking in that my fellow Californians singled me out, officially and legally, cementing my inequality in the constitution, letting me know I’m less than they are, not entitled to the same rights or same pursuit of happiness.
This is personal. It’s almost unbearable to reflect on the density of hatred that must have motivated those who initiated, supported and voted for this abomination and injustice. The result was not completely unexpected; and yet, there was no way to brace emotionally for its impact until it won by a narrow margin.
Now that it has exploded in all our faces, the toxic odor of intolerance is hard to ignore. Unless you convince me otherwise, you might be my foe. How can I not ask myself how you voted when I see you in the supermarket or at the mailbox? How can
I know if the friendliness you display just covers up deep resentments and bigotry you are too polite to express but were not hesitant to vote and thus rule my life by?
For any stranger I see, there’s a 50-50 chance that they anonymously declared me their inferior in the voting booth. How can I not be filled with rage and distrust? Where are the defenders of individual freedom and liberty now? The bullhorns remain strangely quiet when the bullies are half the voting population. Blaming the victim carries less risk.
History teaches that it is not a good place to be a picked-on minority in times of war and economic crisis. For the first time since I moved to California decades ago, it doesn’t feel like California to me. I can deal with earthquakes and fires; but this hatred, the negligent or defiant ignorance of those who fraudulently carry Christ on their banner, stops me cold in disbelief.
The propaganda that radiated from the Mormon, Roman Catholic and Evangelical pulpits had the intended effect; and my anger over what happened is hard to control.
We are angry and disappointed to the bone.
I’ve received e-mails from outraged friends with lists of Prop. 8 donors, individuals and businesses, all public record. What are they asking? Intimidate those back who intimidate us? An eye for an eye? Tempting, after these churches and their followers took the Sermon on the Mount off-line and turned California into a state of separation.
It won’t make me feel any better, but I know who’s not cleaning my carpets again. I am struggling not to let my disappointment and anger turn into hate; but it’s not easy, as you may be able to tell.
Like every minority, we gays and lesbians have our quirks and shortcomings. It is flabbergasting to be attacked because some of us have been lucky enough to find someone to love and to whom we can make a caring, lifelong commitment. If you are so opposed to gay marriage, don’t go to the wedding. Mind your own business! Do you so desperately need someone to look down on, someone whose love for another must be inferior to what’s in your life?
You have told those 90 or so couples who were married in Nevada County this summer that, though they may be good enough for each other, they are not good enough for your approval; and, without your approval, they must not get married. How can you be so arrogant to believe that you are the arbiter of the absolute truth by which others should live?
The wicked witch was not invited to the wedding, and now we’re all cursed. In the old version of that tale, the good fairy came and fixed it after 100 years. We must and can do better. During the last 100 years in history, women gained the right to vote, interracial marriages became legal, homosexuality was no longer a reason to get locked up in an institution, and a black man who can jokingly call himself a mutt has been elected president of the United States and acknowledged gays and lesbians in his acceptance speech.
Time does not stand still and zero growth is not an option for the human spirit. In your heart, you know what to do and where to start. But waste no time. Smiles are wearing thin and not much good can come from needlessly inflicting pain on
others.
This fairy and drama queen will wear a pink triangle until the California constitution is once again a warrant of equality. Until then, that pink triangle will be my reminder of what can happen to us if a seemingly civilized society loses its way and gives in to the delusional and dangerous concepts of human inferiority and superiority.
Uli Paulin lives in Nevada City.
This is personal. It’s almost unbearable to reflect on the density of hatred that must have motivated those who initiated, supported and voted for this abomination and injustice. The result was not completely unexpected; and yet, there was no way to brace emotionally for its impact until it won by a narrow margin.
Now that it has exploded in all our faces, the toxic odor of intolerance is hard to ignore. Unless you convince me otherwise, you might be my foe. How can I not ask myself how you voted when I see you in the supermarket or at the mailbox? How can
I know if the friendliness you display just covers up deep resentments and bigotry you are too polite to express but were not hesitant to vote and thus rule my life by?
For any stranger I see, there’s a 50-50 chance that they anonymously declared me their inferior in the voting booth. How can I not be filled with rage and distrust? Where are the defenders of individual freedom and liberty now? The bullhorns remain strangely quiet when the bullies are half the voting population. Blaming the victim carries less risk.
History teaches that it is not a good place to be a picked-on minority in times of war and economic crisis. For the first time since I moved to California decades ago, it doesn’t feel like California to me. I can deal with earthquakes and fires; but this hatred, the negligent or defiant ignorance of those who fraudulently carry Christ on their banner, stops me cold in disbelief.
The propaganda that radiated from the Mormon, Roman Catholic and Evangelical pulpits had the intended effect; and my anger over what happened is hard to control.
We are angry and disappointed to the bone.
I’ve received e-mails from outraged friends with lists of Prop. 8 donors, individuals and businesses, all public record. What are they asking? Intimidate those back who intimidate us? An eye for an eye? Tempting, after these churches and their followers took the Sermon on the Mount off-line and turned California into a state of separation.
It won’t make me feel any better, but I know who’s not cleaning my carpets again. I am struggling not to let my disappointment and anger turn into hate; but it’s not easy, as you may be able to tell.
Like every minority, we gays and lesbians have our quirks and shortcomings. It is flabbergasting to be attacked because some of us have been lucky enough to find someone to love and to whom we can make a caring, lifelong commitment. If you are so opposed to gay marriage, don’t go to the wedding. Mind your own business! Do you so desperately need someone to look down on, someone whose love for another must be inferior to what’s in your life?
You have told those 90 or so couples who were married in Nevada County this summer that, though they may be good enough for each other, they are not good enough for your approval; and, without your approval, they must not get married. How can you be so arrogant to believe that you are the arbiter of the absolute truth by which others should live?
The wicked witch was not invited to the wedding, and now we’re all cursed. In the old version of that tale, the good fairy came and fixed it after 100 years. We must and can do better. During the last 100 years in history, women gained the right to vote, interracial marriages became legal, homosexuality was no longer a reason to get locked up in an institution, and a black man who can jokingly call himself a mutt has been elected president of the United States and acknowledged gays and lesbians in his acceptance speech.
Time does not stand still and zero growth is not an option for the human spirit. In your heart, you know what to do and where to start. But waste no time. Smiles are wearing thin and not much good can come from needlessly inflicting pain on
others.
This fairy and drama queen will wear a pink triangle until the California constitution is once again a warrant of equality. Until then, that pink triangle will be my reminder of what can happen to us if a seemingly civilized society loses its way and gives in to the delusional and dangerous concepts of human inferiority and superiority.
Uli Paulin lives in Nevada City.
