Along with 400 marriage equality activists, I stood on the steps of Connecticut’s state capitol building holding my “Straight Mom for Marriage Equality.” Yeah, I know. I’m nominally bisexual and trans-curious but I’m not above using my heterosexual privilege to make a point. After all, I do have that privilege while the majority of people around me didn’t (ergo, I wasn’t the only straight parent there).
The event was moving. Speakers and song, just like any rally for a cause. One college student aimed her picture phone at me and then we exchanged smiles. A butch dyke who gave me a solidarity handshake early on when she saw my sign later gave me a big hug when she saw me moved to tears. (I can’t help it; spectacle does that to me.) And if all that wasn’t splendid enough, I recognized one of the speakers as someone I knew from former BDSM avenue. She’s now an advocate for transpeople. When I went up to her afterwards and after we tracked down how we knew each other, big hugs and tears were had.
But only 400 people there. Now that’s not too surprising if you use the 10% rule. The week before, over 4,000 attended the pro-DOMA rally (final number toted in the local media last weekend), so it all lines up if you use the Kinsey 10% rule. But as uplifting as the event was, I’m still humbled and worried by what I didn’t see: not one gay or lesbian person that I knew from my previous employments. Did ambivalence or the closet keep them away? I don’t know and I was discouraged not to see a friendly familiar face within the crowd. I’m worried, too, about what the bigger pro-DOMA rally wrought: Our embattled and allegedly corrupt governor claiming he’d back a state constitutional amendment to prevent marriage equality. Of course, this is the man who wouldn’t issue gay pride declarations because he freaked out over transgendered being included in the mix. Of course, he can afford to make these statements because he can’t run for another term, is under state and federal investigation for corruption, and probably wouldn’t have to act anyway. It’s little more than a symbolic statements.
Besides, the current legislative session is a short one, totally booked with other matters, and especially caught up in the corruption scandal. (Will we or won’t we impeach?) As well, everyone’s waiting to see what the Massachusetts outcome will be and what the civil rights actions of San Francisco will bring. And dedicated advocates and activists are working hard to keep the issue visible.
But I’m glad I carried my sign. I’m glad I froze my feet off on the concrete steps of our state capitol. And I’ll do it as often as it takes until my queer friends have the same civil rights as I do.
What a week it’s been, though, huh? Poignant and dramatic moments out of Massachusetts. Outright celebratory civil disobedience from San Francisco. Connecticut’s 400 looks miniscule by comparison but so what. Every person is a presence. I’m glad I made my presence known.
