Not who you love, but how.

Aaaahhhh!

The kids are quite a bit better (thanks for asking!) but the piles of work remain daunting — plus, remember that whole “my sister and I are off to shop for a wedding gown” thingie? The wedding’s tomorrow! And may I add a hearty: Whoo hoooooo! Love is a lovely thing, isn’t it?

So, um, yeah, not a lot of time for blogging today, either.

But it did strike me that on the eve of a state-sanctioned and socially acceptable exchange of vows, at the end of a week in which certain Americans were told, once again, that: “You know what? You don’t get those rights!,” the following piece might be appropriate. It ran in the Chicago Tribune two years ago in the wake of the Larry Craig case (can you believe it’s been two years already? But I digress!), but the truth is that it is just as applicable today as it was then.

In the words of Representative Patrick Murphy (D-PA), a leader in the fight against Don’t Ask Don’t Tell: “If you’re an American, you should believe in equality.”

So, in celebration of my lovely sister and her delightful fiance, and in honor of love in its many, many forms, I offer the following. May we soon see a day on which all Americans are free to marry whomever they may choose.

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A LOVE THAT DARE NOT SPEAK ITS NAME

When love is branded as repulsive, gays find it hard to leave the shadows

By Emily L. Hauser
October 07, 2007

Do I want people having sex while I’m using a public bathroom? No.

As a woman, I’m less likely to suffer that particular creepiness than, say, my husband, but I don’t want it happening to him either – he does occasionally take the kids in there after all. There oughta be a law, and I’m glad there is.

But I can guess what led to the practice of looking for sex in public (yet hidden) places – and I know that some men (whether lawmakers like Sen. Larry Craig or the guy from the hardware store) feel they don’t have other options.

Although some of us have become used to (if not always comfortable with)two men holding hands, and although we laugh at campy stereotypes, and we honored “Brokeback Mountain,” the simple truth is that many American homosexuals continue to feel trapped and hounded by a society that defines them (not what they do, not their lifestyle, not their “agenda,” but them) as disgusting.

Anti-gay activists go on about “the children” or “Scriptures” to dignify their positions, but there is a revulsion in their protest, one that is not repudiated often enough. And every young man or woman at the edge of sexual discovery knows it, and to some extent, absorbs it. Whether they have the tools with which to reject it is another question.

Imagine growing up knowing that the gut-turning, joy-giving longing you feel for another person automatically marginalizes you. Imagine that look on your pastor’s face, your mom’s, your friends’ – that look that is reserved for bad smells and perverts. Only it’s you they’re looking at.

The fight against gay marriage is often compared to the old one against interracial unions, but again, we mistake its virulence. After all, the love a black man may feel for a white woman isn’t an integral part of his character; it’s coincidence. This is the wonderful woman he happened to find.

Gay men and lesbians, on the other hand, are told every day that every person they will ever love is a mark of their lesser humanity. That, indeed, the love they feel – the love – is repulsive.

Is it any wonder that some gay people, particularly those raised in communities and families who teach this kind of hatred as holy writ, do everything they can to hide their longings? Is it surprising that some of them throw their weight behind laws and regulations that would further demonize those longings?

Every time we learn of the “lewd conduct” of yet another conservative leader better known for years of anti-gay fury, we must recognize the protests they have led and laws they have sponsored for what they really are: Elaborate closets, built of self-loathing.
I don’t doubt that there are true perverts in the world – some of them even gay! – and that many people will continue to be titillated by naughty sex in nasty places. We will always need to legislate against creepiness.

But if we really want to stop dignified older gentlemen from approaching potential sex partners in hidden places, we need to start teaching impressionable young kids that they are OK no matter who they love.

It’s not whom you love, it’s how you love. And God knows that, even if we don’t yet.
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Emily L. Hauser is a freelance writer living in Oak Park.

© Chicago Tribune, 2007