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The other night, Zach and I started debating on the gay marriage "issue."

Well, I suppose one could hardly call it a "debate," since we were in agreement on the issue; I suppose we simply "debated" the outcome of the "gay marriage debate" in Massachusetts and D.C.

(Yeah, brace yourselves. It's a long one.)

To me, the issue of gay marriage is not of a religious or moral nature. If you know anything about me, then you know I find nothing morally offensive to gay marriage. I see the issue of gay marriage as an issue of equality under the law. The issue by which the government looks at two men (or women) who say, "We love each other..." and decrees that the homosexual relationship is equal to the heterosexual relationship - and thus bestows all the legal rights of marriage upon said relationship. That the government says, "This is just as good. This is just as stable. It is no better; it is no less."

But look at what goes on now... the Federal Marriage Amendment is gaining ground in Congress; President G.W. Bush is considering a "constitutional process" to defend "the sanctity of marriage." What is the federal government saying? Perhaps this: "The union between one man and one man, or one woman and one woman, holds significantly less value than the union between one man and one woman." They say that the love between husband and wife is better than, and preferrable to, the love between two homosexuals. The former deserves all legal rights and privileges; the latter does not qualify for anything more than "friendship" as far as the law is concerned.

Gay "marriage," in the legal sense, would finally acknowledge that the love two men or two women can feel for one another is just as fulfilling, appropriate, and (dare I say) right as the love a man and a woman can feel for one another. About a week ago, Zach and I were listening to NPR, and a story popped up about the costs gay couples must currently endure to work out the legalities of applying such benefits (that are automatically conferred upon heterosexual couples) to their individual relationships. Lawyer fees, government penalties, parental rights, taxes, and time can lead to a losses of $11,000 to $15,000. And even then, after all that, there are some benefits that cannot be transferred by other legal means between same-sex partners. $11,000?! I don't know about you, but I don't have that kind of money. And what really adds insult to injury is the idea that a man and a woman can, in theory, meet on the street, walk to the courthouse, and pay whatever small state fees are required for a marriage license, and suddenly (and painlessly) get even more rights and privileges than I would have to pay $11,000 to $15,000 for. Does this strike anyone else as fair? Does this strike anyone else as equal?

Some opponents of gay marriage point to the fact that, when polled, some homosexuals aren't even active supporters of gay marriage. "See? Why give them the benefit when some of them don't even want it." So? The number of couples who want to marry is not the issue. The issue is fair and equal treatment for those couples (no matter how few or how many) who do desire to participate and gain those benefits. It is not a minority/majority issue; it is an equality issue - pure and simple.

What of civil unions? When Zach and I were "debating," I was horrified to find myself, for the first time, in support of civil unions. I used to scoff and say, "Huh... Civil Unions?... Just call it what it is... marriage." I used to think of civil unions like so: Let's say we're going to manufacture a dog for a heterosexual couple. We'll take the canine DNA sequence (Canis familiaris, you know), slap on some cell membranes and organelles. Add vital organs - heart, stomach, the oh-so-big-and-powerful mammalian brain, bones, blood, skin. The breath of life. Hair, eyes, spleen, claws, healthy-teeth-and-gums, etc. "There you have it," says the scientist. "I have built this animal for you - and we will call it a dog, for that is what it obviously is." Next, the scientist turns to a gay couple and says, "Now let's see about building one for you." Same-old-same-old, right? Canine DNA, cells, tissues, muscle, bone, blood, nerves (don't forget the big brain), and all the other stuff. An identical creation to the creature manufactured for the heterosexual couple, right? The scientists displays the finished product and says, "This is yours by law." The gay couple says, "Thank you for building us this dog." The scientist: "Oh, no! You cannot call it what it obviously is; that is just not moral. The heterosexual couple has that right; instead, you must call yours a camel. It may look like a dog, act like a dog, but it must be a camel."

I used to think of civil unions as that. Hell, I still do. A camel that's really a dog. Marriage in all but name. A regent? Perhaps. But I used to think, "If it looks like marriage, smells like marriage, and confers the same benefits as marriage, then just call it what it is... marriage." But it seems the rest of the country cannot handle that. "James, it's obviously a camel!" And I fear that, if I press to change it's name from camel to dog, then I'll lose the animal altogether. The scientist will turn to the gay couple and say, "I was going to build you a lovely 'camel,' but I won't now since you insisted and insisted that I call it a dog! For shame. Only the hetero couple can have such a right." I suppose I've become so afraid of losing "marriage" (even the camel), that I'd rather have civil unions over nothing at all.

And why do I harbor such fears? Look around you! Thirty-eight states now have laws or constitutional amendments in place barring gay marriage. Thirty-eight! Indiana is considering becoming the thirty-ninth! The Federal Marriage Amendment is gaining momentum in the House of Representatives; the President is on the verge of supporting it. It will eventually get through the Senate - though there are some moderate Republicans who may oppose it (a practically-independent senator from Maine here, a socially-liberal senator from Pennsylvania there), the Republican base will crack the party whip pretty fiercely and say, "This is it. This is the defining moment for the Party. Now fall in line and vote with the President." AND I guarantee that enough swing Democrat votes will capitulate and join the Republican base. And there you have it - two-thirds majorities in both houses of Congress. And what of the states? Three-quarters of the state legislatures must approve the Federal Marriage Amendment. Recall the above - thirty-eight states already have passed laws or amendments that basically concur with the FMA. I'm sure many of those will quickly rally behind the FMA; and enough swing states (just like enough swing senators) can fall in rank and approve the amendment.

And then... there you have it. Social legislation written into the Constitution. A Dark Page. You'd think we would've learned our lesson with the Prohibition Amendment? You think it was embarrassing enough to have that Dark Page on our books, and have to go through the lengthy process of repealing that amendment? Well, we did. But I don't think this nation learned its lesson... or that lesson was hastily forgotten and burried. Alcohol, after all, is one thing. Gay marriage is another. If the idea (that the love two men or two women can feel for one another is fundamentally flawed, and less than the love a heterosexual couple can feel) is written into the Constitution, it will be repealed... eventually (we will come around... eventually). But it won't be repealed in my lifetime. It will take several generations, I fear, before such an error is recongized, and the political process is allowed to take hold.

Am I a pessimist? I prefer the term "realist." And I'd love to be wrong. But I've been studying this issue a lot lately - the politics, the voting, the public opinion... everything.

Call it marriage, and they say no. Call it a dog, and they say no.

Call it civil unions, and some more say yes. Call it a camel, and some say yes.

I'm so afraid of losing it all, that I fear I'll settle for the camel.
But then again, the legacy of Jim Crow teaches us that, after all, separate is always unequal.

Posted by James at February 5, 2004 11:02 PM