Prop 8 and the 7-year-old

“You remember that judge in California, Hannah?  The one who was going to decide if the law saying that two men or two women are not allowed to get married is a good law or a bad law?”

“Yes,” she says.  We were in San Francisco, coincidentally, on the day of the closing arguments, so we had talked about the case over Prop 8.

“He made his decision.  He said that it should be OK for two men or two women to get married,” I say.  “He’s just saying that for California, but it’s still really important.”

“YES!” she says.  “This is the most important thing of all to me.”

I’m a little surprised by her reaction.

“Why’s that?” I ask.

She points to Jane and then to me.

“Hel-LO?  Girl.  Girl.”

I know that she wants same-sex marriage to become legal, in part because she wants to plan a wedding for Jane and me.  She wants to be a bridesmaid.  She wants to ride in a limo.  She wants ice sculpture in the shape of a swan.  She wants us to wear elaborate gowns.  But honestly, I think what she really, really wants is for us to be married like everyone else.

And, in the end, I think it’s her reaction that is the most important thing of all to me.  Yes, I would like to have the rights and recognition that come with a marriage license.  Yes, I think that gay and lesbian people should have the same range of choices as straight people – whether around marriage, parenthood, where we work, where we live, whatever.  That said, for me personally, legal marriage sounds a bit anti-climactic, now that Jane and I have already been together – and believe me, married – for 26 years.

But it matters a lot to me that it matters so much to Hannah.  For those of us who have children, it is tremendously important to be able to show that our families are just as valued as everyone else’s.  We can tell our kids that our families are just as important, but those statements are undermined by laws that say they aren’t.  The truth is that our kids are on the frontlines of explaining our families to the world.  Marriage rights would make that work much easier because they would take away one of the major ways in which our families are set apart.  And, if they mean that Hannah gets to be a bridesmaid, so much the better.

Brides to Be, or Not to Be

“When it’s OK for two women or two men to get married in Minnesota, will you and Mommy wear long gowns?”  Hannah asks me.  She has a few options selected already.  She’s sprawled on her bed flipping through the pages of the Perfect Wedding Guide, one of those free pubs that get handed out in little faux newspaper kiosks on street corners.  Hannah is a total sucker for weddings and the fancier, the better.  “Will you ride in a limo?”  She turns to a page advertising limo services and points to the black stretch.  “I like that one,” she says.

“I’m not sure we’re the limo kind of girls,” I say to her.  Actually, I am sure, and we’re not.  Although maybe, I think – quietly, in the back of my head – it could be fun.

She ignores me.

She keeps turning pages.  “I like this gown,” she says, pointing to a silky lavender dress.  “And this one,” with a tight, lacy bodice.  “But that one looks like the circus,” she says, pointing to a third.  And it does, with its multiple layers of flounce.  Some are pretty, some are bizarre, all are improbable. 

But does it matter?  At the moment, we’re not planning a wedding anyway.  We thought about it, about going to Iowa on a chartered bus, along with a group of lesbians from the Unitarian church we attend.  But we would be just as unmarried in Minnesota upon our return across the state line as we are now.  So we decided to stay home.

 I can humor Hannah, though.  “That one’s pretty,” I say, pointing to a svelte bride in a lacy dress.  Bride is pretty?  Or dress?  Both, I think,

Then she asks what is clearly her most important question:  “When you get married, can I plan the wedding?”

Oh, good Lord.  This is a girl who loves limos and lace and silk and rosettes.  But this is also a girl who thinks an ice cream wedding cake would be just dreamy.  “With chocolate straws,” she explains, “so the guests could drink the melty parts and then eat the straws.”

Well, why not?