What if They're Gay?

My wife is pregnant. Very. Three days past due. We already have twins—which, I suppose is obvious, if you’re here. This blog has gone quiet, and if it weren’t for a friend asking why there haven’t been any posts in over a year, it would likely remain that way. The fact is, life is busy. Raising Jackson and Logan over the last two years has taken time, along with switching careers and putting the finishing touches on a graduate degree. Oh, and expecting a third. 

I’ve always wanted to post things when I had (or thought I had) something interesting, insightful or funny to say. Perhaps that mission has satisfied my own needs more than anyone else’s. But today, as the Supreme Court began to consider whether or not gay people should be allowed to marry in this country, the impact it could have on my family is top-of-mind.

Here in Massachusetts, where we live, it isn’t an issue; gay marriage has been legal for quite a while. In full disclosure, I have close family members and friends who are gay, so, yes, I am very much in favor of gay marriage. In even fuller disclosure, I didn’t always feel that way. Quite the opposite. I used to say and believe things that I am not proud of. 

“You are such a faggot.”

“Get a load of those dykes.”

“If gays marry, what’s to stop someone from marrying their dog?”

The first two are bad enough. The third? Cringe-worthy. But all are variations of things that came out of my mouth at one time or another. In my heart of hearts—believe it or not—I never felt animosity towards gay people. But to say I felt comfortable around them wouldn’t be accurate either.  I am grateful that my world was opened up to the ridiculously-coined (yet oddly-amusing ...this is a whole other blog post altogether) term “gay lifestyle.” Though, to be honest, it proved to be a lot less exciting than the media leads us to believe. I've sen no shirtless dancing, no scenes from Cinemax After Dark. From my vantage point, it involves quilting and lots of episodes of CSI, but that’s not the point. 

The point is, this country seems to be shifting its attitude towards granting two consenting adults the right to commit to one another in a manner that at least validates their relationship in a legally-binding way. Today, as friend after friend—many of whom I know to have consistently conservative voting records—began changing their Facebook profile picture to the red “equality” sign, it really hit home how many people are beginning to either change their stance on the issue, or finally becoming vocal about it. And I am one of those people. 

I wasn't the only one...far from it.

I don’t consider myself tied to either political party, though both have ideas that I support. Even though I have been in support of gay marriage for a while, I’ve never given it a voice beyond conversations with people who I know will agree with me. I’m tired of worrying about whether or not someone thinks different of me, based on my ideology of something I believe to be so obvious. Keeping quiet about it is a disservice to loved ones who could use every supporter they can get. Should that lead to a series of "un-friendings," so be it.

So what does this all have to do with my kids? I don’t know if Jackson and Logan are gay, nor do I know whether or not our little girl to-be, Elise will be. What I believe to be true is that there is nothing they can do, and nothing we can do to them to change their orientation. But, to be honest, I hope none of them are.  Please don't confuse the previous sentence. To Jess and me it doesn’t matter, and we will make sure from the moment our kids can understand the concept, that we support them, love them and accept them as they were made. Who they love is only as important as the kind of person they love (no Kansas Jayhawk fans, please...some Missouri-boy biases are impossible to shake). 

What sparks my desire for straight kids is knowing the road ahead of them will be vastly more difficult if they aren't. Who wants things scribbled on their kids' locker, beaten up, mocked? Who wants them to go through life knowing that there are only small pockets where they can hold the hand of the person they love without dirty looks, sneers, things whispered under breaths or much, much worse? That the idea of not going on seems more doable than dealing with the hateful shit from people they so desperately wished liked them.

But the optimist in me hopes that the coming weeks will continue to chip away at the iceberg. You have to be optimistic, right? I don’t have the greatest faith in human beings—especially when it comes to a topic that can bring out such vitriol. But perhaps we’re turning a corner. A corner that will allow my kids, your kids, all kids, should they be gay, to someday not only have a license saying they’re OK, but to enjoy the oft taken-for-granted luxury of affection without retribution. An environment where "It Gets Better" videos aren't necessary.

I mean, if a closed-minded asshole like me can change…

“A world so hateful someone would rather die than be who they are

And a certificate on paper isn’t gonna solve it all, but it’s a damn good place to start

No laws gonna change us, we have to change us”

--Macklemore, “Same Love”