Some questions about connectedness

Look at that lil’ beefcake. He knows he’s got me right there, in the palm of his tiny hand.

Love him so much it drives me up a tree. Did so from jump. Can’t begin to figure out how the lack of my biological connection is diminishing this love. Can’t begin to figure that. Would I lunge in front of a truck to snatch him from danger any faster if he issued from my loins? Dunno! Don’t want to have to find out. Would the loss of him feel greater? Again, don’t want to have to find out. (But since our innocence in those matters has been lost, it’s not like the thought doesn’t skitter across the brain. I try to keep it skittering on past.)

Would my joy at his happinesses taste sweeter, had I carried and birthed him? I’ll never know. Or wait, here we go: would our bond be more true, if, say, though I didn’t birth him (no father ever has), I knew he was carrying the story of my family in his cells? If I looked at his face and saw my own reflected back?*

As if. Ask every adoptive parent. Ask every step-parent. Ask me.

Look at him. Every baby makes you love them. They’re masters at it. Like the lack of biological connection is going to be any shield. Smell their skin! Programmed to drive you crazy nuts! How do people go about hypothesizing that malarkey, biology über alles? Have they met people like me? Have they seen what babies like this can do?

*Instead, I look at his face and see my love reflected back. That’s the thing.

Quid pro plugs

Two blogular compatriots have been nominated and are currently slogging for votes in the Blogger’s Choice Awards: The Other Mother for “Best Parenting Blog” and “Best Political Blog,” and Looky, Daddy!, for “Hottest Daddy Blog” and “Best Parenting Blog.” Thank heavens each one is up for one award that the other isn’t up for, since otherwise I would have had to re-register under a pseudonym using a dummy email account, and new birthdates and zip codes, and then fake-vote for each of them in the same category.

Myself, I have sworn off campaigning for, or enrolling in, or otherwise attracting the attention of blog competitions for my own aggrandizement after the wild n’ wooly Weblog Awards beeswax of this past December.* Which of course sounds odd since, in the end, that competition seems to have ultimately turned out in this blog’s favor. Though I will maintain that it wasn’t this particular blog, but rather what it represented — lesbian family life, lovingly (and sentimentally) chronicled — that snagged the votes of a great many fabulously feverish supporters. The best part about that competition experience was discovering that lots of folks, regardless of what their family looked like, were willing to go vote and then needle a friend to do so as well. The worst part about it was that it took time away from the more important campaign we had been waging around the household to get our daughter to eat anything besides air. (Okay, that, plus we got slimed w/ some skanky virtual homophobia.)

In my lengthy post-mortem of the Weblog Awards process, I researched the whole weblog award phenomenon a bit and discovered (saints preserve us!) there are several, and others are conducted in such a way as to reduce the multi-voting frenzy that typified and overcharged the Weblog Awards. Blogger’s Choice seems to be organized along fairly civilized lines, without the one voter/as-many-votes-as-possible thing built in.

My only complaint, of course, is that they don’t have a Best Lesbian Dad blog category. Or, oh, I don’t know, an LGBT blog category, any LGBT blog category. I know, they’re tilting toward parsing blogs by “interest,” rather than “interest group.” But other blog awards have recognized LGBT bloggers as a distinct group, worth lumping together and setting against one another in a mudfight.

Be that as it may, in the spirit of great gratitude for the support I received from the authors of The Other Mother and Looky, Daddy! back when I was campaigning in one, I encourage you to support ’em. Looky, Daddy!’s get out the vote for LesbianDad post also has my all-time favorite argument against gay marriage in it. I am honored to be associated with it, and if you haven’t read it, you should hie yourself over there and read it STAT. Then mosey over to the Blogger’s Choice site, sign up (that’s how to keep it clean! so use your neutral, publicity & spam-wary info, folks), and give these fine folks some love.

*Hey! It’s not like I’m not going to stick one of those fun badges on the sidebar, though, if one comes my way. I never was in the boy or girl scouts (there wasn’t an in-between scouts, which would have worked perfect for me). So I have a lot of badge collecting to catch up on.

National Day of Silence


Dana over at Mombian reminded me, in one of her posts yesterday, that April 18 is the National Day of Silence. Now jointly supported by The Gay Lesbian Straight Education’ Network (GLSN) and the United States Student Association, the event began in 1996 at the University of Virginia.

The Day of Silence is an annual event held to bring attention to anti-LGBT bullying, harassment and discrimination in schools. Students and teachers nationwide will observe the day in silence to echo the silence that LGBT and ally students face everyday. In it’s 11th year, the Day of Silence is one of the largest student-led actions in the country.

Like to have a serving of statistics to go with your issues? GLSEN released a report in 2005, From Teasing to Torment: School Climate in America, which found that

LGBT students are three times as likely as non-LGBT students to say that they do not feel safe at school (22% vs. 7%) and 90% of LGBT students (vs. 62% of non-LGBT teens) have been harassed or assaulted during the past year.

The Day of Silence was founded to raise awareness and fight the causes that lead to the feeling of unease, if not unsafety, that has been with so many LGBT students for their whole education. The remarkable coincidence this year, needless to say, is that whether or not people at their school were organizing around the Day of Silence, students across the country — especially in Virginia — have much to be solemn about.