21st of 21


A little mid-marriage equality/LGBT civil rights rally PDA, under the watchful eye of St. Pat’s.  Ahem. [Photo: Cheryl Dumesnil.]

I like to think that love will conquer all. I like to believe that the more of us believe this, the more true it becomes. If we’re not there yet  — love victorious and everlasting; love unconditional; and it’s abundantly evident we’re not — still, I like to believe we’re en route. You have to have the long view.

Meanwhile, love’s healing, conquering power does hold true for me, my beloved, and the family we’ve hatched (with the help of what else? love!).  Sometimes, when push comes to shove — and daggone there’s been a lot of shoving lately — I have to feel that that’ll do.

So endeth a month of photos, or so it was supposed to be (photos only).  As expected, I couldn’t resist sneaking a word or two as accompaniment.  Sometimes it was just a word or two and no photo.  And as expected, I spent most of the month waiting for the other shoe to fall.  Shoe 1 being: the election which removed our constitutionally recognized right to support our family structure with state recognition equivalent to those our heterosexual brothers and sisters enjoy. Shoe 2 being: the Supreme Court’s decision on whether or not this was fair and right.

In spite of what we hoped for, most of us anticipated this second shoe would fall on our heads, and lo, it did.  Those LGBT folk who had scuttled on board the S.S. Matrimony before the gangplank was yanked up on election day now enjoy the dubious distinction of a legal umbrella under which we may feel protected, as we watch shoes rain down on our people as a carefully carved out, exceptional class. A second class citizenry, marked off merely by whom we love, now duly noted as such in the state’s constitution.  It’s not a sight I intend to look upon passively, and nor should anyone who agrees that love — real love; true love; love unconditional — matters.  I frankly don’t think it’s a nice, sweet addition to life. I think it’s the glue that holds us together, period. 

If you agree, and you can go, please say so in Fresno tomorrow, May 30, at 1pm, in front of City Hall:  Meet in the Middle 4 Equality.

It’s no coincidence that in San Francisco on Tuesday,  the rally to protest this Supreme Court decision and the heterosexist/homophobic bias it upheld ended at Yerba Buena Gardens.  The modest-sized park is bounded on the one side by a church and on the other side by a monument to the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., our nation’s most honored champion of the untouchable power of love woven with justice.  Various of his words are carved onto marble and brass, behind a mighty curtain of water.  Among them, from his “I Have a Dream” speech: “No. No, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.” 

Sounds about right.

Last words in verse, with apologies to T.S. Elliot:

  • This is the way the battle ends
  • This is the way the battle ends
  • This is the way the battle ends
  • Not with a bang but a kiss.

10 thoughts on “21st of 21”

  1. Love, love, love this photo! So sweet, so joyous! This picture is indeed worth a thousand words…

    …not to dissuade you from adding your own, of course 😉

  2. LD, when I first heard the ruling come down, I could not get this poem (“Sympathy”) by Paul Laurence Dunbar out of my mind:

    “I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
    When the sun is bright in the upland slopes;
    When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass
    And the river flows like a stream of glass;
    When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
    And the faint perfume from its chalice steals–
    I know what the caged bird feels!

    I know why the caged bird beats his wing
    Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
    For he must fly back to his perch and cling
    When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
    And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
    And they pulse again with a keener sting–

    I know why he beats his wing!
    I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
    When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,–
    When he beats his bars and he would be free;
    It is not a carol of joy or glee,
    But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
    But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings–
    I know why the caged bird sings!”

    But, now I’m honored to witness the joy and perseverance of your family. “Sympathy” is something. And this: Sing!

    I’m posting for “Blogging for LGBT Families” today on my own quest and welcome thoughts from you and your readers.

    • O, eyejunkie, thankyouthankyouthankyou. No matter how powerful the love, nor how righteous and the just the cause, a minority group will always need the support of allies in the majority (so said my first sweetie, a Chicana, who was schooling my then-befuddled white self on how to be a real ally). For which, thank you, thank you.

      And you LD reader who’s reading this right now, skedaddle over to her post and give it some long, careful, open-hearted thought.

  3. I have to second LD’s request that everyone go read eyejunkie’s post, and then go read this:


    What has happened here is pretty ordinary on the face of it – one person speaks (writes) their truth, and another person hears (reads) it. But it is actually extraordinary, and what true communication, change and progress is all about.

    Thank you, Polly, for all you do, and thank you eyejunkie for responding with equal courage and heart.

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