Yesterday was our 14th wedding anniversary. (And the first we've ever spent apart - Alen is at the Bird Fair in Rutland Water, England.)
A few thoughts about our wedding - in 1996 a gay wedding wasn't nearly as common as today. It was actually just starting to be at all fashionable. We did find a gay wedding consultant - they helped us with the invitations. We had a wonderful (Reform) rabbi, who was nothing but supportive through the whole process. I think it helped our guests that he was a man with a beard - he looks like a rabbi and that gave a sense of "normalcy" to the proceedings.
Alen wore a tux and I wore a wedding gown - something I had always wanted to do. The tux store lady encouraged Alen to wear tails - a cutaway which fit over her hips as a jacket would not have done.
My gown was altered by a lady who was very into weddings. On our fourth visit in which I had not exactly told her what kind of wedding it was she said to me, "Gail, I know."
We didn't tell people at my congregation. I had been told that either you invite the whole congregation or no one, so we opted for no one. This was largely because of Alen's work with a youth organization in a state that did not yet have a non-discrimination law. I told my congregation president a couple of months before that we were doing this privately. As I recall, he was concerned what others in the congregation might think.
Our lack of openness meant that on the day before our wedding Alen had to go to work. There was some big event and she had no excuse to get out of it. At the time I thought I'd never get over it - today it just seems like a piece of evidence about how not out we were compared to now.
We went back to work wearing wedding rings. Alen's very straight boss asked her if her ring meant something and then said something like, "Congratulations, Gail is a lovely girl."
What we didn't anticipate was how our families took us much more seriously after the wedding. Neither of them had been particularly enthusiastic and we dealt with quite a bit of negativity on the way to the chuppah. But somehow the ceremony gave us more legitimacy in their eyes. At least that's how it seems.
I'll never forget the toast Alen's brother made at the wedding - he said that this kind of thing was completely not done in Trinidad, but that he saw how much love and acceptance we had around us and that he hoped that in future, we would have more, also in Trinidad. And I feel that this really has come to pass in the 14 years since then.
Our friend Debbie and Shoshana sang a wonderful song which ended: "Here's a toast to Hannah who today is undercover. May she soon be blessed with a sister or a brother." Hannah, our dog from those years, passed away without getting to meet Gabi and Sasha. But Debbie and Shoshana's blessing has also come true.
Mazal tov to Mindy and Alan, who share our wedding anniversary and just celebrated 8 years, to my parents, who are celebrating 52 years of marriage today, and to Sara Rivka and Gideon who are getting married tomorrow.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Driving Questions 2 - Gabi and Prop 8
Once they learn to read, it's a whole new world of parenting.
A recent care package from our friend Rosalind who lives in California included a bag of buttons, "NO on 8". When we picked up the package on our way to the pool, Gabi wanted to know, "what is NO on 8?".
So I was trying to explain Prop. 8 to her and that some people don't want people of the same sex to be able to get married. She thought she understood that, "so when the law passed, people like you and Ima have to get divorced???"
That just about made me cry - that she would think they would pass a law that we have to get divorced. Then she decided it would have to have a grandfather clause, "No, people won't have to get divorced, just new people can't get married."
So I tried to explain to her that there's a difference between being married in the eyes of G-d, family and friends and being married by law. She understands the G-d, family and friends thing, and she checked that Ima and I are married that way, but she didn't really understand what being married by law means. It was weird to tell her we aren't married by law after all these years of telling her we are married. It felt very strange to tell her that not everyone recognizes our marriage. I mean, this is the kids whose classmates when they came over wanted to know which one of us broke the glass at the wedding. How much more married can you get in their eyes?
It's even more complicated because here in Israel, there's a long legal tradition of giving folks who are common law married, in Hebrew "known in public", the same rights as legally married folks. And our courts have extended those rights to same-sex couples such that there really aren't so many legal rights that have not been or could not be claimed by same-sex couples. So here in Israel, not married by law does not have so much force.
But of course that's not true in the US, as any bi-national couple like us can tell you.
But the hardest part of the whole discussion was the punch in the stomach impact of her 7 year old words, "so if the law passed, people like you and Ima have to get divorced?" As though a vote in California could create havoc in the lives of thousands of kids like her. Thank G-d it is more complicated.
A recent care package from our friend Rosalind who lives in California included a bag of buttons, "NO on 8". When we picked up the package on our way to the pool, Gabi wanted to know, "what is NO on 8?".
So I was trying to explain Prop. 8 to her and that some people don't want people of the same sex to be able to get married. She thought she understood that, "so when the law passed, people like you and Ima have to get divorced???"
That just about made me cry - that she would think they would pass a law that we have to get divorced. Then she decided it would have to have a grandfather clause, "No, people won't have to get divorced, just new people can't get married."
So I tried to explain to her that there's a difference between being married in the eyes of G-d, family and friends and being married by law. She understands the G-d, family and friends thing, and she checked that Ima and I are married that way, but she didn't really understand what being married by law means. It was weird to tell her we aren't married by law after all these years of telling her we are married. It felt very strange to tell her that not everyone recognizes our marriage. I mean, this is the kids whose classmates when they came over wanted to know which one of us broke the glass at the wedding. How much more married can you get in their eyes?
It's even more complicated because here in Israel, there's a long legal tradition of giving folks who are common law married, in Hebrew "known in public", the same rights as legally married folks. And our courts have extended those rights to same-sex couples such that there really aren't so many legal rights that have not been or could not be claimed by same-sex couples. So here in Israel, not married by law does not have so much force.
But of course that's not true in the US, as any bi-national couple like us can tell you.
But the hardest part of the whole discussion was the punch in the stomach impact of her 7 year old words, "so if the law passed, people like you and Ima have to get divorced?" As though a vote in California could create havoc in the lives of thousands of kids like her. Thank G-d it is more complicated.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Driving Questions
Last night I drove a friend back into town after she visited us for dinner. The friend is a catholic sister from South Africa whom I met right when we moved to Jerusalem. We were talking about our experiences living in Jerusalem during that difficult year of the second Intifada - 2001-2002.
I took Sasha in the car with us and we drove, as I usually do, through the West Bank - route 375 past Beitar Illit (an ultra-Orthodox settlement, population about 30,000, median age 11) and Husan (the Arab town across the street, population about 60,000).
On the way home, Sasha started asking me about a high wall on the side of the road as you drive between the tunnels through Beit Jala. He wanted to know why it was there - he thought it was for shade. I told him it was to stop people shooting at us - then got worried that's not the kind of thing you say to a four year old. So I told him not to worry, it had been put up a long time ago, that's not happening now. Perhaps I made myself feel better. The shooting did not seem to concern him, he just said "It's to stop people going peyuw peyuw," imitating a gun.
Then as we drove past Husan he asked me if we were home, and I said no, we were going past Husan and Beitar first and he asked me if we could visit Husan. So I said no, we don't go there, and then he wanted to know why. I wasn't sure what to say. I said because it's an Arab town and Jews and Arabs live pretty separately here, and then I said they speak another language and we don't understand it, and that went into a discussion of languages and which ones Sasha knows and doesn't know.
And I got to thinking about how it's different to have a son than a daughter, and what's the right thing to be teaching him, and I have no idea. YMCA camp starts in 2 weeks and he'll meet kids and adults who speak Arabic for the first time.
I took Sasha in the car with us and we drove, as I usually do, through the West Bank - route 375 past Beitar Illit (an ultra-Orthodox settlement, population about 30,000, median age 11) and Husan (the Arab town across the street, population about 60,000).
On the way home, Sasha started asking me about a high wall on the side of the road as you drive between the tunnels through Beit Jala. He wanted to know why it was there - he thought it was for shade. I told him it was to stop people shooting at us - then got worried that's not the kind of thing you say to a four year old. So I told him not to worry, it had been put up a long time ago, that's not happening now. Perhaps I made myself feel better. The shooting did not seem to concern him, he just said "It's to stop people going peyuw peyuw," imitating a gun.
Then as we drove past Husan he asked me if we were home, and I said no, we were going past Husan and Beitar first and he asked me if we could visit Husan. So I said no, we don't go there, and then he wanted to know why. I wasn't sure what to say. I said because it's an Arab town and Jews and Arabs live pretty separately here, and then I said they speak another language and we don't understand it, and that went into a discussion of languages and which ones Sasha knows and doesn't know.
And I got to thinking about how it's different to have a son than a daughter, and what's the right thing to be teaching him, and I have no idea. YMCA camp starts in 2 weeks and he'll meet kids and adults who speak Arabic for the first time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
