I have to say that I woke up giddy with anticipation this morning.
I came out as a lesbian in 1995 at the age of thirteen, years after the outset of the AIDS epidemic, the year after Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was implemented, and the year before DOMA was signed into law. I witnessed the deaths of peers to bashing and suicide. I was in hot water with every high school principal I met ;-) And now, eighteen years later, I sit with my wife and son awaiting a certain something from the highest court in the nation (not validation, certainly, but a certain degree of recognition; of contrition, perhaps?). Because I came out so young, I’ve always felt a certain parallelism between my personal growth and that of the gay and lesbian movement. I’ve found comfort and camaraderie in the shared struggle for identity, for equality, and for a welcome place at the table of life.
I think of those millions who came before that are not now here to see this monumental shift. And I think of the millions who will come after to see a world that is beyond our current imaginings. And I think how lucky I am to be alive in history. Despite its challenges, I am so grateful to be here now.
And then I picture our children as young adults moving through a world that strives to be more and do more for its brothers and sisters. It’s an ideal, yes, but isn’t that what the living is for? I treasure the daily trudge to higher ground and more fertile dialogue as it’s masked in family, marriage, career, and activism.