Today is my 32nd birthday. The first thing I did when I woke up, really woke up so not counting letting the dog out at 5am, was reach for my BlackBerry and scroll through the social feed to see if SCOTUS rulings were posted. I happily discovered that DOMA was dead, and after reading some updates on that ruling, I hit refresh and new feeds showed that Prop 8 was out too. What a fabulous way to start the day, and even better way to mark this birthday.
My parents split before I got to kindergarten, so I moved between them and my grandparents quite a bit. The constant was love, not just for me, but the way they all taught me that if you love all, people love you back. Sure, this isn't exactly true, but it is a great mindset to instill in a child. Granted, I was also mostly in the south where racial discrimination still ran rampant.
My dad grew up moving around as an Air Force brat. He got to see places all over America and Europe. He fell in love with the free spirited hippy movement, dropped out of college and headed for the Bay Area. There he made friends and those friendships lasted until his passing. I knew many, including Uncle Peter, Cousin Manny, and Uncle Vince. I was 10 when I moved to Oakland to live with my dad. Shortly after I got there a gay bashing event occurred across the bay in San Francisco. When I asked why someone was picking on someone else just because he was gay, these straight men talked to me and told me how unfair life can be, but if you fight long enough and get others to help you or join in your cause, there's hope. That's when I learned about Harvey Milk. To be honest, at 10 I found it hard to understand how it's considered winning when you wound up killed. However, when Milk's actions came up in college, I understood better. It was truly and understandably a cause he dedicated his life to.
For my mom, love was a hard to handle emotional plane. She grew up in the Bay Area during the 50's and 60's. Her dad went through a wife every other year, or so it seemed. Her mom wasn't around and passed at an early age anyway. Friends became her family, and many were gay. The same held true for her, post-divorce in Alabama. The local hair dresser she became friends with was gay, still in the closet out of fear for his safety. Eventually he came out to his family. Low and behold his brother also came out. I think of them when I watch Sweet Home Alabama and Witherspoon's character drunkenly outs her friend. Everyone in the scene stops for a moment and then they react like it's no big deal and get back to what they were doing. I wish it was like that for all, but we're not quite there yet. Thankfully, SCOTUS just nudged us a bit closer.
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