9These shall ye eat of all that are in the waters: whatsoever hath fins and scales in the waters, in the seas, and in the rivers, them shall ye eat.Yesterday, Leo and I walked from 1st and University to 30th and University -- and then on to our home with Ruby. We were just a few among a crowd of 10,000 people marching to show our outrage at the passage of Prop 8. We saw several signs that said it all, among them:
10And all that have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you:
11They shall be even an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat of their flesh, but ye shall have their carcases in abomination.
12Whatsoever hath no fins nor scales in the waters, that shall be an abomination unto you.
- "Welcome to California, where chickens have rights but people don't"
- "Mormons: Latter Day Taliban"
- "California fucked me without a condom"
- "The Mission Gathering Church is sorry for the judgemental, unchristian hate that passed Prop 8. Our community stands with your community in fighting this injustice."
- "Kiss my second class ass"
It floored me to learn that 48% of the donors to Yes on 8 disclosed that they are Mormon. It also concerned me that so much of the money supporting Yes on 8 came from out of state -- after all, we have serious concerns when residents of other countries give large amounts to our federal candidates, because it creates the impression of a real conflict of interest. But the biggest surprise of the Yes on 8 folks was the fact that my own mother gave them an ungodly amount of money.
I learned about it by opening a link sent by a friend on Monday, Nov. 3. His comments were on the role of the LDS church and out-of-state donations. I glanced through the document and saw that it listed donors by city. I looked for my hometown and saw one entry. I did a double-take when I saw that the $1,200 donation had my mother's name next to it.
I called Leo, outraged. He asked if I'd spoken to my dad yet. (I hadn't).
I called my dad, asked him if he knew that she had donated more than $1,000 to political campaigns. (He didn't.) We had a brief conversation where he gave me one-word answers and then told me that he was at a Vietnamese restaurant with her. I asked to speak to her and then she giddily told me that she had, in fact, given the Yes on 8 people $100 a month for a year. I ended the conversation by telling her that that was the last conversation I would ever have with her. (Clearly, this break was years in the making, but this was the final straw for me.)
Nearly a week later, I'm thinking about the pleas for understanding and calm in the wake of last Tuesday's election.
I'm working with my LGBT and straight friends to become active in the Repeal Prop 8 movement.
But most of all, I'm searching for a reason to hope and wondering if our new president can demonstrate the same courage that the fictional Jeb Bartlett did. As Anne Lamott said, “Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.”
Barrack Obama campaigned on the platform of hope and change, yet his victory Tuesday was sullied by the passage of Prop 8 here in California, which was one of the darkest moments of my adult life. Ever the optimist, I cannot sit and simply curse the darkness. While I hope for an end to the dark ages, I'm doing my best to create some light as we wait for the sun to rise.