my trip to new mexico

A few weeks ago, I went to New Mexico. It was very emotional to say the least. My dad, grandma (my dad’s mom) and I went out there to visit my great grandma (my dad’s mom’s mom) and my great uncle (my dad’s mom’s brother). It was pretty depressing knowing that my great grandma is going to pass away pretty soon, but it was also really nice to see that she is very healthy and still able to walk around and play scrabble (and kick my ass!). She showed me photo albums of her when she was young. Photos dating back to the 1920s. It was really cool to see those and hear the stories associated with them.

When I hang out with my family, I always get very reflective. I’m very different from my family, especially my dad’s side. My dad is a white American who was born and raised on Long Island. He lived his whole life with priviledge where, on the other hand, my mom, younger brother and I can not attest to having the same types of priviledges he experienced. Maybe this is why I have always found myself more connected with my mom, because I saw her struggling through things beyond her control like her skin color or the fact that her english wasn’t (and still isn’t) very good, or the fact that she never finished school. My dad has never known what it’s like to be a minority.

During my trip, I tried to get him to relate me. I tried to get him to see what same-sex marriage really means. (He told me he doesn’t agree with it, “marriage is only for a man and a woman.”) He said he believed in civil unions (where have we heard that one before?) and I told him that civil unions do not provide the same benefits and legal rights as marriages. He didn’t believe me. I tried to show him how these things affect me and my life. I explained to him that I am so passionate about activism because of the fact that these things affect my life. It’s easy for him to turn off the tv or skip over sections of the newspaper because he can’t relate to things, but I want him to see an article about Gay Rights and associate that with how it will play out in his own daughter’s life.

Later we were at the library and I was asking my dad about my taxes, asking him if I would get a lot back this year. He said “probably not, because you’re single” and I said “Well, what if me and Babe Useless wanted to file our taxes together? How do we go about doing that?” He said “Well.. I think you’d have to be married,” and I responded with, “And that’s what the debate is all about!” So I think my efforts are starting to help him see that it’s a lot more than just having a wedding in a church (and trust me, I am the last person on earth who wants to get tied in to a religious ceremony) but I do want him to see that religion shouldn’t influence our government and vice versa.

Let me tell you, it was an extremely emotional task. I ended up crying like a crazy person in front of him. You know, the type of crying that makes your eyes red and sting for hours afterwards? I know I shouldn’t get so frustrated about it, but it is really important for me that my family realizes that I am (along with every other queer person) being discriminated against every day because of who I am whether its indirect or direct discrimination.

posted by scantron
Comments (View) -|- Tags: personal, priviledge, new mexico, family, same-sex marriage, gay marriage, civil unions, taxes, minority,
How to be a (Responsible) Queer Person: Step 5

Step 5: Make a Family

Not to go all heteronormative on you, but you should marry someone of the opposite sex and have a ton of babies (yes, even you in the red button-up with the square glasses and sad smile; you’re getting up there in years). Not really, but the idea of family is more important than the actual appearance of that family. It does not just mean you and a partner and parenting; it’s your set of relationships to other people who need the same things as you. This means you can make a family out of the friends around you and pets, out of getting closer to your biological family or out of a baseball team, firehouse, modeling agency or other institution where hot people reside. In these cases, a family doesn’t even have to be aware of your existence, so post their pictures from the “Burly Beefcakes” calendar near your bed. They will appreciate it.  

Remember: having kids is a choice, being queer isn’t; it’s an asset. By being queer, you can avoid the trap of unwanted pregnancy—which, at one point or another, is most pregnancy (usually when your perineum rips, and it will). By virtue of not being a quivering mess of a 16-year-old, you can decide how you pluck out a child, whether through adoption, surrogacy or plain ol’ artificial insemination. The final decision rests on you, but a word of advice: adoption allows premade children to find a home, and while forwarding one’s own lineage seems like a noble idea, think of this the next time you contemplate surrogacy or insemination:

Of course, some states are in the process of denying or already deny adoptive privileges to LGBT parents, so it may be a much more difficult road to adopt a child if you are in, say, Arkansas (hint: move). If you have no option to adopt but still desire a relationship with children, become a party clown. Instead of paying excessive money to raise a child, you’ll get compensated for all the children you can handle. And you’ll be universally terrifying, so you will always have their respect. It’s true what they say: clowning is the poor man’s secret and the rich man’s desire.

Kevin Sparrow is a queer writer living in Chicago. Currently, Kevin is the editor of Cul de sac Magazine, an online blog dedicated to social justice and cultural analysis from an LGBT perspective.

posted by guestqueer
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