Riding with the Rev. -- Helen Carroll

Out of the Mouths of Children

In our travels across Ohio we were hosted by the First Unitarian Universalist Church of Columbus and the Unitarian Universalist Church of Akron. For over thirty years Unitarian Universalism has been working toward equality for gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender persons. Homophobia is against our religion and against our sense of justice.

In these churches we heard the stories by and about the children. In Akron Beverly Senkowski was welcomed by the Unitarian Universalist community where she raised four children as the non-biological mom. Life for her revolved around their needs and wants and the children grew and prospered.

Unfortunately the relationship ended for the two moms after ten years – and the children became pawns as the biological mom ended all contact for Beverly. Beverly explained, “Many anti-gay folks say that they want to deny same sex marriage to protect the children. No one in this situation suffered more than the kids. No ones lives were changed more drastically. Remember no court intervened on their behalf. No law protected them. No system helped them to be heard. No court appointed guardian determined what was in their best interest. They were abandoned on all fronts.”

Beverly is fighting for equality and civil marriage in honor of the children – the ones of her heart and the one to nine million children living in the LGBT community. Civil marriage will grant to these families guarantees like child support, visitation rights, and custody privileges, as well as, honoring their homes as worthy. It’s hard enough to create healthy supportive families in our complex society without casting aside those being nurtured by same-gender couples.

In Columbus Ann Myers, founder of Speak Out, a group of straight allies working for gay rights, shared the story of her seven year-old daughter Meaghan who often helps at rallies by carrying signs and handing out literature. Meaghan is already an activist for marriage equality. When told there were some who believed that a man and a man or a woman and a woman should not be allowed to marry, Meaghan announced, “That’s stupid.”

Sometimes the truth comes out of the mouths of children.

Thank You St. Louis

As we travel across the country, we’re being educated almost as often as we’re bringing new information to our audiences. We crossed California, Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Kansas, and Missouri. These states are exploring the rights and responsibilities of gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender persons in the legislature and through the work of activists and allies. Our hosts are the GLBT communities and organizations that carry on the grass-roots efforts along our route. They have welcomed us, offered their hospitality and often co-sponsored our events and actions.
In St. Louis on Friday we experienced hospitality “Missouri-style” at a barbecue and rally hosted outdoors (even though it was raining). Local activists from a number of organizations put together an afternoon of hot dogs, speakers, music, and fun and invited us as honored guests. We met new friends, heard from the leaders in the local GLBT community, had an opportunity to share our stories, and took the chance to relax. For an hour or so, we were able to unwind and just enjoy. Each time we make a connection with another community I’m reminded that there are a lot of people across this country engaged in the struggle for equal rights for same-gender folks. What we need now is for each of those folks to tell someone else about the inequities, to tell someone else that same-gender couples can’t receive survivor benefits, can’t sponsor their foreign-born partners, can’t file joint tax-returns, and on and on.
When I’m enjoying the music on a rain soaked day, eating hot dogs and chatting with friends, I know we can make civil marriage a reality. Thank you, St. Louis.

Watch the Trees

Our personal safety is always an important issue. The executive committee insists that we take care of our “buddy” and that no one goes exploring without letting someone know. We wear purple whistles and have agreed to give up some personal freedoms to ride on the bus.
Thursday morning in Denver our sense of safety was challenged. At the 6:30 check-in one of our group was missing. He disappeared during the previous night’s free time and continued to be missing when we gathered for a breakfast hosted by the Gill Foundation and a rally held in the Greek Amphitheater. During both events, riders continued the public witness of telling their personal stories, even as they grew more concerned for the missing friend. As we travel east through unfamiliar countryside the possibility of danger or trouble travels with us. The reality of our vulnerability was made real by the absence of one in our number.
Personal safety is a concern for many gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender persons. So often being out brings with it alienation from family and friends and harassment from the straight community. In too many settings GLBT persons are being treated as second class citizens, as though they don’t count. What an odd notion. Accepting the inherent worth and dignity of every individual means that everyone counts.
Our missing friend was found – safe. Disaster was averted this time and we continue toward Washington. But his absence and the possibility of tragedy hang over us as a constant reminder that all is not well in a society that carves out a group of citizens simply for being different.
Yellow, red and orange paint the trees in the heartland and this morning we were reminded to watch the trees. “Watch the trees?” asked a rider, “Why, are they hostile?”

Pony Express

I can almost imagine what riding for the Pony Express was like. Rise before dawn, pack light, check-in, get the assignment, then ride hard and long taking the message into unknown and possibly hostile territory. There’s comfort and support along the way – wayside respite, food and shelter. Then, up, out and on the road.

Our Marriage Caravan Express is practicing a similar discipline. Up early, pack and load, confirm assignments (who’s speaking and when, who’s responsible for logistics, signs, and contacts, who’s wearing wedding garb, and who knows what time zone and state we’re in) and then ride hard and long. We’re taking to the road, touching hearts and minds with the message that civil marriage is a civil right, made unavailable to same-gender couples by our current laws.

We’re in new territory, traveling across Wyoming and watching antelope and buffalo from the windows of the bus. Mid-morning we’re in Laramie on the campus of the University of Wyoming. Two hundred curious students and visitors gather for the outdoor wedding rally in which three couples exchange vows in a traditional marriage ceremony. Two of the three are same-gender couples who married in San Francisco in February and became legal strangers as soon as they left California. Then we gather inside for a panel discussion, lunch and more conversation. There’s a sense that the event is a success – that we’ve put a human face on discrimination.

Today marks the anniversary of the beginning of the events that led to the horrific murder of Matthew Shepard in 1998. Former police Chief Dave O’Malley tells us how that tragedy changed his life. He remarks wryly that he lost his innocence at 16 and his
his ignorance at 42. For everyone on the caravan Matthew’s kidnapping, torture and murder six years ago are a reminder of our own vulnerability and of the destructive power of hate and discrimination.

Before leaving Laramie, we stop at the Fireside Lounge, where the atrocity began, and gather for a brief memorial service to remember the life and living of Matthew Shepard and all those who lived and died as victims of hate. We begin by lighting a candle, remembering that though our spirit is but the glow of a single flame, for the one who keeps it burning brightly to the end, death is not defeat. This is a time for expressing grief and pain, a time for sharing fear and dread and a time for holding one another in a network of caring. When it is done, healing can begin. When we have remembered and imagined and dreamed and hoped, we can return to the journey before us.

Back on the road we head for Cheyenne and dinner hosted at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Cheyenne. After the intense emotionally exhausting day, this UU congregation offers us a place to rest, to eat and be recharged. Their hospitality and warm welcome are contagious and soon riders and hosts are exchanging stories, hope and dreams. Thank-you UUCC. Yours is a beautiful, gracious and uplifting community and we appreciate your support.

Denver is the next stop and tomorrow promises to bring new challenges.

A Sense of Justice

Tuesday October 5, 2004

My sense of justice is challenged by the stories I’m hearing from others on the caravan. Consider this from Jacqueline.

Jacqueline grew up in the mid-west in a loving Roman Catholic home. She joined the military and served for fifteen years, reaching the rank of staff sergeant. Jackie was still serving when the Clinton Administration initiated the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. Gays and lesbians in the military are unable to acknowledge their sexual orientation in any way. Not only are couples in long-term committed same-sex partnerships unable to claim health care, retirement or travel benefits for their life partners, they are unable to display photos or even talk about such relationships. Because family members are considered “next of kin,” same-sex partners are not informed when their soldier-spouse is injured or killed in combat.

In 2000, Jackie made one of the hardest decisions of her life. She resigned her commission and left a career she valued in service to her country. A veteran of the Gulf War, she could no longer live a double life and her commitment to and love for Beverly won out. With only five years remaining before she was eligible for retirement, Jackie sacrificed a secure future to nurture and build a future with her life-partner, Beverly.

Listening to her story, I wonder how her sexuality has anything to do with her effectiveness as a soldier. Clearly a decade and a half of service is certain proof that Jackie brought considerable gifts to the military. She served as do thousands of gay and lesbian personnel in times of conflict as well as peace, willing to die for rights denied her and the woman she loves.

That doesn’t feel like justice to me. Currently there are 1138 rights available to married couples that are withheld from loving committed same-sex couples. A gay or lesbian partner of a US citizen who is not a US citizen can be deported once his or her visa expires. If a gay or lesbian person’s partner dies, the surviving partner has no rights to receive any government benefits such as social security or veteran’s pensions.
In many cases, gays and lesbians are not covered under their partner’s health insurance plan. If a gay or lesbian person’s partner is in the hospital, immediate family members can deny access to that partner. In the majority of states, legal documents that are drawn up between gay and lesbian partners (wills, powers of attorney) can be challenged by family members and invalidated by courts subjecting the surviving partner to potential financial hardship. And the list goes on.

It concerns me that unless gays and lesbians in relationships are allowed access to civil marriage, they will be subjected to financial and emotional hardships that are unfair and discriminatory, and this is not consistent with American values and beliefs. How can we hope for justice, equity and compassion in our relationships as long as such inequity exists?

And so we begin -

I love California – the mist and fog hanging heavy over the coast, the rugged, rocky interior with pine and redwood, spruce and fir; and the rich fertile valleys. Today I traveled across this, my adopted state, with forty-four caravan riders on the first day of an eight-day journey to witness for marriage equality.

We are a motley crew- as diverse as the countryside. Among us are a kick boxer, lawyer, chiropractor, soldier, and teacher. We are gay and straight, retired and working, mothers, sisters, brothers and fathers. We are a postcard for the rich diversity of human experience. And we travel together to speak with a single voice in cities and towns from here to Washington, DC.

We gathered in Oakland at 6:00 am, with a warm send-off by friends, relatives and well-wishers. There was nervous excitement on the bus – folks giggling, hugging, claiming seats and stowing possessions. This bus will be our mobile home for long hours in the coming days and it made good sense to do a little nesting. Our first stop came in Sacramento on the steps of the state capital. Supporters from the Unitarian Universalist Legislative Ministry, PFLAG and others joined a curious press at our first rally.

For the first time I heard the stories of the “love warriors” that I’ve joined in this effort.
Their stories of discrimination, of being treated as second-class citizens took on a human face and I was reminded why this is such an important trip for me.

I’m riding today because diversity is one of the gifts of creation – a gift out of the Mystery that is Life and one that ads a richness and texture to all that is. I feel a disconnect in my society that can not celebrate that diversity, that gives to some and takes from others. If we affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every individual, how can such inequity continue?

The light is fading and so am I….until tomorrow –