I was a bridesmaid last weekend. For those of you who don't know me, I'm approximately five foot six (some days slightly taller), have been described as "stocky", and wear a full beard and glasses - not typical bridesmaid material. Of course, my duties as a nontraditional bridesmaid were performed as part of a nontraditional bridal party in a quite nontraditional queer wedding. A group of gorgeous people, some old friends, some new, gathered in Battery Park in Lower Manhattan on a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon to celebrate not merely the union of a couple but a union of biological families, created families, and close friends. We laughed and cried, ate and drank, and danced until our feet were sore and our dresses and tuxes were soaked with the sweet sweat of a joyous occasion and rockin' party. We admired the late evening sunlight on the ferries, sailboats, cruise liners, and on Lady Liberty in New York Harbor. For a few hours, we set aside our daily struggles and embraced one another as one big, fat, queer, gender variant, heteronormative, divorced, adopted, remarried, tattooed, pierced, fancy dressed lovefest.
It was not too different than my very own gay on gay wedding celebration that took place a month earlier among the Redwoods in Northern California; we had gotten married earlier in the year on November 4, when it was still legal. My husband, David, and I gathered with our family and friends to celebrate our relationship, the life we've begun to build, our love for each other, and our love for all of the wonderful people who have stood by us and supported us, partied with us, and let us cry on their shoulders during difficult times. We were Jews, Christians, Atheists, Buddhists, Agnostics, and Spaghetti Monster believers. We were married, unmarried, single, divorced, remarried, choosing to define something different. We were from Texas, New York, and California. We were straight, gay, queer, lesbian, bisexual, asexual, kinky, vanilla, and whatever mood happens to strike. We were female, male, male/female, female/male, trans, gender queer, and free to be whatever gender we wanted to be at any given moment. We ate, drank, toasted, and went to a drag show. We were the religious right's worst nightmare. We were family.
The friends from New York who were married last weekend had been at our wedding celebration. They got to know our families, visited with old friends, and made new friends. At one point last Sunday in Battery Park as I stood and watched everyone dance and laugh, I started thinking about what was happening, what was being created. I realized that my wedding, and later my friends', was not just a celebration of a union of two people but it was the celebration of a union of many. I thought about how new friendships resulted from these events, possibly leading to even more weddings in the future. I thought about my own friends and families and how our families have grown not just by marriage but by the creation of relationships, parenting children together, and the bonds that form when families, friends, and often strangers unite to celebrate and support (and every now and then humiliate) us. It occurred to me that family can be exponential with each person, relationship, or group that we add, and that (re)defining family in these ways, including through "nontraditional" marriage, is a way of building and amplifying love - and it's what scares the crap out of conservatives.
They are threatened by their own sexuality. They are afraid of anything and anyone who is not white and Christian. They worry that they are losing power and know that oppression and discrimination are tools for maintaining the status quo. They limit themselves in their relationships and experiences due to these fears. They fail to experience life in all it's glory because exploring gender and sexuality would make them doubt themselves and they might enjoy it too much. They refuse to engage with others whose skin color, faith tradition, sexual identity, and gender expression is different than theirs. Do they fear that they will realize the commonalities in their lives? Or that their bigotry will be illuminated? Or, worse, figure out that they are missing out on all the fun?
As we celebrate pride in different cities across the country, we should consider the beauty of our communities and our families. We should reach out a hand to those who are hurting. We should embrace one another - the girly butches, leather queens, boyish girls, prissy men, butch fairies, drag queens, bearded ladies, and everyone in between - and threaten those uptight, fun-hating, hypocrites with our love.
Happy Pride Month!
