awakenings

Anyone watch the L word last night? J. and I went a local bar that shows the episodes on the big screen every Sunday night. I think this is going to be a weekly date for us, so much fun to watch with a bunch of lesbians yelling at the screen! Gay girls take this show personally and rather seriously, it seems.

I loved last weeks episode – when Bette and Tina kissed you should have heard the place break out in cheers, and Alice and Tasha…be still, my beating heart. Unfortunately, this week was kind of lackluster. As J kept saying “too much talking, too much talking…why all the talking?”

As if we watch for the dialogue! Please.

Still, the whole pot brownie, lip syncing scene that ended with Dawn Dembo (LA’s fictional lesbian scene’s newest answer to the Wicked Witch of the West) yanking the cord out of the stereo and yelling Shane….now that was priceless.

“You messed with the wrong bitch, bitch!”

Aside from the sex scenes (which were actually rather uninspiring this week), lines like THAT would be why I watch the L word. I so want to find a real life situation where I can use that line. Seriously. Just to be cool like that. ‘Cause I could pull it off, I’m sure.

I could have done without the male full frontal shot. (wow, could I ever have done without that) and really, I could have definitely lived without watching Jenny having sex with ANYONE (who are they kidding with those nails. ouch). And what is with Dumbo’s ditsy girlfriend, with her fake boobs and one piece demin shortall jumpsuit? Not cute. Surely Shane can do better…

Still, the promise of more Tibette in the future, the way things are heating up with Tasha’s situation, and the fact that I’m very curious to see what happens with Adelle (she cannot be trusted, I predicted that from the beginning) means that there is still much to look forward to this season.

And, in news unrelated to the L word – there was a very, very attractive soft butch at the bar last night. She seemed to be a friend of A (my first kiss, think I will write more about her soon) and so I asked if she was single. Apparently A. has a big mouth, because she told her I was asking – and M (that would be the butch girl) asked A to arrange a hang out. My goodness, it seems my social calendar just might be filling up…

Nice!

I found this video today (on the girl’s myspace page – she added me as a friend – good sign, yes?) and had to share it. It seems rather cliché to say I saw the story of my life in the youtube version of a Shel Silverstein book, but I imagine that is part of the appeal– we can all recognize ourselves and our journeys in the simple line drawings and quietly powerful message.

The missing piece. That was me through my teens and twenties. Searching, seeking – always desperate to find the thing that would complete me. Not just in relationships, because that yearning didn’t go away with my marriage. Not just in my life passions, because it didn’t disappear when I discovered my birth work and photography. Not just in my need for friendships and community, for not even with the creation of those bonds did the constant feeling of seeking and searching ever totally relinquish the hold it had on me. I would often think I had found *it*, that magical piece that would quiet the yearning – and then I would get frustrated life changed (or I changed, or they changed) and things no longer fit quite right.

It’s only in the past six months, in discovering and owning MYSELF that I have found I am no longer looking for the missing piece. In finding the strength to say “This is who I am, and I’m finally willing to risk everything to live my life with authenticity.” Not by changing who I am, but by BECOMING myself.

I’m still very much in the “lift…pull…flop…” phase – but I can feel it now, that my edges are beginning to wear down. My journey is getting smoother, and I’m learning how to roll. On my own. I’m also learning that it’s okay if I want someone to roll with – a friend, a dance partner, a date, someone who might become something more at some undetermined point in the future. It’s even okay if I want to roll with a few pieces at the same time, or if I get different things from different pieces of my life. It’s okay, because this is all part of figuring out what shape I will ultimately take.

I don’t feel any longer like there is any one person or thing that will complete me – because I am learning, slowly but surely, that I complete myself. And that, my friends, feels very good indeed.

So, I wasn’t looking. Nope. I swear I wasn’t. Holding the space, working on my own personal development, defining my new existence. All that good stuff. I’m solid and standing strong on my own. Yup.

[You’re a smart group of folks. Pretty damn sharp from what I’ve been able to reckon thus far. Not much gets past ya’ll. Can you guess where this is going? If you’re the betting type, I can hook you up with a good bookie…]

Last night I went out with J, and let me tell you – we had an utterly fabulous time. We hit the country bar again, and I two-stepped with some great dancers (the difference between tripping over my feet like an idiot and working the floor like a pro, I have discovered, is choosing a partner who really knows how to lead. A strong lead makes all the difference in the world). I even tried a little line dancing (Tush Push anyone?). I’m pretty sure I looked like a complete ass, but at least I was as ass who was having fun.

[Here, let me hook you up with some music to set the mood for the story. Every good tale needs a soundtrack…]

I know, I know, it sounds cheesy as hell (and lets be real, it absolutely is) but I always have a good time at this place. It’s low pressure, completely unpretentious, great random mix of people and pretty chill, without that sleazy bar feeling. Besides, I think that (much to my surprise) I’m developing a liking for girls with big belt buckles and cowbody hats. What’s not to like about that?

So, there was a girl there, but I bet you already knew there would be, because – like I said– you’re smart like that.

[Of course, being that it was a lesbian bar, and that I set up the story fairly well, I suppose it was a pretty safe bet…]

Yes indeed, there was a girl.

I actually met her a few weeks ago, and liked her immediately – but it was just a few days after things went down (or downhill, perhaps I should say?) with e. I was quietly hoping she would be there last night, and actually got a little jolt of excitement when I saw her.

[Her name begins with S, but since there is already an S. who features rather prominently in this blog, I’ll just call her ‘the girl’]

We chatted a bit, and danced once I think– and then J. danced with her. When my dear friend got off the dance floor she looked at me sheepishly drunkenly and confessed that she might have accidentally purposely told the girl that I thought she was hot. Apparently the girl said that she thought I was hella cute, and J. (dear friend that she is) told her that I was also hella single. She responded that she was also hella single….and with that helpful lead-in there was eye contact, and smiles and more great dancing and conversation.

And she kinda asked me out, and I kinda asked her out, and we exchanged the all important myspace page info and let me tell you, I was a little giddy. It was fun to feel that way – things with e. began with intensity and ended with intensity and there was no lighthearted giddiness to be found at any point. This was a reminder of how fun and totally without pressure or seriousness the very beginning of anything can be.

After the bar closed J (on the power of three jagerbombers, damn Red Bull) decided she wasn’t ready to go home. There was a brief discussion of after hours dancing at a gay boy country bar, but ultimately we all decided to head to Gay Denny’s to get our grease fix (yes indeed, we have a Gay Denny’s – or Jenny’s as it’s called by those in the know). Everyone should have a Gay Denny’s.

All was well until J started talking about her children, and I mentioned that I have kids as well. And maybe I’m being paranoid, but I think I felt a shift in her attitude. I might have been totally imagining things, and I hope I was.

For the first time I really started to consider the fact that my kids might be an issue for me and some of the women I would like to date. They certainly became an issue for e. in the end – and I’m sure it won’t be the last time the fact that I am a mother affects my dating potential.

Let’s be honest, if my children are an issue – what of my entire situation….

“Hi, I’m Jen. Not only do I have two young children who take up much of my time and energy, but until six months ago I was still pretending to be straight as an arrow. I’ve kissed just two women, and only slept with one in an utterly drama filled quasi-relationship that just ended on a bad note– but what I lack in experience I promise I make up for with enthusiasm. Yes siree. I’m enthusiastic. Oh yes, you should know that I still live with my husband. Not my ex-husband – we’re still totally and completely married and likely to stay that way for a while because for several reasons I don’t want to get into right now.  But don’t worry – we don’t share a bedroom…anymore. That was so last month. We’re just like roommates, except we had sex for 11 years and made two babies together. Oh…before I forget, I don’t actually have a job, or any source of income – and once I’m sugar daddy stops supporting me, I’m pretty much up shit creek….”

Clearly, I’m a real baggage-free catch. What woman wouldn’t want me?

But I think maybe I could like this girl. She’s cute as hell. She has a great smile and kind eyes. She’s an amazing dancer. Her favorite book is Dostoevsky’s The Idiot. She loves poetry. Her skin is amazingly soft. I don’t usually react to people that quickly – but I had butterflies when I first met her, I had major butterflies last night, and I have butterflies today wondering if she’ll still call.

Obviously, if a woman is turned off by the very fact that I have children, she’s clearly not the woman for me. I am not wholly defined by my children, or by my role as their mother. I am a strong, intelligent, bold, funny, talented woman with so much to offer to a relationship – but my children (and my past) are a part of the package. I know this, and the people I am really meant to date will recognize this as well.

At the very least I think I’ve met someone who could be a fun friend, and a kick-ass dance partner, but I’m hoping I get the chance to see if it might be a little something more.

I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.*

*On that note. God – I can’t believe I’m dating again. I last dated when I was 21. 21 years old, people. I was a babe in the woods. And I was dating boys. I’m 32 now. That was a LONG time ago and this is a whole new world, and we’re talking about a really cute girl here. I don’t remember how to do this. When do I call? Do I wait for her to call? Will she call? Shit. I think I’m too old for this craziness.

I have to admit that I swiped this video from the inimitable Dorothy, but I can hardly be blamed for not resisting.

First, it’s part of the speechless campaign, second – it involves at least the suggestion of lesbian action, and third – have I mentioned the fact that I’ve had a mad crush on Maggie Gyllenhaal for like, ever and ever? Because I have, and I do, and I lurve her.

Enjoy.

On a lighter note….

A few months ago I came across a fantastic blog written by a woman named Kathryn and immediately felt right at home. The blog, Recovering Straight Girl, was the first that I had found to directly address my current reality, that of coming out after marriage and motherhood. Not only does she address it, but she does so with humor and grace and realism. I was hooked right away.

While exploring her blog that first day, my friend J. (another RSG, about a year ahead of me in the whole process) and I came across Kathryn’s Recovering Straight Girls 12 Steps to Becoming a Lesbian and we just about killed ourselves laughing as we read the steps aloud. I just had to ask permission to post the list here.

Just to make this a little more personal, I’ll include my personal commentary below each step (consider it a warm up for an upcoming post – where I intend to talk about sex)!

The Recovering Straight Girls Twelve Steps to Becoming a Lesbian (reposted with permission from the author)

1. We admit that we are powerless over being lesbians; that our lives have become unmanageable trying and pretending to be straight.

Um. Yeah that. I made a damn good (32 year) attempt of it though.

2. We have come to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity; it is the power of pussy.

Um. Yeah that too. Powerful stuff, that.

Enough said.

3. We have made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to being with women, and have made that shift by actually engaging in hot sexual relations with a woman more than once.

Well, not more than one woman, but definitely more than once. And definitely, definitely, definitely hot.

Did I mention it was hot?

4. We have made a list of all the men that we slept with; accepted that straight sex is mediocre sex, and forgave ourselves for wasting so many precious years sleeping with men. We have come to realize, accept and willingly expect that orgasms do happen (over and over again,) and that they are a normal part of sexual relations. We have also realized accepted, and now expect that sex last longer than ten minutes. Note: Some personal training is required in this area to build up an endurance level.

For this one I am hoping that a mental list will do. Funny, I wouldn’t have categorized most of my (straight) sexual experiences as mediocre sex…I always thought I rather enjoyed it. However, having experienced the reality of being with a woman – well…lets just say everything is relative.

“orgasms do happen (over and over again)”
Funny that. I always assumed I just didn’t have it in me to be a multi-orgasmic woman. Now I know better. Not only are there more of them, but seriously people – they are ***this*** big and ***that*** long. No joke.

“now expect that sex last longer than ten minutes”
Seriously, this has been the most surprising and lovely aspect of my sexual experience thus far. It is so fluid, and not goal-oriented. Truly, all of lesbian sex fits under the heterosexual definition of foreplay, so it just rolls and spirals and spins to the edge and back again for as long as you want it to. For all you straight gals out there, at the risk of being presumptuous and rude… I gotta say, you don’t know what you’re missing.

5. We have admitted to a higher power, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs pretending to be straight. In other words: we came out, and realized that we would rather have dental work done than have sex with another guy.

Well, I have to say that there is no such thing as using the term “came out” in the past tense – because it is such an ongoing process (more on that in another post as well). The coming out process is really life long, I think.

As far as the dental work bit, well – as strange as it seems even to me, I kinda have to agree. Yikes. I really must be gay, ‘cause I hate the dentist.

6. We have made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves and with much certainty and without hesitation, cut our nails, and very possibly our hair. Note: During this step, some recovering straight women may want to also get a tattoo or piercing, this is entirely a matter of choice. A tattoo or piercing is not a requirement as of this writing.

Cut nails – check
I keep waiting for S. to notice and ask why my nails are always so short after years of having them longish, but either he is oblivious or he has decided not to ask. Note: if you’re wondering why the short nails – just think on it for a bit. Rather obvious, no?

Cut hair – check
However, I rather think my hair cut had more to do with wanting to be as cool as Victoria Beckham than it did wanting to embrace Lesbianism. However, there is a page ripped out of a catalogue stuck to my fridge of a woman with short-short hair. Every now and then I look at it and wonder if I would have the guts, and if it would look good…

Tattoo – almost check
I’ve been meaning to have this done for months and months though, way back when I was still deep in denial, so not sure if this counts. However, it is this journey that helped me finally decide what tattoo to get. This will be my second tattoo– so it’s not entirely a RSG thing.

Piercing – nope
My ears are not even pierced anymore. I can’t imagine I’m going to go out and get pierced…although stranger things have happened (like me finally coming out of the closet, for instance). Side note: I am WAY into piercings in other girls though. Both of the women I have kissed have had lip piercings and I have to say, it adds a certain something to the experience! Hmmm…happy memories.

7. We are entirely ready to have the higher goddess remove all these defects of being straight: To prove it, we have gone to at least one lesbian bar, lesbian dance and/or lesbian event (preferable a lesbian folk singer); we have purchased CDs from Melissa Etheridge, KD Lang, and/or The Indigo Girls; and we have acquired at least one item with a rainbow on it.

Lesbian Bar: check, check, check, check.
I think I’ve been to more bars since September than I have in the past decade. It’s like college all over again, except with more girls and no sweaty football players! We’ve actually got a decent number of places to choose from here, although most of them are fairly ghetto. Last night we went to a Lesbian country bar, where I line danced and two-stepped the night away with gay girls from 21 to (I swear) 65!

Lesbian Event: check
Rainbow Festival, and several lesbian folk singers actually. I’ll attend my first Pride in April and hopefully road trip to San Diego Pride in July. I flirted with the idea of going to Dinah Shore with a friend this year, but don’t think I’m up for that yet! Coming up: Tegan and Sara in April, and I heard a rumor of Melissa Ferrick coming to town as well…

Music – check.
Funny story. I was talking to J’s girlfriend T one day about music. We talked about our musical likes and dislikes – including when we discovered certain favorites. Upon hearing that I had been listening to Melissa Etheridge, Indigo Girls, Ani Difranco and Tori Amos since college, T looked at me in disbelief and said in a most incredulous voice, “And you didn’t know you were gay?”!

Rainbows – check
Canadian AND American pride magnets, and my girls insist on keeping a pride flag cling-on in their bedroom window!

8. We are removing our straight shortcomings: We no longer refer to our straight friends who are women as our girlfriends, and reserve that term only for women that we are sleeping with. We have accepted that hiking is a part of life, (although secretly it can be disguised as shopping,) we have purchased a sports bra, (although we know that it’s only to be worn while playing sports.)

I have noticed that I have been more aware of using the term ‘girlfriend’ – although I would never have called the woman I was seeing/sleeping with my girlfriend (called her my not-girlfriend actually) so it didn’t seem to matter as much. I am sure that once I have an actual girlfriend I will be much more careful about how I use the term.

Not so sure about the hiking bit, as I enjoyed that even when I was playing straight. Shopping I am always up for! Sports bras…yes – only during sports. I am NOT a fan of the uniboob.

9. We have traded our magazine subscriptions to Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Elle, and Marie Clare; for new subscriptions to Curve, Girlfriends, and The Advocate.

Well, the only pre-gay magazine subscription I had was to “Lucky” (and that was only because someone bought it for me) although I admit to buying more than my share of “In Style” and “Marie Claire” in the past. I did buy a copy of “Curve” a few months back – but I think I can make up for my lack of subscriptions with my memberships to websites like “Our Chart” and how many LGBTQ related businesses/organizations/people I have on myspace friends list!

10. We have continued to take personal inventory and when we are wrong promptly admit. We are open to guidance from our lesbian sisters on things related to: the proper placement of hand stamps at lesbian nightclubs, womens basketball (especially the womens NCAA tournament,) camping, baseball cap etiquette, dogs, cats, and beer.

Hand stamp placement? Huh? If we’re talking sports I will need plenty of guidance. I’d only willingly attend a basketball game if it was with a bunch of fun friends, or if I was purposely going to scout for women! Baseball cap…I don’t think so. Beer…not for me.

11. We have sought through prayer, meditation or deep reflection ways to first access, then fine tune our newly realized Gaydar in order to improve our conscious contact with lesbians. We then have:
a. Successfully recognized a lesbian and tried to make some kind of contact with her outside of a typical lesbian arena.
b. Been nodded at by another lesbian who recognized us, outside of a typical lesbian arena. Note: This is a very important, but very difficult task that may take a lot of practice before achieving. Do not be discouraged, do not give up!

Damn, but my gaydar sucks. Unless a chick an obvious butch or dyke (or is making out with another woman) I have to admit that I always have that “Is she or isn’t she?” question in my mind. That is the nice thing about a lesbian bar or gay event – at least the assumption of gayness is a relatively safe one!

a. Yes, yes, yes – I did this….however, was not successful at making eye contact. I’m giving myself credit for trying.

b. Eek – not so much. I swear, if I hear one more time “You look like a straight girl”, I just might buzz my hair and start wearing ties and big black boots. I think the only way I would get recognized outside of a ‘typical lesbian arena’ is if (not to be indelicate) I had my tongue stuck down another woman’s throat, or if I took to wrapping myself up in a pride flag every time I left the house. Heck, my car (with its “Legalize Love” bumper sticker and pride decal) is more obviously gay than I am! That’s the kicker of being femme, I think, to most people femme = straight.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to other straight women, near and far, in the city, in the country, and in the suburbs (especially the suburbs,) and to practice these principles in all our lesbian affairs.

Conversion/Recruitment Attempts – Check.
Ask my straight friends – I keep trying to tell them how silly they are being with this insistence on heterosexuality. Heck, if I had known what I was missing it sure wouldn’t have taken me this long! Plus, eventually I want to earn a toaster oven.

So there you have it. All you other RSG’s out there, lets hear it from you too! Leave your commentary in my comments section, or ask Kathryn if you can post this on your own blog.

I recently began contributing to multi-author blog called The Lesbian Lifestyle, posting excerpts taken from my posts here on awakenings. They are currently running the annual “Lesbian Blog of the Year” contest and are accepting nominations. Checking out the list of those already nominated I’ve added a few great looking blogs to my blogroll to check out when I have more time. What’s more, I actually received one nomination yesterday, which was a nice little pat on the back considering I have not been writing long (thanks MLC!).

So head on over, check out the diverse collection of writings and fabulous authors and nominate a blog or two while you’re there!

I have to stand up now, unflinchingly and resolutely, and say yes, I did this thing. I cannot hide from it. I cannot deny it. I cannot escape it. Why did I do it? Why did I betray everything that was solid and real, for something that is ultimately as intangible and elusive as the wind?

“So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song
So they can tell me I was wrong…”

You want to know the truth? You want to know the part of this where my guilt takes root and grows until it threatens to overwhelm, my truest confession…

I don’t regret it. I cannot regret it. I will not regret it. I cannot even fathom speaking of regret because it felt like everything in my life had spiraled to that exact point in time. It spiraled to a point as sharp as the blade of a sword that sliced into my skin and left the thinnest line of blood-red desire. Spiraled till the edges blurred and my head was spinning and I could see with a clarity that was so brilliant that it was blinding.

I did it because I NEEDED it. I needed it like I had never experienced need before in my life.

[And, when it all comes down to it, doesn’t that sound like the biggest crock-of-shit-justification for bad behavior that you’ve ever heard?]

I made a choice that wasn’t ever a choice at all. I was in the most egocentric, selfish, self-centered place I have ever been. I needed, I needed, I needed. And my need came at the expense of his heart. My wholeness at the expense of his brokenness, of OUR brokenness. There is no justification or excuse or explanation that could even begin to cover it, and I have to own it. I have to own it like I’ve never owned anything before in my life.

“But they weren’t there beneath your stare,
And they weren’t stripped ’till they were bare
Of any bindings from the world outside that room.
And they weren’t taken by the hand and led through fields
Of naked land where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away…
So I couldn’t say “no”.”

Truly, I couldn’t say no. If I am going to a place of deepest honesty (and that is what I promised myself I would do when I started this blog) I never really, truly considered saying no. Not once we were in that space, with nothing between us but that spinning, spiraling, all-consuming need and want.

In that moment, every should-have, could-have, would-have disappeared until there was only me… and her.

Her.

I have not written much about her, about this person that I didn’t even know a few months ago and who has now become a forever part of the narrative of my life.

HER.

Perhaps it is too immediate, too entangled, too NOW to write of at this point. Perhaps it won’t ever feel safe to share. Somehow, although I feel comfortable sharing the most intimate details of this transition here, what is between her and I (this undefined, unconfirmed, uncertain something) feels too intimate, too delicate, too fragile to release right now.

But what can I say about it without feeling I am sharing what should not be shared? What can I say that honors what this has been for me, without glossing over the less-than-pretty bits?

It is glimpses of potential and wisdom imparted and lessons learned. It is tenderness and frustration and protectiveness and expectations and growth and softness and electricity and never feeling truly on balance where she is concerned. It is build up, and it is let down. It is hope-against-hope, and the universe telling me to stay still, sit tight, remain open. It is me trying hard to listen and learn and just ride it to the end. It is intense attitude and occasionally unguarded eyes full of all the secrets in the whole wide world. It is putting up walls and tearing them down, it is softness and it is toughness, fighting not to care and diving into attachment. It is laughing and it is tears and it is struggling to understand. It is a beautiful paradox, and a painful one. It is everything standing in the way, and nothing between us at all.

The only certainty about what it is, is actually more about what it isn’t. It is not forever, or even for much longer – it was created on a foundation of understood impermanence. She leaves this place in a few short weeks, not planning to return. She has her own journey, her own places to go, her own battles to fight.

So, she will leave, and I will stay. And no matter if I one day wish I didn’t, I will always carry a part of her with me. And honestly, in spite of it all, right now that feels really, really good.

Complete Lyrics
They Weren’t There – Missy Higgins

You breathed infinity into my world
And time was lost up in a cloud and in a whirl.
We dug a hole in the cool grey earth and lay there for the night.
Then you said, “wait for me we’ll fly the wind,
We’ll grow old and you’ll be stronger without him” but oh,
Now my world is at your feet. I was lost and I was found,
But I was alive and now I’ve drowned.
So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song
So they can tell me I was wrong…

But they weren’t there beneath your stare,
And they weren’t stripped ’till they were bare of
Any bindings from the world outside that room.
And they weren’t taken by the hand
And led through fields of naked land
Where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away…
So I couldn’t say “no”.

You sighed and I was lost in you, weeks could’ve past for all I knew.
You were there blanket of the over-world and so I couldn’t say,
I wouldn’t say “no”. But they all said, “you’re too young to even know,
Just don’t let it grow and you’ll be stronger without him”
But oh, now, my world is at your feet. I was lost and I was found,
But I was alive and now I’ve drowned.
So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song
So they can tell me I was wrong…

But they weren’t there beneath your stare,
And they weren’t stripped ’till they were bare
Of any bindings from the world outside that room.
And they weren’t taken by the hand and led through fields
Of naked land where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away…

But they weren’t there beneath your stare,
And they weren’t stripped ’till they were bare
Of any bindings from the world outside that room.
And they weren’t taken by the hand and led through fields
Of naked land where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away…
So I couldn’t say “no”.

Like so many others, I was so deeply disappointed last week to learn that the Matthew Shepard Act had been dropped from the final version of the Defense Authorization Bill. 

I clearly remember learning about the brutal hate crime that resulted in Matthew’s death.  I was a year out of college, planning my wedding, and was feeling as if I had the world at my feet.  I was still deeply in denial about my own sexuality, but can recall following the news reports with a sense of horror and grief.  Reading the details of what this kind-eyed boy, just a year younger than me, had gone through…it was, and is, beyond my ability to comprehend.

If it had passed, “The Matthew Shepard Act would have expand the 1969 United States federal hate-crime law to include crimes motivated by a victim’s actual or perceived gender, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability.”*   Seems pretty straightforward right?

It has been nine years since Matthew’s death.  Nine years, and despite the efforts of Matthew’s family and other committed activists, we still do not have federal protection for crimes perpetrated against individuals or groups based on their sexual orientation or gender identity.  Why?

There are many reasons, some of which I can even wrap my brain around politically, that the Act was dropped from the defense bill.  But even if we can accept the reasons, it does not minimize the fact that this represents a loss (or at the very least a failure to achieve necessary and long deserved progress) for the entire LGBTQ community.

The news that this act was dropped from the bill, especially coming so close on the heels of the dropping of transgender protection from ENDA, is hard to accept.  So many people fought so hard for both of those pieces of legislation.  So many people needed the protection they would have and should have provided.  So many people are left vulnerable and legally and politically defenseless by the failure of our political system to move themselves beyond a process so entrenched in personal prejudice and theocratic ideology.

Locally, there have been some small, but not insignificant, steps forward lately.  It is hard to wholeheartedly celebrate these victories when they are followed closely in the news by the story of the third anti-gay attack this year in the city of Scottsdale, but celebrate we must.  We have to celebrate, to push forward, to sing the victories from our rooftops and to fight loudly and determinedly against the setbacks.

When we talk about activism, about working to create real and necessary change, it is easy to get fired up and energized by the cause.  It is also all too easy to get beaten down and to feel as if all the efforts are pointless and that real progress will always continue to elude us.   By their very nature, activism and burnout go hand in hand, but when a fight is worth fighting there will always be people to dust off the disappointment, pick up the pieces and keep moving forward. 

I cannot imagine how Matthew’s parents must have felt upon hearing the news that the legislation they had worked so long and hard for – the act that bore their son’s name – had been dropped from the bill.  But still, they refuse to give up.

“Make no mistake; this is a small triumph of process over principle.  We are dedicated to redoubling our efforts next year to achieve our vision of a hate-free America that truly includes everyone.  This has never simply been about Matthew Shepard and our family, this legislation is a gift delayed but never forgotten for all America’s families.” ~ Judy and Dennis Shepard.

Their efforts exemplify the belief that the only way to counter hatred, prejudice and ignorance is with passion and determination and by holding onto the belief that it is possible to create change. With their work, Judy and Denis Shepard are saying that the legacy of hatred must never be resignation, or disillusionment or cynicism.

Indeed, if there is to be hope of creating real change, the legacy of hatred must always be love.

* HR 1592, the House bill

Missy Higgins: Where I Stood

Where I Stood”

I don’t know what I’ve done
Or if I like what I’ve begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it’s all or none

There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening

‘Cos I don’t know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
‘Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you ain’t leaving without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside

‘Cos I don’t know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
‘Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

And I won’t be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do

‘Cos I don’t know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
‘Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood