From Walmart with Love

I never would have guessed Walmart would give me hope. I never really expected it from one of the saddest shopping places I know. A designer boutique, perhaps, or one of those specialty shops with a focus. Yeah. They could give a guy hope. But Walmart? That place we go because it’s cheap, not stylish, with the smelly bathrooms and scuffed-up floors?

Well. I guess it happens sometimes.

701 Words to Remember

“More Than a Moment”

It’s not that I don’t want to get married
it’s simply the fact that I can’t
but what would it matter even if I did
when I know how they all end anyways
Well I guess they don’t all end
but you know what I mean when I say
that most of them do go anyways.

Family Values are Under Attack

That’s right, folks, you’ve heard it first from me: Family values are under attack. People across the nation are fighting for the right for same-sex couples to wed, to adopt children, to raise families with love and compassion–and our family values are under attack.

You might think I’m on the wrong side of the fence here, but I assure you, you’d be mistaken.

An Open Letter to the People of North Carolina

To My Fellow North Carolinians;

I am writing to you in concern of the upcoming Special Session on Monday, September 12, 2011, to vote on Senate Bill 106 and House Bill 777, both entitled Defense of Marriage, which seek to amend our state constitution so that marriages between one man and one woman are the only legally recognized domestic relationship in North Carolina.

It is my belief, however, that these bills should not be passed.

Since They Say Size Doesn’t Matter

Years ago I heard about the miniWORDS competition, which was (and might still be, I’m not sure) a competition to write super-short flash fiction to win large prizes of money, recognition, and fame! I entered, but never won. Nonetheless, some small words are worth digging up and sharing, aren’t they? Little bits to think about, a moment in time to take another’s breath away.

So let’s get going, shall we? Size doesn’t matter, or so they say, but is it really true? Why don’t you tell me!

D is for Division

D is for a lot of things. In part that’s why I’ve taken so long to write this next installment in the ABCs of GLBT: There’s too many options. I might as well go through a few them along the way. It’ll all make my point in the end. I promise.

D is for Diligence. Since, in life, that’s what you need: You need to be diligent to get anything done. The fight for equal rights has been long and arduous so far, and it’s likely to stay long and arduous until it’s finally won. Without diligence, we–the GLBT community and the oft underappreciated armies of our straight allies–would not be where we are today. Without diligence, we won’t ever get where we want to be, either.

For Just Us

I had a whole post planned out…and then I got caught up in TV and header designs and talking with friends and forgot all about it. But that’s no reason not be thankful–in fact, TVs and headers and friends are all great things to be thankful for (and I’m thankful that I’ve got the opportunity to spend my time in such ways, when I know many in this world sadly do not), but it’s something else I’d like to be thankful for today. Something that seems to affect just us in the GLBT community, but I believe will affect all of us for the better.

7. I’m thankful for justice.

Yes. I’m thankful for just ice, because when it’s hot outside, and you want to be cold inside, you need one thing, and one thing only: just ice.

Or not. You need a glass and water and air conditioning, a fan, something extra to fan yourself with, and the shade of a nice leafy tree to lie under. But all these things, coupled with the bit of ice, come together to cool you off. And in the same way, a lot of forces have come together recently in the pursuit of justice, and I know I’m indebted to each of them, even if I don’t know any of them.

You’ve probably heard this already: Yesterday in California, Proposition 8 was voted unconstitutional. And it should be! How can anyone vote away the rights of another and feel neither shame nor regret but instead pride in their own prejudice? Love is a family value, and family is a traditional value–and I don’t understand those who say that allowing people in love to marry each other will ruin such traditional values as these! As many a t-shirt has said, hate is not a family value.

I’d like a family of my own one day, but I suppose saying a “family of my own” is rather vague in the first place. I’ve already got a family. My nuclear family, my extended family, my Phi Theta Kappa and GSA families, my Ambassador family, my NTWF family, my synagogue family, my school family, my best friends who are sometimes closer than family. All of these people are my family. But there’s still an illusion to this world that until you’re the head of the household–or at least co-head, as those married should be–it’s not truly “your own” family. I want to be married someday. I want to have children some day.

And these people, fueled by hate, are fighting to take that future away from me!

I can only stand and fight so much on my own. I have not the power nor the strength to tackle every battle there is to be fought. But thankfully, as seen in Perry vs. Schwarzenegger, there are plenty men and women as capable and then much more capable than I am in fighting this fight, and with their help, and with all the little things I can do, and with the help of the just and righteous worldwide, what’s right will in the end win out. And remember, all of you who are the S in GSA, it’s not for just us, it’s for justice.

Gay Doesn’t Always Mean Happy

Class: ENG 111 Expository Writing

Assignment: Write a concept essay on a controversial issue.

Grade: 98/100 (A)

Date: November 2009

Halakhah and Homosexuality

Jacob is an Orthodox Jew. He thinks Benjamin is attractive, but because the Bible says homosexuality is a sin, he resists his impulses and tries to find his girlfriend Sarah more appealing. Meanwhile, Sam, a Conservative Jew from a nearby congregation, is studying to become a rabbi with the encouragement of his family and his boyfriend Dan. How is it that these two Jewish men lead such similar, yet drastically different lives? What causes Jacob to hide his homosexual feelings but allows Sam to live openly gay?

Jewish law, known as halakhah, is a uniting force among all Jews; however, what stands to be halakhically acceptable can vary greatly between different branches of Judaism. To understand how these two men living so closely to one another can be affected by Jewish law in such different ways today, we must turn back time to the dawn of Judaism and see how its system of law has developed and evolved ever since.

Judaism traces its roots to the time of the first patriarch, Abraham, who is estimated to have lived in the year 1800 BCE; however, the earliest historical record of Abraham’s descendants, then known as the Israelites, does not appear before 1200 BCE. Judaism’s main religious text is the Torah, or the Five Books of Moses in the Old Testament. Additionally, there is an oral Torah compiled in the fifth century that is known as the Talmud and includes multiple levels of commentary on the Torah and its laws. There is no single Jewish document more concerned with Jewish law than the Shulchan Arukh, “the set table,” a code of law written by Joseph Caro in the sixteenth century.

It is from these texts that Jewish law is derived. Known in Hebrew as halakhah, which comes from the verb “to walk,” Jewish law is literally “the path which one walks.” Jewish law governs every part of a Jew’s life, from the food they eat to their business affairs to the people they’re allowed to marry (and the people they’re not allowed to marry, as in Jacob’s and Sam’s cases), and even what roles a husband and wife should play in that marriage. Jewish law is broken into two categories: Halakhah d’oraita comprises the 613 commandments written in the Torah, while halakhah d’rabbanan refers to the laws enacted by Jewish sages and rabbis, beginning with the Talmud and continuing into modern times.

There are three categories of rabbinic law: Gezeirot are laws enacted to build a fence around the Torah; that is, to prevent one from accidentally violating one of the Torah’s 613 commandments. Takkanot are laws unrelated to Biblical laws that have been put into place for the welfare of the community. One such example of a ninth century takkanah is the law forbidding polygyny (taking multiple wives), which was allowed in the Torah but forbidden by the Catholic church in medieval Europe, under whose legislation Jews were ultimate subjected. The last category of halakhah is known as minhag and includes all the customs that have been ingrained into Jewish life even if not written as an official part of halakhah.

When it comes to homosexuality, Jewish law is both d’oraita and d’rabbanan: In Leviticus 18:22, the Bible explicitly says “Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abhorrence.” This led medieval rabbis to enact a gezeirah proclaiming it illegal for two gay men to be even physically close, lest it lead them to breaking the Torah’s commandment.

Although halakhah aims to govern every aspect of a Jew’s personal and communal life, in today’s world where there exists no wholly Jewish government (even Israel’s government is riddled with influences of the secular), halakhah has historically been forced to be subordinate to the law of the state in which it is being determined, as has already been seen by the halakhic outlawing of polygyny in the ninth century. This often puts Jews under multiple legal systems, such as Jacob and Sam, residents of New York City, who are subject not only to halakhah, but also to New York state laws and federal laws of the United States of America.

This modern juxtaposition of religious and secular legal systems requires us to compare and contrast the legal positions of both. As has already been stated, traditional halakhah asserts that homosexual acts, including but not limited to sex between two males and same-sex marriages, are explicitly forbidden. New York law, however, differs on both accounts: New York sodomy laws were repealed in 1980 and removed completely in 2000. Furthermore, although same-sex marriages are not yet legal in New York, same-sex marriages performed elsewhere are recognized by state marriage laws. Observant Jews, however, typically follow the halakhic ruling when stricter than that of the governing legislation.

Jewish law differs not just from state law, but also within Judaism, which is why we see Jacob’s and Sam’s responses to being gay as drastically different as they are. Orthodox Jews like Jacob preserve halakhah and Jewish tradition in their most authentic—and thereby most restrictive—forms. In Orthodox communities, Jewish dietary laws are strictly followed, men and women are still separated while praying, and a gay man’s only option is celibacy or so-called reparative therapy. His goal typically remains the same: to have a wife and children.

In the most liberal branches of Judaism—the Reform, Reconstructionist, and Renewal movements—homosexuality has almost become a non-issue it is so widely accepted. According to the movement overviews compiled by Jewish Mosaic: The National Center for Gender and Sexual Diversity, all three movements have ordained gay and lesbian rabbis since the nineties and have universally supported same-sex civil marriages for just as long.

Conservative Jews like Sam have been caught in the middle of such extremes. In 1992, the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards (CJLS), who decide halakhah in the Conservative movement, passed the Consensus Statement on Homosexuality, which welcomed gays into the movement while adhering to the precedent that gays could not become rabbis or be married under Jewish law. It also stated that the decision of whether or not gays could serve on synagogue committees or lead religious services was to be determined by individual rabbis. In 2006, the CJLS revisited the issue and passed three conflicting responses, two favoring the traditional standpoint while the third supporting a greater welcome for gays in the Conservative movement, once more leaving the decision of which path to follow up to individual communities. With these new laws in place, the doors to the rabbinate were finally opened for gay and lesbian Conservative Jews and many rabbinical colleges changed their policies to reflect this.

But what would life be like if Jacob and Sam weren’t Jewish, but belonged some other faith? If they belonged to a liberal Protestant denomination, they might both live as comfortably as Sam does, but if part of a conservative Protestant denomination or Catholicism, they’d still be living like Jacob is. If Muslim, they could even be punished by death.

In conclusion, we can easily see that halakhah has been around since the birth of Judaism nearly four thousand years ago and has continued to evolve ever since. Jacob may continue to struggle with being gay while Sam rejoices in his acceptance into a renowned Jewish seminary, but despite the differences in how they interpret traditional halakhah, Jewish law still connects them to each other and to Jews everywhere around the world.

Addendum: Since writing this essay, I’ve learned that many gay and lesbian Orthodox Jews, although still subscribing to the laws of the Torah, are open about being gay and no longer pursue heterosexual relationships that would ultimately cause pain for both marriage partners. Nonetheless, the openness of these individuals varies greatly from person to person, and although some are comfortable having homosexual relationships, others are not. With something as personal as sexuality, no one standard can be set upon all people and be expected to apply to each of them equally. Hopefully, however, this trend signals a movement toward a more accepting Jewish community, for all Jews, whether Orthodox or otherwise.

(For those interested in reading more, a works cited list is available.)

The Wedding Cake

Date: March 2010

Prompt: Write a short story using the image “the wedding cake in the middle of the road” (About.com February 2010 Creative Writing Prompt).

Comments: I wrote this in fifteen minutes to help kickstart my writing gears since, due to the responsibilities of an intense semester in school, I’ve not written anything substantial in a while. This itself isn’t anything substantial, but at least it’s a start.

The story:

It wasn’t my idea to put the wedding cake in the middle of the road. It just sorta ended up there by accident. See, we were driving too fast, and the back was open, and…

Whoops. Wrong story. This one’s far more comical, and ten times as cynical. But don’t take my word for it. Just keep reading. You’ll either be amused, or abused, or perhaps off put. It’s hard to say sometimes. Life’s just crazy like that.

The wedding started at sundown. The rain was coming down, the clouds were piling up, and all the guests were crowded in the middle of the house like a bunch of sardines in a tin can. Wait, that’s a little too cliched. They were packed like crushed tuna in water. Same taste, really, but the smell’s slightly different, like rotten eggs and gas leaks. Anyways.

Jason was groom number one. Fin was groom number two. I was the honorary bridesmaid (the term “groomsman” didn’t seem fitting for groom number one’s younger sister, but whatever, I didn’t really care). They were adamant to uphold the tradition of not seeing each other on the wedding day, and that placed me right in the middle of the mess: On top of the weather, I had to play telephone. I’m shaking my head right now, even if you can’t see it. I’m just like that.

This is a boring story at first. I try my best, but I’m no storyteller. You’d have to go to Fin for that. He’s won a few literary contests, got a local poetry prize a few years back. I don’t think he’s that good, but I’m not his arguable fanbase, so it’s a biased opinion. Anyways, where was I? Yeah, I was playing telephone. No need to go through all that again. Let’s just skip to the fun part, shall we? It’s easier that way. Take out the details, leave the fun stuff. Heh. It works for the movies.

The hot tub overflowed. My lovely little cousin-to-be (he’s seven, the brat) decided to grab the laundry soap and pour the box in. I could’ve killed him. If not for the house of witnesses, I probably would have. Mom told me not to be angry, he’s just a little kid, but I could see the evil in him since I met him last Christmas (Fin’s family’s Catholic; ours isn’t even Christian; that’s another story just waiting to happen–I can’t decide yet if it’ll be a comedy or something a bit more Shakespearean). I think his parents–my cousin’s, I mean; his name’s Avery–believe in possession or something, because he certainly seems possessed to me. Once, in the kitchen, I saw him drinking out of the carton, and his normally hazel eyes glowed the eeriest green I have ever seen in the light of the frigerator. It was disgusting, yet equally intriguing. A dash of enigma usually does that.

Then the dash became overseasoned (and forgive my mixing metaphors; I never was a good English student, though I’m starting to think I’m hungry–first the fish and now this?). The wedding cake, that’s where I’m going with this. I’m trying very hard not to forget, but I’m a bit clumsy sometimes, and I’m still trying to think of a way to exorcise Avery without, number one, killing him, or number two, ruining whatever’s left of the wedding that hasn’t been washed away in the rain already.

This really is going nowhere, isn’t it?

Let’s skip the hot tub and get straight to the point, shall we? With nothing better to do, we had our pastor/preacher/ordainable person stand on the window sill so everyone could press themselves against the walls of the living room and form something of an aisle. Lovely little Avery was the honorary flower boy (the surprising thing here isn’t that he enjoyed it, but that the grooms had to preface every position with the word “honorary” like some restaurant’s house special–it’s only special because they say it is, not because of some inherent quality or anything). Anyways: flower boy. Wedding cake. Gotcha.

Apparently, the one marrying them (as in: making them married) was allergic to the flowers (see, told you Avery’s evil) and when the lovely little wretched monster tossed some petals in his general direction, he sneezed, losing his balance and flying backwards, through the window, through the wind, through the rain, finally landing on his back in the mud and grass.

No one said a word. You could’ve cut the silence with a knife. Or perhaps with an enraged groom rushing down the aisle, leaning out the window to see if the marry-er was alright, and then falling out himself. The two screams and grunts of pain that followed could’ve won ten thousand on America’s Funniest.

The ambulance came. Avery was crying in his mother’s lap, pretending like it had all been an accident, and I was stuck helping my father move the wedding cake back into the van to hopefully preserve it for Fin to get out of the hospital in a few days so we could finish the wedding. The rain had stopped by now, but unfortunately two things hadn’t: The road was still slick, and did I mention I got my clumsiness from my father?

I need not say more, I suppose. And that’s how the wedding cake ended up in the middle of the road.