Again and again, we hear the amazement in the voices of newscasters about “the rapid pace of change” in the nation’s attitudes about same-sex marriage.
That’s undeniable, but it is also true that countless people have worked for years – even decades – to make this day a reality.
All week, I have been thinking about them – about the people who stood up when it would have been more comfortable to sit down; who spoke out, revealed their true selves, even at the risk of losing their jobs, their families, even their lives.
For these activists, change hardly happened overnight.
Mary Wiseman endured everything from death threats to her children being bullied at school.
“It has been a long, hard slog,” conceded Wiseman, a Montgomery County Common Pleas Court judge and the first openly gay elected judge in Ohio. “It involved millions of people who have made contributions big and small, and it’s great to see those efforts come to fruition.”
When I started writing columns about gay rights in 1997, I was deluged with hate mail, even the occasional threat. I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of frustration, of futility.
If I felt such despair, how much more so did the people who were living it every day?
This day hardly seemed possible in 1999, when Wiseman, a newly-minted Dayton City Commissioner, introduced a city ordinance that would extend the city’s anti-discrimination laws to gays and lesbians.
The seemingly modest proposal prompted protests and even death threats that forced Wiseman to accept police protection at the home she shared with her partner, Michelle Riley.
“Please don’t do this to our family,” Riley begged. “The price is too high.”
“We have no choice but to do this,” Wiseman replied.
Both women proved to be right. “We did pay a very high price,” Riley acknowledged. “But we wouldn’t go backward and we are stronger as a family because of it.”
Wiseman was prepared for whatever might come her way; she wasn’t prepared for her family to suffer: “We struggled with the kids being bullied because they had two moms. That is the worst-case scenario, your kids being picked on because of who you are. It was heart-wrenching. There are times when it has been agonizing to be out in front of the spears and arrows, but I have always been blessed to have such an incredibly supportive family.”
In 2004, Wiseman and Riley wed in Massachusetts, the first state to allow same-sex marriage. That same year, Ohio voters approved the so-called Defense of Marriage Act, banning same-sex marriage, by a nearly two-thirds margin.
These were dubbed the “values voters,” as if people fighting for equal justice and equal dignity were a hedonistic lot only seeking personal gratification.
“I was born in Ohio, but we would seriously consider moving if the state wouldn’t give me the status of marriage and dignity under the law,” Wiseman said. “That’s really deflating, to think about moving out of the state that I love to make sure my family is protected.”
Recalled Mary Ellen Batiuk of Kettering, “The 2004 DOMA vote was devastating. We were married in our eyes. When someone says that you’re illegal — that you have no right to be who you are — that is a big blow.” She married Joyce Dean last year in Westfield, N.Y., and now they, too, plan to stay in Ohio.
LGBT families and their allies are simultaneously stunned by the speed of change and cognizant of what it took to get there. Wiseman noted that the movement is hardly in its infancy; it started with the Stonewall riots in 1969. “I never thought I would see this in my lifetime,” she said. “And I was never so glad to be wrong about something.”
Wiseman hopes that people on both sides of the issue will find healing in Justice Anthony Kennedy’s decision: “He noted that we recognize people of good faith can have a difference of opinion. If someone has a deeply, firmly embedded religious belief, it is important to honor that. But it can’t be held publicly in the secular realm.”
On June 26, Riley posted an emotional Facebook tribute to Wiseman: “Thank you, to you, our family, and all other gay rights activists for the sacrifices made to bring us to this emotional day. Death threats, spit at, shouldered, police protection at our home, changing of schools to escape our children being bullied, having those that hate, pray over us while inaccurately assuming that we are without faith or do not believe in or love God. Thank you for leading us on an incredible journey. We are among the strongest of families because of your leadership and vision. Your courage is my inspiration.”
All that day I had felt so overjoyed, such a sense of a burden being lifted.
Riley’s words reminded me of the price that had been paid by so many — simply because they had no other choice but to do this.
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