My personal stories regarding gay marriage and civil unions
Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2015 5:51 pm
With the invalidation of all bans on same-sex marriage still fresh on everybody's mind, I figured that I would share a couple of experiences from my own life about the subject.
I start by taking you back to the summer of 2000, almost exactly one year before my first wife and I got married. I was in my final months of working part-time at Garden Ridge (recently renamed At Home) in Lexington, KY, to help pay for my college tuition as well as my drinking and smoking habits. One day, my immediate supervisor, Orvis Dean, gave invitations to all of the employees for his upcoming civil union to his high school sweetheart, James.
Now, Orvis and I had a frosty supervisor-employee relationship. I thought he was incompetent and disrespectful. He thought I was erratic and ambivalent to authority. Nonetheless, I refused to be disrespectful toward him, so I graciously accepted his invitation. Since the civil union was to take place on a Saturday night and I almost exclusively worked nights, he assured me that he would reschedule me to a morning shift so that I could attend. (The first and only nice thing he ever did for me!)
The big Saturday night finally arrived. I got out of work at 4:30 PM. I rushed home to Frankfort to change my clothes, pick up Amy, and grab the small kitchen appliance and towel set that we bought for the happy couple. (We most certainly did not buy these items at Garden Ridge. That would have been egregiously tacky.) We arrived at the Unitarian Universalist church at 6:15 PM, just fifteen minutes before the scheduled beginning of the ceremony. We dropped off our gifts at the appropriate table in the hallway, signed the guestbook, and took our seats inside the sanctuary.
The decor inside of the church was simple. The ceremony was just like a traditional wedding. There was music, the exchanging of the rings, the vows, and the kiss at the end. Of course, the minor difference was that the word "marriage" was replaced with "union" and the word "husband" was replaced with "partner". (As a side note, what set this ceremony apart from other ceremonies that I had attended in my lifetime was that the presiding minister at this church was a woman. It was my first time seeing a female minister after spending nearly a dozen years of my life at my father's Southern Baptist church--a religion that I think still excludes women from such leadership positions today.) The reception party afterward was also pretty generic. No fancy-pants hors d'oeuvres. No frou-frou drinks. Not even one single Cher song on the PA system. The food and drinks were typical reception fare, and the DJ played your basic pop mix of artists like Whitney Houston, Michael Bolton, and Luther Vandross. All in all, it was a very tasteful celebration. It wasn't all "queered up", as the media would have people believe. No rainbow flags, no drag queens lip-syncing "It's Raining Men", no party favors shaped like tiny phalluses.
Coming back to 2015. As all of the sane people on the Bored know, I have been a pastor for over five years now. One thing that I have never done as a pastor is officiate a domestic union of any kind. I had never been interested in the job before. Furthermore, I didn't know if I was automatically allowed to do so, if I had to have special training to do so, or whatever. Yesterday after our morning worship service, I asked my senior pastor about becoming a wedding official. Pastor Mark told me that it was fairly easy to get legal in the state of Ohio. All I had to do was file a request with the Ohio Secretary of State, complete with my credentials, and then he would issue me a license. So that's what I did this morning. Now it's just a matter of time before I will be qualified to marry people in the Buckeye State.
There's a reason why I mention all of this. Saturday afternoon, I got a call from Jerron Dean, an old homie of mine from up in Middletown who now lives in Dayton. (No relation to Orvis Dean. Just a wild coincidence.) Jerron asked me if I wouldn't mind coming up to Dayton to hang out with him for a few minutes. Of course, I would do anything for an old friend. So I made my way up to his new apartment to talk to him and another old friend, Tristan. Jerron and Tristan have been a couple for over ten years.
Editorial: I just want to say that I have no idea how Jerron and Tristan fell in love with each other, much less be together since high school. I could see it with Orvis and James, but not with Jerron and Tristan. Aside from being Black, going to the same schools, and knowing me personally, these two dudes have absolutely nothing in common!
--Jerron is 6'2". Tristan is 5'8".
--Jerron has two older siblings. Tristan is an only child.
--Jerron has feminine eyes and a soprano voice. Tristan looks and sounds like a gangsta.
--Jerron has cornrows. Tristan has waves.
--Jerron has two arms full of tattoos. Tristan's arms have never seen a spot of ink.
--Jerron loves football, but despises basketball. Tristan loves basketball, but despises football.
--Jerron listens to old-school R&B and can't stand rap. Tristan can't get enough of rap.
--Jerron drinks like a fish, but has never smoked anything in his lifetime. Tristan loves to smoke blunts and Black & Mild cigars (my favorite vices before I gave my life to God), but is a lifelong teetotaler.
--Jerron is a PlayStation man. Tristan is an Xbox man.
I don't personally know a couple more different than they are. They are like the gay Carville and Matalin. Actually, now that I think about it, they are the gay Carville and Matalin. Jerron is a Democrat and Tristan is a Republican. Opposites really do attract.
Anyway, Jerron and Tristan want to get married later this year and they asked me if they could have their wedding at my church. Not only that, they asked me if I would run the show. I told them that I would have to discuss it all with my superior... and that's what led to my conversation with Pastor Mark yesterday morning after church. He told me that Jerron and Tristan are more than welcome to get married at our church. Even though Black-majority churches in America have typically been against homosexuality over the years, the official stance at our Black-majority church (despite gay marriages being illegal in this state from 2004 until last week) has always been that any two consenting adults have the God-given right to love because God doesn't discriminate. Or as I once quipped behind the pulpit, "Gay people are free to be as miserable in a sexless marriage as straight people are because this is America and not Iran." So barring any executive orders from Gov. Kasich in an effort to pander to the base for the Republican nomination next year, this wedding is set for October to coincide with Tristan's 28th birthday. I will go out of my way to make sure my friend gets a birthday that he will never forget.
One final fact here. Tristan's last name is Martin. I also told Jerron and Tristan that, as a joke, they should both take the married name of Martin-Dean because it would confuse all of the old people. (Think about it for a couple of minutes and you'll get the joke.
)
I start by taking you back to the summer of 2000, almost exactly one year before my first wife and I got married. I was in my final months of working part-time at Garden Ridge (recently renamed At Home) in Lexington, KY, to help pay for my college tuition as well as my drinking and smoking habits. One day, my immediate supervisor, Orvis Dean, gave invitations to all of the employees for his upcoming civil union to his high school sweetheart, James.
Now, Orvis and I had a frosty supervisor-employee relationship. I thought he was incompetent and disrespectful. He thought I was erratic and ambivalent to authority. Nonetheless, I refused to be disrespectful toward him, so I graciously accepted his invitation. Since the civil union was to take place on a Saturday night and I almost exclusively worked nights, he assured me that he would reschedule me to a morning shift so that I could attend. (The first and only nice thing he ever did for me!)
The big Saturday night finally arrived. I got out of work at 4:30 PM. I rushed home to Frankfort to change my clothes, pick up Amy, and grab the small kitchen appliance and towel set that we bought for the happy couple. (We most certainly did not buy these items at Garden Ridge. That would have been egregiously tacky.) We arrived at the Unitarian Universalist church at 6:15 PM, just fifteen minutes before the scheduled beginning of the ceremony. We dropped off our gifts at the appropriate table in the hallway, signed the guestbook, and took our seats inside the sanctuary.
The decor inside of the church was simple. The ceremony was just like a traditional wedding. There was music, the exchanging of the rings, the vows, and the kiss at the end. Of course, the minor difference was that the word "marriage" was replaced with "union" and the word "husband" was replaced with "partner". (As a side note, what set this ceremony apart from other ceremonies that I had attended in my lifetime was that the presiding minister at this church was a woman. It was my first time seeing a female minister after spending nearly a dozen years of my life at my father's Southern Baptist church--a religion that I think still excludes women from such leadership positions today.) The reception party afterward was also pretty generic. No fancy-pants hors d'oeuvres. No frou-frou drinks. Not even one single Cher song on the PA system. The food and drinks were typical reception fare, and the DJ played your basic pop mix of artists like Whitney Houston, Michael Bolton, and Luther Vandross. All in all, it was a very tasteful celebration. It wasn't all "queered up", as the media would have people believe. No rainbow flags, no drag queens lip-syncing "It's Raining Men", no party favors shaped like tiny phalluses.
Coming back to 2015. As all of the sane people on the Bored know, I have been a pastor for over five years now. One thing that I have never done as a pastor is officiate a domestic union of any kind. I had never been interested in the job before. Furthermore, I didn't know if I was automatically allowed to do so, if I had to have special training to do so, or whatever. Yesterday after our morning worship service, I asked my senior pastor about becoming a wedding official. Pastor Mark told me that it was fairly easy to get legal in the state of Ohio. All I had to do was file a request with the Ohio Secretary of State, complete with my credentials, and then he would issue me a license. So that's what I did this morning. Now it's just a matter of time before I will be qualified to marry people in the Buckeye State.
There's a reason why I mention all of this. Saturday afternoon, I got a call from Jerron Dean, an old homie of mine from up in Middletown who now lives in Dayton. (No relation to Orvis Dean. Just a wild coincidence.) Jerron asked me if I wouldn't mind coming up to Dayton to hang out with him for a few minutes. Of course, I would do anything for an old friend. So I made my way up to his new apartment to talk to him and another old friend, Tristan. Jerron and Tristan have been a couple for over ten years.
Editorial: I just want to say that I have no idea how Jerron and Tristan fell in love with each other, much less be together since high school. I could see it with Orvis and James, but not with Jerron and Tristan. Aside from being Black, going to the same schools, and knowing me personally, these two dudes have absolutely nothing in common!
--Jerron is 6'2". Tristan is 5'8".
--Jerron has two older siblings. Tristan is an only child.
--Jerron has feminine eyes and a soprano voice. Tristan looks and sounds like a gangsta.
--Jerron has cornrows. Tristan has waves.
--Jerron has two arms full of tattoos. Tristan's arms have never seen a spot of ink.
--Jerron loves football, but despises basketball. Tristan loves basketball, but despises football.
--Jerron listens to old-school R&B and can't stand rap. Tristan can't get enough of rap.
--Jerron drinks like a fish, but has never smoked anything in his lifetime. Tristan loves to smoke blunts and Black & Mild cigars (my favorite vices before I gave my life to God), but is a lifelong teetotaler.
--Jerron is a PlayStation man. Tristan is an Xbox man.
I don't personally know a couple more different than they are. They are like the gay Carville and Matalin. Actually, now that I think about it, they are the gay Carville and Matalin. Jerron is a Democrat and Tristan is a Republican. Opposites really do attract.
Anyway, Jerron and Tristan want to get married later this year and they asked me if they could have their wedding at my church. Not only that, they asked me if I would run the show. I told them that I would have to discuss it all with my superior... and that's what led to my conversation with Pastor Mark yesterday morning after church. He told me that Jerron and Tristan are more than welcome to get married at our church. Even though Black-majority churches in America have typically been against homosexuality over the years, the official stance at our Black-majority church (despite gay marriages being illegal in this state from 2004 until last week) has always been that any two consenting adults have the God-given right to love because God doesn't discriminate. Or as I once quipped behind the pulpit, "Gay people are free to be as miserable in a sexless marriage as straight people are because this is America and not Iran." So barring any executive orders from Gov. Kasich in an effort to pander to the base for the Republican nomination next year, this wedding is set for October to coincide with Tristan's 28th birthday. I will go out of my way to make sure my friend gets a birthday that he will never forget.
One final fact here. Tristan's last name is Martin. I also told Jerron and Tristan that, as a joke, they should both take the married name of Martin-Dean because it would confuse all of the old people. (Think about it for a couple of minutes and you'll get the joke.
)