On March 11, at about 11:15 p.m., the Massachusetts Constitutional Convention voted to declare me a second-class citizen. When the legislature voted to move one step closer to amending the state Constitution to ban same-sex marriage by a vote of 121 to 77, equality lost out to prejudice.
It was a long and agonizing day. As I walked up Beacon Hill in the half-light of morning, I was forced to pass shrieking protesters holding signs exclaiming "GAY? Got AIDS Yet?" and other hateful slogans. From dawn until well past dusk, the thousands of men and women committed to equality stood with American flags and carried placards bearing the words "No Discrimination in the Constitution" were forced to endure their antagonists' hatred for hours.
Meanwhile, I and hundreds of others spent 16 hours standing outside the doors of the house chamber, while the Massachusetts legislature debated our civil rights and sang the Star Spangled Banner, God Bless America, This Land is Your Land and America the Beautiful. We sang from the moment the statehouse doors opened at 7:30 a.m. until the convention finally adjourned for the day at 20 minutes before midnight. My brothers, sisters, fellow citizens and friends have placed their lives on hold for a month; they have given up work and sleep in order to work for equality, and yesterday they came together under the Golden Dome of the Massachusetts State House to sing out their love for one another, and for their country; to serve as the conscience of the legislature.
In the end, however, it was not enough. Equality and justice lost out to discrimination and prejudice. The 121 legislator majority effectively declared that gay marriage is not an issue of discrimination, but of redefinition of a fundamental institution and that such important issues should be left to the voters. In doing so, they disregarded Jarret Barrios, the gay senator from Cambridge, and Liz Malia, the lesbian representative from Jamaica Plain and all of the legislators of color when they argued that no one's civil rights ought be left to the tyranny of the majority. Had Brown v. Board of Education been put before the voters, the outcome may well have been different.
The legislators have declared that gay rights advocates should be satisfied with the civil unions that the current version of the amendment creates. Proponents of such a distinction argue that advocates should not quibble over terminology when in all other ways legal equality is codified. They have ignored the testimony of Sen. Dianne Wilkerson of Boston who tearfully spoke first hand of growing up in the segregated South, with the pain of knowing what it is like to be almost equal.
The fight, however, is not yet over. The legislature has left itself several options and political maneuvering space. When the House and Senate sit together in constitutional convention on March 29, they can still vote not to amend the Constitution. Conversely, they also have the power to proscribe even civil unions, simply writing gays out of the Constitution with the language "marriage is between one man and one woman."
Proponents of gay rights in the Legislature are beset from all sides. They receive thousands of calls from around the Commonwealth and the Country, urging them to "protect marriage." Massachusetts governor Mitt Romney has pledged to raise $2 million to fund the campaigns of conservative Republican challengers against any incumbent who votes in favor of equality. Brian Joyce, the longtime senator from Milton, will be facing a serious challenge for his seat for the first time in years, indicating the aggressive intentions of gay marriage opponents. Perhaps most frighteningly, conservative, anti-gay groups continue to pour money into the Commonwealth in amounts that the opposite side cannot match.
While the fight for gay marriage is not over, it has been dealt a serious blow. Only a widespread grassroots campaign to fight against discrimination stands a chance at preventing a gay marriage ban in Massachusetts.
