DOMA and Me

Two big headlines that I will always recall, in one paper:

“Defense of Marriage Act Sails Through Senate”

and

“Employment Non-discrimination Act Fails to Pass”

It was September 1996, and these were my welcome messages from the United States government after my year-long, round-the-world trip. About a year earlier, I had quit my secure, good-paying managerial job in a federal agency in the Washington DC area in order to “see the world.” I had left America at a time of great disillusionment, when the public appreciation for federal employees – even among Democrats – was at an all-time low; after the incredible hope that rose up and then crashed when newly elected Democratic President Bill Clinton announced that he was lifting the ban on “Gays in the military” and then almost immediately folded on that promise in the face of stiff opposition from some in Congress; after the bizarre, racially polarizing verdict in the trial of current-prisoner O.J. Simpson.

At the time, the notion of “Gay marriage” (as if marriage transforms into something else depending on who is allowed to participate in it) seemed remote, theoretical, of little real consequence. Spurred by a court ruling in Hawaii that held out the likelihood of removing the discrimination based on gender from the legal right to marry, the shocked nation rushed to amend the U.S. Constitution to prevent equal rights for all Americans with regard to marriage. The hateful, blatantly unconstitutional “Defense of Marriage Act” was the COMPROMISE position at the time.

I can recall so clearly reading in the Seattle newspaper that even Democrats who voted for the bill had stated privately that, “well, it’s almost certainly unconstitutional, but at least it will give the public some time to get more comfortable with the idea (of ‘gay marriage’).”

Fifteen years later, and we’re all still “getting comfortable” with the idea that the notion of “equal protection under the law” as set out by the Fourteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution actually means what it says and that, No, you may not under this Constitution single out a group of citizens for discriminatory treatment simply because you don’t like them.

Personally, DOMA has meant that when my partner had to return to his country due to layoffs, I could not keep him here by sponsoring him for a green card, as any opposite-sexual couple could . DOMA meant that I had to chose to either say good-bye to my partner (then, of 4 years) or say good-bye to my country. I chose the latter. We were one of the lucky ones, able to return to the U.S. recently based on another work-related visa that my partner was so lucky to get. I say “lucky” in comparative terms; I still had to quit my job (again) and jump back into the U.S. economy at a time of 9+ % unemployment.

For me, DOMA has meant and continues to mean that I am faced with very real financial punishments that opposite-sexual couples never have to face: being unable to apply together as a couple for an apartment, being unable to automatically have power of attorney should either of us become incapacitated, not ever really knowing how long we will be able to remain in this country.

DOMA means that people whom I have never met carry hateful signs personally insulting me in order to advance their “religious” beliefs to a prominence higher than the basic principles of representative democracy and civil liberty. It means that we cannot choose where in America to live and work. We cannot buy a home without factoring in the real possibility that we may not be able to stay here long enough for it to make sense to commit to such a massive investment.

In discussion of DOMA and UAFA, often we see angry comments insisting that the case for equality with regard to sponsoring a partner for immigration has absolutely nothing to do with the case for “gay marriage.” That argument cans surely be made, but the obvious truth is that, if there were no DOMA, there would be no need for a UAFA or anything like it.

And yes, I am by far, in relative terms, one of the lucky ones.