Another roll down the mountain . . .

It has happened again. Maine has proven that lies and fear-mongering will influence the average voter every time. A law allowing same-sex couples to wed was passed in Maine several weeks ago, signed by Maine's governor, and put on the ballot for yesterday's election. And, in a race nearly too close to call (53%-47%), the law was overturned. Proponents of so-called "traditional marriage" used ads claiming that the law would require schools to teach children homosexual marriage. What does that even mean? How do you teach a kid about something he already knows about, that he can see for himself? How do you not teach them? We already ignore sex education in many schools, ban books that are "controversial" (real pot-boilers, like "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" by Maya Angelou, or "Catcher in the Rye"), and treat kids like precious little snowflakes who need us to tell them how to think, feel and grow into copies of their parents. Teach kids gay marriage? Surely we're going to hell.

I'd like to tell you why I support marriage equality. I'd like to tell you the story of my family.

Six years ago, I started Bristol Renaissance Faire, and was required to attend the Bristol Academy of Performing Arts, or BAPA. I often found myself sitting with a guy around my age, and the more we sat together the more we started trading snarky comments under our breath to each other, and a friendship deeper than any I've ever known was formed. I can't remember the day I met my brother, or the first things we said to each other. It just seems like he's always been a part of my life.

He met his husband R. one day at his apartment. It was sort of like a meet-cute in a movie: he walked in and R. was sitting on the couch, and B's roomate said, "I want you to meet a friend. We do Faire together." It was love at first sight; B. was seeing someone else at the time, but he agreed to dinner, and it was clear by the end of the evening that there was something very different and special going on between the two of them.

When I knew them, they were already together, comfortable and rhymically matched; where B. was high, R. was low, and vice-versa. I had been exposed to some bad relationships growing up, and my experience of couples was generally negative, so this was a real eye-opener. I started to learn about love by watching them.

There were troubles, like any couple. They would fight, they would make up. B. would call in tears, or ask if he could sleep on our couch (he never actually made it). But, no matter what, they always ended up back where they belonged: together. They are the most stable, healthiest couple I've ever been witness to, and I was so honored to hold the chuppah at their committment ceremony in 2007. They are my family, and they are gay, and they are committed to each other, and they don't get any of the rights that my sister and her fiance will enjoy when they walk down the aisle next year. They found each other and are making a life together, and they get treated like half-people.

Marriage is two people who love each other and decide to stay together. That sentence doesn't have a gender, and it doesn't need one.