It looks like the latest winter storm dumped more than snow on Wyoming it also dropped in a little common sense.
That proposed amendment to the Wyoming Constitution that would specify the state not recognize same-sex marriages performed anywhere else on the entire planet died last week when it missed a procedural deadline in the state Legislature.
House Majority Floor Leader, Republican Tom Lubnau, said he didn't want to spend hours of floor time debating a bill that didn't have the votes to pass. Um, yeah, sounds nice, Tom, but why not say that you don't want to debate a bill that adds discrimination to the state Constitution?
However, there is still another bill pending that would change Wyoming law to specify that the state would only recognize marriages between one man and one woman. See, currently, Wyoming law specifies marriage is only between a man and a woman, but it also says that Wyoming will recognize valid marriages performed in other states.
Proponents of the both marriage bills have said Wyoming needs to clarify its law now that same-sex marriages are being performed in other states, because, you know, they don't want Iowa homo couples, or Massachusetts homo couples, or Canadian homo couples, coming to their state.
I mean, how would that look?
source
Showing posts with label Wyoming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wyoming. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
What I Would Die For by Jewel Dirks
Open letter to Wyoming legislators:
I never knew if I believed in something strong enough to die for it. Being a woman, and now an old woman, I didn't have to face the question of having to die for my country. The things I most treasure in our country--free speech, due process, equal opportunity--would I be willing to die for these? I ask my students, "Is there any idea that you would die for?" And I never knew what my own answer would be.
I did not want to stand with the demonstrators for the "Honk and Wave for Gay Marriage" in Riverton. It was a Friday afternoon, and I wanted to crawl into bed. As I made my poster, I wondered if people would jeer at us, or give us the finger. I was in no mood for trouble.
It was cold and there weren't many of us. I didn't want to be there. But when I heard that first honk, something came alive in me. There as a stranger out there, someone who didn't even know me, that was willing to witness my struggle, to stand up for me. What was it that came alive in me? I've wondered for the past few days now, and I think it's the surprising love that happens when we realize we are all connected, we are all one.
And then it happened -- not once, but twice. A truck charged at us, swerving at the last moment, the tires scraping along the snowy curb inches from where we were standing, and then roared off. We were all stunned. We were horrified, and we shouted in outrage, and we laughed like people do when they've escaped something outrageous.
A few minutes later, a car did the same thing: charged us, swerved again against the curb at our feet, and then roared away. The message was clear, "I could kill you. I would like to kill you."
And that's when I knew-- from witnessing the love from a stranger and the gestures of such open hatred: I knew I would die for this.
I would die for these beautiful, young, smart, funny, mouthy and obnoxious students who want nothing from married couples but the opportunity to make their own relationships as deeply committed, lawful and as sacred as possible. I would die to protect these students from those who would so easily harm them, solely for being courageous enough to be honest about who they are.
JEWEL DIRKS, Riverton
Co-sponsor, Central Wyoming College Gay-Straight Network
source
I never knew if I believed in something strong enough to die for it. Being a woman, and now an old woman, I didn't have to face the question of having to die for my country. The things I most treasure in our country--free speech, due process, equal opportunity--would I be willing to die for these? I ask my students, "Is there any idea that you would die for?" And I never knew what my own answer would be.
I did not want to stand with the demonstrators for the "Honk and Wave for Gay Marriage" in Riverton. It was a Friday afternoon, and I wanted to crawl into bed. As I made my poster, I wondered if people would jeer at us, or give us the finger. I was in no mood for trouble.
It was cold and there weren't many of us. I didn't want to be there. But when I heard that first honk, something came alive in me. There as a stranger out there, someone who didn't even know me, that was willing to witness my struggle, to stand up for me. What was it that came alive in me? I've wondered for the past few days now, and I think it's the surprising love that happens when we realize we are all connected, we are all one.
And then it happened -- not once, but twice. A truck charged at us, swerving at the last moment, the tires scraping along the snowy curb inches from where we were standing, and then roared off. We were all stunned. We were horrified, and we shouted in outrage, and we laughed like people do when they've escaped something outrageous.
A few minutes later, a car did the same thing: charged us, swerved again against the curb at our feet, and then roared away. The message was clear, "I could kill you. I would like to kill you."
And that's when I knew-- from witnessing the love from a stranger and the gestures of such open hatred: I knew I would die for this.
I would die for these beautiful, young, smart, funny, mouthy and obnoxious students who want nothing from married couples but the opportunity to make their own relationships as deeply committed, lawful and as sacred as possible. I would die to protect these students from those who would so easily harm them, solely for being courageous enough to be honest about who they are.
JEWEL DIRKS, Riverton
Co-sponsor, Central Wyoming College Gay-Straight Network
source
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