One more reason to respect Iowa

“I’m almost ready to up and leave Iowa and move back to Minnesota,” one woman said angrily.

“There’s something about it happening in the heartland that has got to accelerate this process for the whole country,” said another.

On April 4, the Iowa Supreme Court overturned the ban on same-sex marriages, giving lie to the myth that Iowa folks are strictly conservative. Some would say they are, indeed, Progressives. Whatever your take on the same-sex marriage issue, the court’s web site had 1.5 million viewers on the day of the decision. The court’s seven members made it a unanimous decision.

I have a beautiful niece, one of several. Not only is she highly intelligent, she is a hard-working and has for many years supported herself. She is loved by her father, her mother, her sister, and her devoted partner, Annie. My niece is a lesbian.

In the building I occupy are several gay and lesbian couples. They come and go like other occupants, off to shop or walk their pets. One of the gay partners is a well-respected judge in our county court system, and I volunteered for his re-election campaign. If you placed these couples (or individuals) in a crowd, you’d never be able to identify their gender preference. For instance, is that fellow over there gay, the one dressed in a suit and tie? Yes, he is. He’s a parole officer. His partner works for Milwaukee’s Health Department. And the lady in the flowered suit and fashionable shoes? Oh, she’s one of our State Representatives. She’s a lesbian.

The aforementioned judge and his partner throw a big Halloween costume party each fall. It’s a blast. That said, no one swings from the chandeliers brandishing sex toys. At the last one I attended, the guy I was standing next to was dressed as a Milwaukee police officer. A gay chap, he really is a Milwaukee police officer.

Milwaukee has churches friendly to gay and lesbian couples. In the summer, the city celebrates Pride Fest and I can think of no place in town that would single out lesbian and gay couples as “unwelcome,” though Pride Fest is sometimes picketed by those who think their way is the only way. We have a center for “Gay Arts,” but it isn’t the art that’s gay, it’s the artists who produce it.

I have a lady friend who, after an unsuccessful heterosexual marriage, partnered with a woman. When one of their mothers died last year, the two of them steered her wheelchair through small town Iowa, in a “Race to Beat Cancer,” event. Together, they grieved over their loss.

A teacher gal pal married and raised a fine son who is currently serving in Iran. When her child rearing days were over, she left her marriage to live with a woman who leads a blues band. She told me she knew early on that she preferred the company of women, but societal pressures directed her toward a heterosexual marriage. Incidentally, the lady is a respected instructor at a local Catholic college. Her brother, a pastor in a Wisconsin church, hasn’t spoken to her since she made her same-sex choice. On the other hand, her parents sent her and her chosen other on an all expenses paid “Commitment Cruise.”

These friends worry about taxes and, like the rest of us, the sagging economy. They likely worry about growing old and infirm and what that means in terms of health care benefits. They exercise (or don’t), try new recipes, and (time permitting) have their friends in for dinner.

Okay, so I have relatives, friends and co-workers who are openly gay or lesbian. Does this make me politically correct? Does it lend a kind of “city chic” to my persona? Nope. My family has endured foreclosures and too many babies. One of my Irish ancestors cut off the head of the Earl of Desmond and left it in England where it rotted on a pole. The travesty? The Earl made off with my ancestor’s (Maurice Moriarty) lone cow. In my family tree are also suicides, drunks, drug users, and those who have divorced multiple times and/or been rehabbed via AA. Some came to these shores in 1849 and signed their names with an “X.” They settled in Iowa. You betcha there were gays and lesbians in that prolific flock, and some of them have lived the American Dream fully. And freely.

I would like to think that all of my kinfolk are entitled to “equal protection” of the law. “We have a constitutional duty,” Iowa Supreme Court Justice, Mark Cady, wrote in his decision. Before you start finger pointing at the Judge, go to the court web site and take a look at Cady’s record. He was appointed by former four-term Iowa Republican governor, Terry Branstad.

Why is it people define a “full measure” of equal protection as one that should go only to those they deem worthy of protection? Why are the possibilities narrowed by narrow minds? It wasn’t so long ago that white folks were worthy and black folks weren’t, and that folks with disabilities (mental and/or physical) were denied equal rights. In the history of the world, it was up until recently that teachers were forbidden to marry and women forbidden to vote.

I received this on Easter Sunday. It’s from Mary L. McCuen, a former resident of Mt. Pleasant, Iowa:

I am very proud to have been born and raised in a traditional family with strong values. I graduated from college and began my professional career all in the great state of Iowa. Even though I have lived out of state for the last 25 years, I have maintained close connections to Iowa. The recent ruling legalizing gay marriage profoundly impacted me and my partner, Diane, on many significant levels. The world is gradually beginning to wake up to the need for equality, especially where gays and lesbians are concerned. Iowa has truly made a statement with this ruling that moral grounds are deeply rooted in the Midwest and not just in what may have been considered east or west coast liberal states.

My partner and I sit next to you in church, we take care of our home in a nice neighborhood, we contribute to the economy and pay taxes, we walk on the same hiking trails, we look like you, we have successful careers, we volunteer, and we dine at the same restaurants. We, too, are in a long-term committed relationship. My heart aches to my core every time we experience the ignorance or bias of those who have labeled us, as a group, as a lesser class of citizen. We have experienced the defeating sermons and damnations, the jokes and being kept away from our loved ones in the ICU for far too long. We have learned over time to suppress our feelings of sadness, joy and equality. Iowa has just cleared the path for us to be true to ourselves and live our lives to the fullest.

This should not be too much to ask. However, this is still a symbolic step because true equality will not exist until we receive the same legal benefits of marriage.

Last weekend I attended a baby shower shortly after the Iowa Supreme Court decision was announced. As I was introduced to a fellow former Iowan, she abruptly said, “for the first time I am disgusted and not proud to be an Iowan, because of that horrible new gay ruling.”

With great sadness, I felt myself slipping my ring finger into my pocket. A baby shower was not the right forum to express my views, so I kept quiet, which is not my normal personality.

Yes, we also sit next to you at baby showers.

For the health and welfare of all citizens, it will be so counterproductive to continue efforts to overturn this ruling. Freedom and truthfulness are imperative for a productive society. It will be so satisfying and constructive as Iowa continues to be a groundbreaker on social issues and equality.

And yes, my partner and I plan to come to Iowa to experience the joy of a civil union that, up until now, has been denied, and still is not available in Colorado.