The California Supreme Court heard oral arguments in the In Re Marriage cases, about whether the California constitution compels the state to recognize marriages of same-sex couples (decision in 90 days). Watching it with a group of lawyers, community organizers, and the (un?)married couples, I was once again reminded that despite my usual personal cynicism on this issue, the powerful paradox that is state sanctioned marriage continues to move many, and I was, on this occasion, among them.
I arrived early at city hall to help out with an NCLR press conference. The day promised to be bright and clear. Even though it was early March, it felt more like Pride Weekend.
After the conference, we headed to the SF Public Library to watch the arguments, being broadcast live (because of the number of attorneys working on the case, few to no members of the public could watch the case in the actual courtroom).
Because we were seated in a separate building, audience participation was allowed, even encouraged. It was a very geeky version of a sporting match, though of course the consequences of victory or defeat were, to me, far weightier. We cheered whenever a point was made particularly poignantly by one of "our" attorneys, or by a justice obviously irked by evasive or illogical answers by the other side. We laughed mockingly or stage-snorted with derision when opposing counsel engaged in ludicrous rhetoric (at one point, an attorney said that marriage required a man and a woman just as salt required sodium and chlorine. Yes. Really.). We hissed when they made poorly supported and hateful assertions (for example that kids should be raised by two parents of the opposite sex to whom they were genetically related).
Despite the feeling of righteousness and camaraderie in the room, I felt rather badly for the state assistant attorney general, who seemed almost embarrassed to have to argue that the California constitution did not prohibit this form of marriage discrimination.
At one point, Gavin Newsom came in and made a brief statement about marriage. Most everyone applauded, but I saw a significant portion of the crowd pointedly staying seated while others rose to applaud. I felt very proud that even in our enthusiasm for the issue at hand, many of us did not lose sight of our larger progressive commitments, and (at least the way I interpreted the crowd's actions) will continue to hold politicians who are on "our side" accountable.
At the post-argument press event, there were a number of hateful banners in attendance. Of course, one of those made it as the graphic for the nightly news for this story on the TV channel I was watching. Shannon Minter, legal director for NCLR, got a lot of love and gratitude from the various people in attendance.
I felt like I had witnessed an important moment in Californian, and perhaps American, history.
At about 1:30, T texted me. "Did we win?"
I said that our side had argued well. But now, on further consideration, I think in a sense we have already won.
As Kate Kendall noted when she took the mic after the oral arguments were over, whatever the outcome of the case, today we got to see an out lesbian, an out transman (and, I added mentally, an out gay man of color) arguing, on camera, in the highest court of this state, for the proposition that no public animus, no mere tradition, can justify denying the fundamental rights of privacy, freedom of association, equal protection and dignity to any person based on the gender of their sexual and romantic partners. The fact of that public hearing, of that forceful, dignified, unapologetic demand on a bright Spring day from a community that once spoke only in the shadows, can never be taken away.
Tags: law, queer