Queersetti
Bastardo Suave
- Joined
- Apr 10, 2003
- Posts
- 37,291
Yesterday was my birthday. Never mind which one, I'm just lucky I still have them.
Last evening, about 6 o'clock, there was a knock on the door. It was a young friend of mine, Katie. I have known her since she was 14 years old, when she showed up, timid and nervous at an organizing meeting for a gay rights initiative. She's finished college now. She came in, introducing me to her girlfriend, Laurie. I was pleased to see them, thinking they had just stopped by for a quick visit on their way to some party or a movie. No, they informed me, they were here for my birthday party.
In 2012, Maine became one of the first states in which the voters acknowledged the rights of marriage for all people. That didn't just happen, it happened because a lot of people worked long and hard to make it happen. One of the ways I contributed was by telling the organizers that I had extra room at my house if anyone working on the campaign needed a place to stay. Somehow that turned into "he has plenty of room". Young people from all over the state, and from away as well, started showing up, at all hours of day and night. Many of them were LGBT, but many were not, they were friends, allies, just good kids who believed that this was the right thing to do. Some would be here just for a night, others moved in for weeks at a time. As the campaign heated up, my home became a beehive of activity. They were phone banking from my dining room, putting signs together in the backyard, and sitting, anywhere there was room, in chairs, on the floor, up and down the stairs, busily working on their laptops. And at night, one by one, they would go to sleep, in the spare room, on the couch, in the recliner, in sleeping bags on the floor.
My niece, Donata, was living with me, and we became sort of surrogate parents to them. We gave them directions to far-flung towns, drove them around town, arbitrated a few arguments, even had to give a couple of hygiene lessons. Mostly, we fed them. The "endless spaghetti pot" became a running joke.
So, last night.
Behind Katie and Laurie, a stream of them came. "The Kids" at we'd taken to calling them during that campaign, had decided to throw me a birthday party. They brought the food this time. Well, the girls brought food, the boys brought beer and bags of chips. About two dozen of them came, one drove four hours from way Down East. We ate and laughed and cried until late into the night. We skyped with Donata, who is in Milan now. She was just as touched by them as I was.
The highlight of the evening was when Katie and Laurie announced that come next spring, they would join into the marriage they had worked so hard to make possible.
Around 11 most of them left, saying they had to get home. I know they were really slipping off to the bar, but that's OK. A few stayed though, spending one more night in the spare room. I went to sleep listening to the sound of their voices and laughter through the wall.
I'm spending the day with family today, but had no plans yesterday. But I was reminded that there is more than one kind of family.
Last evening, about 6 o'clock, there was a knock on the door. It was a young friend of mine, Katie. I have known her since she was 14 years old, when she showed up, timid and nervous at an organizing meeting for a gay rights initiative. She's finished college now. She came in, introducing me to her girlfriend, Laurie. I was pleased to see them, thinking they had just stopped by for a quick visit on their way to some party or a movie. No, they informed me, they were here for my birthday party.
In 2012, Maine became one of the first states in which the voters acknowledged the rights of marriage for all people. That didn't just happen, it happened because a lot of people worked long and hard to make it happen. One of the ways I contributed was by telling the organizers that I had extra room at my house if anyone working on the campaign needed a place to stay. Somehow that turned into "he has plenty of room". Young people from all over the state, and from away as well, started showing up, at all hours of day and night. Many of them were LGBT, but many were not, they were friends, allies, just good kids who believed that this was the right thing to do. Some would be here just for a night, others moved in for weeks at a time. As the campaign heated up, my home became a beehive of activity. They were phone banking from my dining room, putting signs together in the backyard, and sitting, anywhere there was room, in chairs, on the floor, up and down the stairs, busily working on their laptops. And at night, one by one, they would go to sleep, in the spare room, on the couch, in the recliner, in sleeping bags on the floor.
My niece, Donata, was living with me, and we became sort of surrogate parents to them. We gave them directions to far-flung towns, drove them around town, arbitrated a few arguments, even had to give a couple of hygiene lessons. Mostly, we fed them. The "endless spaghetti pot" became a running joke.
So, last night.
Behind Katie and Laurie, a stream of them came. "The Kids" at we'd taken to calling them during that campaign, had decided to throw me a birthday party. They brought the food this time. Well, the girls brought food, the boys brought beer and bags of chips. About two dozen of them came, one drove four hours from way Down East. We ate and laughed and cried until late into the night. We skyped with Donata, who is in Milan now. She was just as touched by them as I was.
The highlight of the evening was when Katie and Laurie announced that come next spring, they would join into the marriage they had worked so hard to make possible.
Around 11 most of them left, saying they had to get home. I know they were really slipping off to the bar, but that's OK. A few stayed though, spending one more night in the spare room. I went to sleep listening to the sound of their voices and laughter through the wall.
I'm spending the day with family today, but had no plans yesterday. But I was reminded that there is more than one kind of family.
Last edited:
from the good little witch.
