Tied Up in Knots

[February 25th, 2004] On the same day it seemed like every queer in San Francisco got hitched, my partner popped the question--almost.

It was the way that almost-question made me feel about getting hitched--I'm almost ready, I almost want to--that made me start to think about the bigger questions concerning gay marriage. I'm all for it in theory, particularly for any couple who thinks it's going to help them accomplish things they couldn't as single people.

Even though I'm 100 percent committed to my partner, why is it, exactly, that I don't feel the pressing need to jump on this cultural bandwagon?

Some couples--like Chino Chung and Maya Gillingham--talk about the legal and financial benefits of marriage, and that makes sense to me. Chung, 43, got married in San Francisco on Friday the 13th to Gillingham, 38, the sister of one of my colleagues. "We just bought a house," says Chung, who lives with Gillingham in Oakland. "Since Maya is still a student, I can write her off on my taxes. That's huge."

Besides, Gillingham is pregnant. "If Maya were to have the child right now, it would be both of ours," Chung says. "There would be no question."

Setting aside practicalities, Chung says she was struck by the emotional impact of the event. "I realized I was making a lifelong commitment to the woman I love," she says. "It was one thing to know that, but it is a whole other thing to say that commitment in front of Maya, the state representative, and the whole world. It is real."

That sounds great. But is it for me? I now feel some pressure to get married--and not just from my partner. It's a pressure, as a gay man, that's unlike anything I've ever felt before. It's as if getting married is no longer considered an act of love but an act of practical defiance against an oppressive regime that has locked us in the shackles of same-sex shame. If you don't jump on the domestication bandwagon--right now!--then there is something wrong with you, and perhaps, your so-called relationship. For the first time I understand what it might've felt like for straight couples to hook up without getting a piece of paper first.

Another unlikely activist, Rev. Cecil Prescod, of Northeast Portland, talks about gay marriage in terms of basic civil rights. Prescod, 48, is African-American, an openly bisexual, ordained minister of the United Church of Christ.

The good reverend--who has never been married but is, he says, "always looking"--argues that the right of gays to marry is similar to the rights of interracial couples, whose unions were once outlawed in many states. "Everyone should have the opportunity to marry--or not to marry--the person they love," Prescod says. "In terms of talking about equality and opportunity, when it comes to gay marriage, it's a human-rights issue."

When confronted by a racist society, the focal points of family and faith helped sustain the African-American community in hard times, Prescod says. And he believes that marriage would strengthen the bonds queers have to one another.

These are strong arguments. And difficult times. While I can't help but share Chung's and Prescod's opinion that gay marriage is probably a good thing, I also can't help but wonder if the ties that bind might just trip us up. Or do I just have cold feet? I never thought I'd say this, but I just might be late to my very own wedding.