Reflections on gay marriage from a groom to be…


In February of last year, my perspective on living changed…for the better.

We’ve seen the scene played out in movie after movie, story after story.  A couple is having a romantic dinner. The setting is picturesque. A seaside table at an Italian restaurant. Freshly lit candles. The moon and stars fill the night sky. A man pushes his chair back after uttering a couple of awkwardly rehearsed sentences and gets down on one knee. He smiles as he gazes in the deep, bright blue eyes of his lover. Words roll of his tongue – words he never thought in his wildest dreams could ever come of his mouth.

And, he said “Yes!”

And from that moment – very traditional in all respects except one – our perspective on living changed…for the better.

We are getting married!

The Happy Couple

He said YES! Wedding Ring

 

 

 

 


As our wedding day creeps closer and closer, I think I can speak for both of us when I say we have not a clue what we are doing!

You see, growing up as a gay man, facing exclusion, rejection, discrimination and a general lack of role models when it comes to relationships – this was never in the cards for “us.”  And our society as no experience with the unique opportunities presented when there are two grooms, not one…or two brides, not one. It’s both exciting and scary, familiar and unfamiliar, comfortable and uncomfortable.

And, that is life…in all of its complex glory!

It reminds me of how I experienced President Obama’s election and swearing in as President almost eight years ago. I was working at Lilly at the time – a conservative, mid-western company with very traditional “values” and deep Republican pockets. Even so, Lilly senior management understood the cultural and national significance of this particular swearing in. In the US, TVs were setup in conference rooms and public spaces to broadcast the ceremony. Everyone was invited to step away from their work and share in this once-in-a-lifetime experience that changed our country…for the better.

Looking back, that meant that we were in a room with friends and strangers from all walks of life. Older, younger, republican, democrat, black, white, gay, straight, bi, Thai… And for one moment, we were united in a common experience. The unexpected benefit of this setup was that I was able to share in a moment with colleagues who had faced exclusion, rejection, discrimination their entire life because of the color of their skin – who never thought that becoming President was in the cards for “them.”

From that point forward, future generations of Black Americans would never grow up being told, “You can be anything you want to be when you grow up…except becoming President…because only White folks make it that far.  It’s just the way it’s always been, and always will be…”  

A whole generation and beyond was giving hope…hope for a better world.

 

Last summer, I was at a Flow Arts Festival in Illinois with Brandon when the Supreme Court decision was made public regarding gay marriage in the US.  I’ll never forget that morning. I let out a loud, primal scream of joy. It felt like nothing else I had ever experienced.

My worldview had fundamentally changed…for the better.

The mood at festival was much like that Lilly conference room. With me were friends and strangers from all different walks of life. And for one moment, we were united in a common experience. The unexpected benefit of this arrangement was that others in the community were able to share a moment with me and Brandon and others who had faced exclusion, rejection, discrimination their entire life because of their sexual orientation – who never thought that getting married was in the cards for “us.”

From that point forward, future generations of gay, lesbian and bisexual Americans would never grow up being told, “You can be anything you want to be when you grow up…but you can’t get married…because only heterosexual folks can do that.  It’s just the way it’s always been, and always will be…”

A whole generation and beyond was giving hope…hope for a better world.


Is Race no longer an issue in America?  Of course not…but a “glass ceiling” was shattered and we are all better because of it.

Is Sexual Orientation no longer an issue in America?  Of course not…but a “pink ceiling” was shattered and we are all better because of it.

All because he said “Yes!”

People can change…why faith is their bottom line and telling our story is so vital to changing public perception…


President Obama’s speaking engagement at the National Drug Abuse Summit this week in Atlanta has created a week-long focus on our national opioid painkiller abuse epidemic, among other recovery and/or substance abuse related topics.

A friend of mine, Kim Manlove, was invited to be on the original panel of some 40 speakers from around the country. President Obama was a recent “surprise”addition to the stage, joining a panel with Sanjay Gupta, an ER doctor and two people in recovery from addiction. 

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Amazing conversation with President Obama at this year’s National Summit on Prescription Drug and Heroin Abuse

Making in-roads on all cylinders, on all fronts…

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Doctors resist new painkiller prescribing procedures

Several stories on or related to the topic are floating around this week’s new cycle:

The first news piece outlines new procedural recommendations as well as mentions the availability of a national database to assist doctors in discovering potential abuse signs. Although I’m sure it will take doctors a little more time in their already busy routines to add these checks and balances, I believe it’s worth it.  And, let’s be clear – this is not an easy or perfect “silver bullet.”  But, it seems to me if we’re going to make inroads to eradicating this epidemic, we have to hit on all fronts, on all cylinders and try anything and everything we can to turn the tide…

I believe every citizen of our country is worth it.

I believe every person in our neighborhood is worth it.

I believe anyone in our family is worth it.

I believe even the “outcast” and the person “on the fringes” of “society” is worth it.

 

Like Edison, we may need to try 10,000 ways that won’t work in order to find a couple that might work…

 

I know Bob S.’s friend’s grandson is worth it.

I know my mother was worth it.

I know I’m worth it.


This is no longer a war on drugs…it’s a war FOR recovery!
Treatment works!  Recovery works!

Our new “recovery czar” Michael Botticelli coined this shift in language as one of many ways to start to change perception, to shift our emphasis and to reduce stigma in America. He is the FIRST person in this position (formerly known as “drug czar”) who is a person in long-term recovery.

His story is powerful…

A frank conversation on recovery, the so-called “war on drugs” and other important topics –  between two individuals in long-term recovery


As in war, some are fighting to maintain control,
their position of power,
the status quo…

Rather than own their own part of the sidewalk, and work in tandem with, and not against, our government allies, the industry lobbyists are having a field day this week.  They are reacting in full force against the government’s meddling in their sphere of control and power. Whoops, I meant influen$e…my apologies.  [sarcasm duly noted, for clarity]

One reaction, from the American Pharmacists Association (APA) on their Facebook page, starts with a question (and then force feeds us their opinion as the one any only answer):

Health officials are calling on physicians to use new painkiller prescribing procedures designed to prevent the abuse, misuse and death from taking high-risk and addictive drugs. However, some physicians say new process is burdensome. What, if any, impact would these new procedures have on pharmacists? http://ow.ly/ZZDtt

Thanks, but I’ll look more deeply and more broadly before I form my opinion…


On an individual level,
it’s still easy to oversimplify the issue,
to deny one another’s humanity…

It feels like this week is “three steps forward” in some areas, and two steps back in others….

Having said that, I stumbled across several painfully sincere comments about “druggies and dealers” among the online comments following one of the articles I included in an earlier section.

One of the commentators believes the following “is at play…”

…I started having chronic pain over 10 years ago and the tears from the pain flow daily. No one really cares. They are too worried about the druggies and dealers, so who has time and enough compassion to help those in real pain??? NO one !!!

~ Tina Dinnler, Facebook

My summary of the theme across many of the comments is:

…the medical community has influenced our government leaders to put the interests, safety and needs of “druggies and dealers” before that of other [more well-deserving] citizens [higher on the social ladder] who have valid life-changing medical pain and needs.

my summary interpretation from the article and comments regarding the new recommended prescribing procedures, from the APA’s Facebook page [sarcasm duly noted, for clarity]

Of course, the commentator is one of those more valuable citizens to which she refers. And her needs or the needs of people like herself are far more valuable than anyone else’s (especially the bottom feeders of our pristine, Puritan-like society) — the “druggies and dealers.” 

 

How easy it is to label, then dismiss.

We all do it at one time or another.  We turn our backs on our fellow human being.  We observe a behavior, and quickly assign motive, intention and eventually blame. We avoid owning our side of the sidewalk and cleaning it up as and when necessary, and instead direct everyone’s attention, sometimes cleverly and with great intention and manipulation, to the other side of the street.  Thus, nobody ever sees us as human.

And, we can therefore deny another’s humanity.

 

How easy it is to give up.

It’s easy to say people can’t change, because it protects our emotions, our heart, our vulnerable nature as caring, compassionate and trusting beings. If we say people can’t change, we somehow feel safer…and we don’t have to look at our own “shit.”  At least for now…eventually, we all hit our own “bottom” of despair…we start to lose hope…

Without hope, there is no trust…and without trust, there is no faith.

And without faith, there is no love.

 

How easy it is to give up on love.

And without love, there is no hope for change.


People can change…

Like many “druggies and dealers,” I have a past.

Like many “druggies and dealers,”  I have a story.

My story of early recovery in 2010


Todd, most of us don’t make it…

I’ll always remember those somber words from my first sponsor.

When I echoed his words back incorrectly with a naive “yea, I see what you mean…many of us don’t make it,” he corrected me with firmness and importance “No, Todd – most of us don’t make it…”

Like most, my roommate at Fairbanks Michael B didn’t make it….
Like most, my mother didn’t make it, dying alone on the floor of her family room…
Like most, a friend and former using buddy of mine Graham didn’t make it…

Like some, a friend and former dealer Jake did make it…
Like Jake, I’m making it…but only one day at a time.

Like Michael B.’s father questioned me on the phone, can people change?
Like my mother, most of us don’t want to change…
Like Graham, some of us want to change…but lose the battle to chance…

Like Jake has shown his two toddlers, born after he got clean, that people can change…
Like Jake, I’ve started to change…after almost 5 years of playing with chance…

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Center for Disease Control clock of prescription drug and Heroin deaths so far this calendar year

 

Like her grandson who will get out of jail in May…
He will faces his own opioid and heroin addiction as a homecomer

he will need love, trust, faith…

and a home where people care about him.

Together, let’s keep him from becoming number 6,893…


Trust, Faith, and Coming Home…

People CAN change…

You already have a home.
Right here.
You have people that care about you.

Even when there isn’t trust, there’s always faith.
Faith that whatever the other is doing, it’s for a good reason.
As long as he has faith in me, I’ll faith in him…


Hey, hun…your trust is too important to me…

I have faith in you…just like mom had faith in me…

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This is an angel from from my mom’s garden. She sits up in the rafters of our porch, looking down on those who come and go from our house watching over us with peace, love and light.  I love you mom.  I will also be your little boy.

When Jews were funny, and Poles hospitable, and Germans firmly loving…


I stumbled upon an amazing self portrait of “Jewish comedy in America and its links with Jewish immigrant culture” on Netflix last night. I was transported back in time to my childhood, and realized how much of this “same time” influenced my upbringing – if not directly, then indirectly.  [When Jews Were Funny…]

When Jews Were Funny
When Jews Were Funny

I’ve written here before about my first generation Polish-American grandmother, and her experiences during the Roosevelt administration as a teacher of American citizenship.  At her 90th birthday party and other family gatherings towards the end of her nearly 101 years on earth, we started to record stories from Mee-maw, realizing that with her would pass a wealth of family knowledge, stories and connections. (Though, we soon realized that our Aunt Joanie and others “from her generation” still possessed the memories of hearing these stories growing up – and yet, as Aunt Joanie says, “still young enough to remember them!” so all is not quite lost…yet.)

One of these stories from Mee-maw talks about her teaching experiences…and another, about how she and Pop-pop met and fell in love – a “clash” of religious and ethnic cultures that brought Polish Catholicism and German Lutheranism together at a time when “mixed marriages” of this sort were still dismissed or questioned, at least within the family if not “out in the world.”  She also talked (proudly) of “dumb Americans” – and told us how she said her prayers (in English and in Polish…)  [Watching the movie “When Jews Were Funny,” I was reminded of this story…but I won’t spoil the surprise…just think of me at the end of the movie, and smile!]

As I think about the “marriage debate” going on in our country today, I realize on one hand how far we’ve come…  Even though my grandfather, in his stoic, conservative German-ism, “disowned me” in his final act (his Will), writing me out of it because of my being gay, I realize that he still loved me as his grandson.  His strong grip, firmly grasping my kneecap…  The many hours spent flying in his single engine plane, exploring America…  The large family gatherings with family members of all generations, including many Polish friends and family who “took residence” with my grandparents as they emigrated from Poland…  Their home was a place of refuge, where Mee-maw was able to talk with them in Polish, teach them English, and my grandparents could help them with some odd jobs and income, thus “landing on their feet” in this land of opportunity and prosperity.  What a unique opportunity…to live in and around this “diversity,” not fully realizing (until even now) how the mix of religion, culture, food and family stories would shape my early memories.

So, even though his final, painful dying act was one of “rejection,” I realize that it came from a dying man, very sick and in more pain than we probably ever realized – dying of prostate cancer at a time when we knew far less about cancer, and could treat it even less.  If I compare his one act (even though it has been quite painful at times to accept, being “reminded” of it in 2013 when Mee-maw passed) with the rest of the way he lived his life and expressed his love to me…”firmly loving” – I realize I have a LOT more data to say that he embraced me than not.

What a gift…on this Good Friday, when the cross of Jesus reminds me yet again how common some of our roots are across generations – across religions – across cultures.  Going to High School in New Jersey, near grandparents who were post-War parents – I now realize how much Jewish immigrant culture (and Polish…and German…) colored the lens through which I saw the world – in many good, and sometimes awkward ways…but it all shapes who I am today, and for that, I’m grateful and will…”keep telling the story.”

I think I’ll end here…I probably have a warmer, clearer picture in my mind of the wonderful gifts of love and compassion than I’m fully expressing here…  Just know that it’s all good, and right, and salutary…  😉