I'm not political.
I can't cite court cases; I can't argue about the judicial system or discuss the left and right. (I couldn't even tie my shoes until I was nine. I was lucky to know my right foot from my left.)
But I can tell you what the Proposition 8 ruling means to me. It may not sound fancy, it may not hold up in court, but it'll be honest.
It means that I have hope.
I'm a cynic on the surface, a softie beneath. My initial reaction was one of joy — if it could happen there, if some judge in California could rule that denying someone like me the right to marry was unconstitutional, it could happen here. But not long after, I was over it. The joy left, the cynicism crept in, and I started complaining that I still couldn't get married — no matter what happened in California.
This article appears in Aug 5-11, 2010.