Let me tell you a story. Lauren and Christine have been together for almost ten years and are very much in love. They own a home together, and although they aren’t able to have a baby together, they hope to adopt some day. There’s just one wrinkle: their home state, Minnesota, won’t allow them to marry. They have a difficult choice to make: they can either continue to live without the legal protections and social recognition of marriage, or they can leave friends and family behind and move to Texas to be married.
“Texas?!” you say? Oh, did you think Lauren and Christine were gay? (Did you perhaps think that those two sultry ladies in the picture were Lauren and Christine? Tune out the lipstick lesbians, please, and try to focus on the topic at hand, if you can. If you must know, Lauren is a man, and Christine, like many figments, is infertile. Not that it’s any of your business.) No, they’re first cousins. Minnesota, like Mississippi, New Hampshire, and many other states, does not permit cousin marriage. Texas -- like Florida, California (and you were about to be smug -- well, stop it), and many others, does allow it. Each state makes its own laws in this area, and not many people pay cousin marriage much attention. It’s not what you would call a Wedge Issue.
For reasons I don’t fully understand, many people in this country consider going to the family reunion to pick up chicks perfectly acceptable -- so long as you’re not a chick yourself. Perhaps this is because cousin marriage, unlike gay marriage, goes way back. (Gay relationships go way back; gay marriage does not.) If you live in a primitive village of 200 people and have no internal combustion engine to carry you more than a few miles from home, your options may be limited. ...Not that that was necessarily an excuse. Cleopatra, queen of all Egypt, consort to generals and kings, and renowned looker and sharp cookie, had a family “tree” that looked more like a ladder. But I digress.
In particular, the Bible doesn’t have anything to say against kissing cousins. For goodness’ sake, the hero of the Sodom and Gomorra story got with both of his daughters. Bible or no Bible, no state would give that the green light. And there are plenty of things in that Good Book that we don’t much mind today, like rules against cutting your hair or eating shellfish. Striking a parent used to get you the death penalty; no more, much to the dismay of many modern parents, I’m sure.
Let’s be honest: You don’t want a dude to marry another dude because the idea of getting with a dude just seriously grosses you out. It’s no more complex than that. But unless you’re a CousinCouples member (and you know who you are -- Lauren), I’ll bet the idea of getting with a family member pretty much grosses you out, too. In order to explore these feelings a little, the remainder of this essay may be read as being either about cousins or gay people. The next time you pick up an article on gay marriage, you might try making similar verbal substitutions. The results may give you something to think about.
For the record, I agree with you all: the idea of kissing [a man | my cousin] is not appealing to me. Fortunately, regardless of which state I live it, no one is likely to compel me in this matter. The thought of someone else kissing [a man | my cousin], on the other hand, bothers me not in the least. It doesn’t bother me intellectually, it doesn’t bother me to hear about it, and it doesn’t bother me to see it (I said kiss -- get your mind out of the gutter). There may even be men working in the public schools who are attracted to [a man | my cousin]! Who cares; get over it.
In some parts of the country, it would be legal for me to marry [a man | my cousin]. In other parts, it would not be. In some parts, such a relationship would be given some legal protection but would have additional restrictions placed on it that don’t apply to other marriages. I have some thoughts on this situation:
One: More loving, committed people should get married. More people who are not loving or committed should refrain. Marriage does not need to be defended from my efforts to marry [a man | my cousin]. There are plenty of couples who are legally allowed to marry anywhere they like who are doing a fine job of messing up The Institution on their own, thank you very much. Defend marriage from them.
Two: Regardless of what I think, however, the decision of who can marry in a particular place is the business of the people who live there and none of mine. Massachusetts will let me marry [a man | my cousin]. Are you from Massachusetts (and this includes you, Federal Government)? No? Then mind your own business. Wyoming will not let me marry [a man | my cousin]. If you live in Massachusetts or Wyoming and disagree with your fellow citizens, then get together some like-minded individuals and try to change some minds. Just such efforts are ongoing in both pro and con states, and are to be applauded.
Three: Whatever our differences state-to-state, we live in one nation. Contracts made in one state are, in most cases, still in force when the parties move to a different state (although disputes may have to be settled in the original locale). A marriage contract between [my manly lover | my incestuous paramour] and I should be no different. If we’re married in Massachusetts and later move to Wyoming, we are certainly still married; the law should recognize that fact. The state of Wyoming has no more power to dissolve a contract made in Massachusetts than the people of the Commonwealth have to force those of Wyoming to allow such a contract in the first place.
It’s time to breathe deeply and recognize that it is not the State’s business -- nor yours, nor mine -- to tell people whom they may love or with whom they may be in relationship. Apart from the obvious ridiculousness of such a thing, do you really want that responsibility? Do you really want to grant it to someone else?
By the same token, and to the extent that the State is of, by, and for the people, it is not the business of one group of people to tell another the laws by which they must govern themselves.
Somewhere in between these two truths, things get messy. What a blessing that we have 50 opportunities to get it right! Let’s use them wisely.
“Texas?!” you say? Oh, did you think Lauren and Christine were gay? (Did you perhaps think that those two sultry ladies in the picture were Lauren and Christine? Tune out the lipstick lesbians, please, and try to focus on the topic at hand, if you can. If you must know, Lauren is a man, and Christine, like many figments, is infertile. Not that it’s any of your business.) No, they’re first cousins. Minnesota, like Mississippi, New Hampshire, and many other states, does not permit cousin marriage. Texas -- like Florida, California (and you were about to be smug -- well, stop it), and many others, does allow it. Each state makes its own laws in this area, and not many people pay cousin marriage much attention. It’s not what you would call a Wedge Issue.
For reasons I don’t fully understand, many people in this country consider going to the family reunion to pick up chicks perfectly acceptable -- so long as you’re not a chick yourself. Perhaps this is because cousin marriage, unlike gay marriage, goes way back. (Gay relationships go way back; gay marriage does not.) If you live in a primitive village of 200 people and have no internal combustion engine to carry you more than a few miles from home, your options may be limited. ...Not that that was necessarily an excuse. Cleopatra, queen of all Egypt, consort to generals and kings, and renowned looker and sharp cookie, had a family “tree” that looked more like a ladder. But I digress.
In particular, the Bible doesn’t have anything to say against kissing cousins. For goodness’ sake, the hero of the Sodom and Gomorra story got with both of his daughters. Bible or no Bible, no state would give that the green light. And there are plenty of things in that Good Book that we don’t much mind today, like rules against cutting your hair or eating shellfish. Striking a parent used to get you the death penalty; no more, much to the dismay of many modern parents, I’m sure.
Let’s be honest: You don’t want a dude to marry another dude because the idea of getting with a dude just seriously grosses you out. It’s no more complex than that. But unless you’re a CousinCouples member (and you know who you are -- Lauren), I’ll bet the idea of getting with a family member pretty much grosses you out, too. In order to explore these feelings a little, the remainder of this essay may be read as being either about cousins or gay people. The next time you pick up an article on gay marriage, you might try making similar verbal substitutions. The results may give you something to think about.
For the record, I agree with you all: the idea of kissing [a man | my cousin] is not appealing to me. Fortunately, regardless of which state I live it, no one is likely to compel me in this matter. The thought of someone else kissing [a man | my cousin], on the other hand, bothers me not in the least. It doesn’t bother me intellectually, it doesn’t bother me to hear about it, and it doesn’t bother me to see it (I said kiss -- get your mind out of the gutter). There may even be men working in the public schools who are attracted to [a man | my cousin]! Who cares; get over it.
In some parts of the country, it would be legal for me to marry [a man | my cousin]. In other parts, it would not be. In some parts, such a relationship would be given some legal protection but would have additional restrictions placed on it that don’t apply to other marriages. I have some thoughts on this situation:
One: More loving, committed people should get married. More people who are not loving or committed should refrain. Marriage does not need to be defended from my efforts to marry [a man | my cousin]. There are plenty of couples who are legally allowed to marry anywhere they like who are doing a fine job of messing up The Institution on their own, thank you very much. Defend marriage from them.
Two: Regardless of what I think, however, the decision of who can marry in a particular place is the business of the people who live there and none of mine. Massachusetts will let me marry [a man | my cousin]. Are you from Massachusetts (and this includes you, Federal Government)? No? Then mind your own business. Wyoming will not let me marry [a man | my cousin]. If you live in Massachusetts or Wyoming and disagree with your fellow citizens, then get together some like-minded individuals and try to change some minds. Just such efforts are ongoing in both pro and con states, and are to be applauded.
Three: Whatever our differences state-to-state, we live in one nation. Contracts made in one state are, in most cases, still in force when the parties move to a different state (although disputes may have to be settled in the original locale). A marriage contract between [my manly lover | my incestuous paramour] and I should be no different. If we’re married in Massachusetts and later move to Wyoming, we are certainly still married; the law should recognize that fact. The state of Wyoming has no more power to dissolve a contract made in Massachusetts than the people of the Commonwealth have to force those of Wyoming to allow such a contract in the first place.
It’s time to breathe deeply and recognize that it is not the State’s business -- nor yours, nor mine -- to tell people whom they may love or with whom they may be in relationship. Apart from the obvious ridiculousness of such a thing, do you really want that responsibility? Do you really want to grant it to someone else?
By the same token, and to the extent that the State is of, by, and for the people, it is not the business of one group of people to tell another the laws by which they must govern themselves.
Somewhere in between these two truths, things get messy. What a blessing that we have 50 opportunities to get it right! Let’s use them wisely.
That about does it for the abstract political reasoning. Now for the practical: if you are a Californian, please vote No on Proposition 8.
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