So it’s late and I should sleep, but I just read the news that the U.S. Supreme Court has declared the Second Amendment protects individuals’ right to have a gun. My first reaction: wow, that’s incredibly stupid.
Funny to me that I was already thinking about the absurdity of the U.S. with regards to same-sex marriage before stumbling on the this right to bear arms news. Tonight, I also read The Stranger’s Queer Issue discussing same-sex marriage and the recent events in California. The paper somewhat tongue-in-cheek, somewhat seriously presented arguments why gays and lesbians should NOT run to California and get married. It piqued my interest because I also DON’T want to run to California to get married. But it turns out, my chief argument didn’t seem to get included in any of the various articles.
So why I don’t I want to run to California and get married? I wouldn’t get married in California because it’s a complete farce. There’s simply no “marriage equality” in the U.S. and California is no exception. A same-sex marriage in California means nothing in the eyes of the federal government and most other U.S. states. Well, perhaps, not “nothing.” A marriage certificate in California does give U.S. Immigration the right to deny my partner from ever entering the U.S. again. *pause for sarcastic burn to wear off* In the states which outright ban same-sex marriage, it also condones blatant discrimination in all levels of society. And in public opinion, it entitles one to become a “threat” to society. A marriage license between two people of the same sex also licenses the general American society—including the media—to openly debate the validity of their relationship and the soundness of their mental health. Lovely, isn’t it?
Sometimes, I am surprised why anyone would expect me to be excited at news like California allowing same-sex marriage. It’s a lot too little and lot too late. Ten years ago I would have been ecstatic. Back then, I would have thought that full marriage equality was just around the corner. I didn’t realize back then that the reason same-sex marriage wasn’t legal a long time ago was not because of the “nature of American politics” but because of the nature of America. I still stupidly believe in those days that the U.S. had some “enduring vision” (title of my college U.S. history textbook) that made it different from any other “ordinary” country. I thought that I had gained a pretty enlightened viewpoint in realizing that the U.S. had made mistakes but that it’s uniqueness was in being able to rectify its mistakes. Well, that is the sum of my college history lesson. It’s far better than my primary school history class which just taught us that the U.S. was the “bestest place in the whole wide world.”
Anyways, ten years ago I was more optimistic. After painfully realizing that *gasp* the U.S. not only has discrimination, but it’s snail-like pace in dealing with it pretty much amounts to denial of this discrimination in the first place. More simply put, poll after poll shows that Americans are perfectly content to discriminate against gays and lesbians. What I perceive to be a “problem” is a source of pride for others. That’s how much of a cultural gap there is between me and the U.S. Granted, I know there are some other Americans who agree that denying same-sex marriage is indeed discrimination, but they are still the minority for now.
But time moved on, and I had a life to live. It didn’t take more than a few years before I stopped “waiting” for the day when the majority would decide that I was an equal human being and deserved full civil rights. I took matters into my own hands and left the U.S. so I could pursue “life, liberty, and happiness”. Maybe I’m sounding like a broken record here to some people.
The fact is that I am still, for lack of a better word, grieving. It seems strange to use such a emotional word with political issues, what I used to think were fundamentally impersonal issues. But I’ve find that nationality is not equal to politics and is indeed a very personal issue. But the strange thing is that we don’t seem to have any words to give justice to this relationship between a person and their country of origin (c.f. family relationships).
I am not only grieving over the loss of identity as being part of “the bestest place in whole wide world” or at least one with an “enduring vision” (identities which I realized now never really existed). But I am also really pissed. I still, for some dumb reason, hold out hope that the U.S. really can rectify itself. I hope that this year’s election will be the mark of something better. I hope that the U.S. could be a fore-runner in the world on issues like human rights (including the right to a livable planet). But then I see news like today that the U.S. is more concerned with the right for people to own weapons of destruction than the right to breathe clean air. I feel immense disappointment.
I do believe things are changing in the U.S. and I am happy to see progress. But frankly I’ve given up in expecting much from the U.S. I’m hard pressed to think of why so many think that the U.S. is somehow “special” in the world’s nations. I can only come to the conclusion the U.S.’s strong power and influence over the world comes from a line of favorable historical “accidents”. But I fear that rejecting this doctrine of manifest destiny (which still seems to exists in modern America) is the ultimate act of “unpatriotism.” And I wonder if there is no hope for reconciling the relationship between me and the U.S.
