UU Pride Service Presentation 6.28.15 By Victoria L. Kidd So, first, let me say how humbled I am to have been asked to be a part of this very special service. This is a historic weekend for LGBT equality, and it’s very meaningful to me to be able to share it with you during your annual Pride Service. I have to say that when I was asked to be your speaker, I wrote a terrific presentation for you. I went through the impact that the three possible Supreme Court decisions would have on families like mine and what people of love and of faith would need to consider when reacting to those possible outcomes. Well, I am very excited to say that I needed to trash that presentation yesterday, because we don’t have to celebrate IF the Supreme Court will rule for marriage equality. We can now celebrate the fact that the Supreme Court HAS ruled for marriage equality. And, folks, Wow. What a moment in history to be alive to see. What a turning point in American’s stroy. We who witnessed Friday’s events cannot yet truly see the impact such will have forever after, because Friday was like a stone thrown into a millpond. But before we get into the details of what Friday means to me and what it can mean to all of us, I need to provide a brief introduction of who I am and what participation I have had in the fight for LGBT equality. I am from North Carolina originally. I was born in 1978, the same year the rainbow flag was adopted as the symbol of the LGBT rights movement, and just nine years after the riots at Stonewall. I graduated from high school in 1996 and went to East Carolina University directly thereafter. I did not live authentically in high school, although I knew I was different very early on in life. I was even rebuked in elementary school for playing house with another girl. You see my town was a small, conservative place that valued uniformity and feared that which was different. So I buried who I was and tried so hard to be what everyone wanted me to be, but things changed when I left home. Like all good college freshmen, I learned a lot about myself that first year. I spent a good deal of time fighting who I was as I struggled to reconcile this piece of my identity. Finally, I came out to my best friend right around the time Matthew Shepherd was murdered. The following year a classmate would state during an in-class debate over gay rights that she believed in a particular narrow interpretation of the bible that stated gays and lesbians were deplorable and the world would be better had we continued to execute them. I sat for a moment, thinking that this assertion should not go unchallenged. I took a deep breath, and I stood up in class, openly admitted that I was a lesbian, and invited her to cast the first stone, provided she was without sin of course. That moment changed my life. I was now openly gay, and as one of only a handful of openly gay students, I was asked to speak in classrooms and on panels hosted by my department. I was later asked to speak at my graduation, where I was awarded honor cords in recognition for my contribution to academic discussions and my openness about my sexuality. That same university would later come to recognize my LGBT advocacy again with a 40Under40 award honoring outstanding ECU alumni under the age of 40…Glad to say that I still barely make the cut! Today, my wife and I are widely recognized as the plaintiffs in the ACLU/Lambda Legal class-action suit for marriage equality. The class eventually joined an ongoing case filed in another district. After a bit of time, I sat in a Fourth Circuit courtroom when a panel of three judges debated our attorneys regarding the merits of the marriage equality argument. The court would ultimately determine that marriage is a fundamental right and would rule in our favor. The decision would be appealed to the Supreme Court, and on October 6th of last year, the Supreme Court would decide they would not hear the case, allowing the decision to stand and bringing marriage equality to VA. For me, receiving the phone call from our attorneys that made me aware of the court’s decision was one of the most impactful and memorable moments of my life. I knew what was at stake. I knew that the decision, and our
actions, impacted more than just our family. We represented nearly 20,000 households in VA through our class- action status. Furthermore, the Fourth Circuit’s decision would certainly be applied to West Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina—the non-equality states covered by its decisions, with D.C. and Maryland already recognizing same-sex marriages. There are several estimates out there, but conservative estimates indicate that this ruling had and has the potential to impact as many as 75,000 households total. So, we secured marriage equality locally, but many states (including ones to which we often traveled) held tight to their bans. And then, just a few months later, we get Friday’s decision. Let me read you something meaningful from that ruling: “No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right.” Wow. Power language. A powerful moment to observe as a long-time advocate for equality. My involvement in marriage equality litigation complements the other volunteer work and long-term monetary support that are a part of my LGBT rights legacy. But my work is not yet finished. That legacy is not yet completely defined. I continue to be interested in many issues impacting LGBT people. But, I joined the fight for marriage equality specifically for a variety of reasons. First and foremost I wanted to protect my family. When the doctor placed my little baked potato of a daughter in my arms in 2012, I knew this child would forever after be my reason for living. However, state laws precluded me from being her legally recognized parent. Not only could I not be recognized on Lydia’s birth certificate, but also I could not even adopt her. I was only able to apply for a co-custodianship agreement that essentially meant I had the right to have her with me in the absence of Christy, her birth mother. Being a co- custodian is a far cry from being a parent. I often joke that there are no Hallmark cards for co-custodians in the mother’s day section. (Believe me, I checked.) Aside from the implications that the state’s ban on marriage equality had for Lydia’s relationship with me, there were impactful implications for the relationship I had with my partner of now eleven years. Christy, a veteran, could not sign a VA home loan with me, barring her from the benefits her military service afforded her. Each year, we paid thousands of dollars more in taxes because we were not able to file jointly. We had to have complicated and unnecessary conversations with doctors, insurance offices, and other professionals serving our family. Christy went to work in DC and by day was considered married with a family and returned home to a state where she was considered a single mother. The implications of the state’s ban on marriage equality echoed through every part of our lives. What’s more, the ban allowed and encouraged others to see us as “less than.” To see our family as “less than.” When the law says you are second-class citizens, people treat you like second-class citizens. I’ve had people refuse to sit next to me. I’ve had people stop me in the street to tell me how much they lament for my "doomed soul" or to exclaim in disgust that I would have the audacity to “subject a child to my perverted lifestyle.” And, much more… As a person who has been subjected to far, far worse discrimination and hate than thankfully most people experience in their lives….as a person denied promotions and fair treatment at work…as a person subjected to violence, up to and including the threat of rape….as a person spit on by strangers, abandoned by family, and rejected by friends, those things did not deter me, because I knew something they didn’t.
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