Left2Right: why I can't support same-sex marriage, and my response.
Left2Right: why I can't support same-sex marriage
Let me paint you a little picture, David. My partner and I have been together for seven years. We live (thank God) in South Africa, where our country’s constitution protects our human rights. We already can legally adopt children together, we have the same rights as straight couples should (god forbid) either of us decide to leave our partnership, we have recourse to legal action should we feel prejudiced against on the basis of our sexual orientation, and, in the not to distant future, we can, legally, marry. I am so proud of being a South African, not just because of Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu, Nadine Gordimer, J. M. Coetzee and Nkosi Johnson, but because I am a part of the nation that is, after years of struggle, one of the most constitutionally perfect in the world. We are people centered.
But consider this. I am an academic, and will be traveling to Sweden the week after next for a conference. My partner, also an academic, but not a participant of this conference, nonetheless wants to travel with me in order to do some sight-seeing. Every married congress participant was invited to “bring your family”, and accommodation etc. is provided as appropriate. Because my marriage is not yet recognized, my ‘spouse’, while included in the invitation from the conference organizers, is not recognized as such by the Swedish embassy. The result? It is proving surprisingly difficult to secure her a visa, and she may be forced to remain at home. Now imagine, for a moment, that we had a child. Imagine that our child was conceived by my partner with the assistance of a sperm donor. By current South African law, whether her parents marriage is recognized or not, our child could have both my and Victoria’s names on her birth certificate. Even if it proved impossible to secure a visa for Victoria, provided both she and I signed the application forms, there is no legally-recognized reason why our child could not secure a visa in order to travel with me. If, however, the names on her birth certificate were Victoria’s and a sperm donor who none of us has ever met, and who has no desire or intention of being involved in the life of the child recognized as biologically his, this unfortunate individual would have to be tracked down, and his signature acquired on the visa application in order that such application could be made. He would have more legal rights to our child than I would. And I would have fewer rights than a woman who gives her child up for adoption because she fell pregnant when either too drunk, or too high to remember who the father is, and didn’t have the money for an abortion. Listing Victoria and I as “Parent A” and “Parent B” on our child’s birth certificate is a practical matter, as much as an emotional one. I want to be recognized as the parent of my child. And calling me her “father” is a little on the implausible side.
Ok, one more brief sketch, and I’ll leave you be. I have already mentioned that I am an academic. Earlier this year, I was awarded a very prestigious scholarship to pursue a five-year Phd program at an acclaimed US university. Unfortunately, the size of an academic’s salary in South Africa is not sufficient to support a family, and it is imperative, therefore, that my partner and I both have good careers before we begin our family. I really have no choice but to accept this scholarship, then, as the qualification that it will afford me is imperative to my establishing both my intellectual reputation, and a well-paying academic position. The difficulty is, however, that even though my marriage will be recognized in South Africa in a matter of months, it will not be recognized in the United States. The result is that my wife will be unable to acquire the visa usually granted to spouses of foreign students, and we are unable to access the additional stipend money provided should I marry before taking up my scholarship. We are also unable to make use of university-provided couples accommodation, or append Victoria to my medical insurance as a “dependant.” The result is that we are to live apart for the next five years. We have cut into our already overstretched savings in order to budget for two visits a year during the time I am away, but we are unlikely to see each other for more than a total of 8 weeks each year. Impose that prerequisite on straight, married foreign students, and lets see who hollers. And remember, too, that we are relatively well-off. Many of the foreign students that attend American universities will struggle to afford international telephone calls.
There are many more reasons than recognition of equal parental rights for supporting the recognition of same-sex marriage, and while some lucky individuals may feel justified in turning down “second-class” rights, many of us will take what we can get, in the mean time, and continue the struggle.
Let me paint you a little picture, David. My partner and I have been together for seven years. We live (thank God) in South Africa, where our country’s constitution protects our human rights. We already can legally adopt children together, we have the same rights as straight couples should (god forbid) either of us decide to leave our partnership, we have recourse to legal action should we feel prejudiced against on the basis of our sexual orientation, and, in the not to distant future, we can, legally, marry. I am so proud of being a South African, not just because of Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu, Nadine Gordimer, J. M. Coetzee and Nkosi Johnson, but because I am a part of the nation that is, after years of struggle, one of the most constitutionally perfect in the world. We are people centered.
But consider this. I am an academic, and will be traveling to Sweden the week after next for a conference. My partner, also an academic, but not a participant of this conference, nonetheless wants to travel with me in order to do some sight-seeing. Every married congress participant was invited to “bring your family”, and accommodation etc. is provided as appropriate. Because my marriage is not yet recognized, my ‘spouse’, while included in the invitation from the conference organizers, is not recognized as such by the Swedish embassy. The result? It is proving surprisingly difficult to secure her a visa, and she may be forced to remain at home. Now imagine, for a moment, that we had a child. Imagine that our child was conceived by my partner with the assistance of a sperm donor. By current South African law, whether her parents marriage is recognized or not, our child could have both my and Victoria’s names on her birth certificate. Even if it proved impossible to secure a visa for Victoria, provided both she and I signed the application forms, there is no legally-recognized reason why our child could not secure a visa in order to travel with me. If, however, the names on her birth certificate were Victoria’s and a sperm donor who none of us has ever met, and who has no desire or intention of being involved in the life of the child recognized as biologically his, this unfortunate individual would have to be tracked down, and his signature acquired on the visa application in order that such application could be made. He would have more legal rights to our child than I would. And I would have fewer rights than a woman who gives her child up for adoption because she fell pregnant when either too drunk, or too high to remember who the father is, and didn’t have the money for an abortion. Listing Victoria and I as “Parent A” and “Parent B” on our child’s birth certificate is a practical matter, as much as an emotional one. I want to be recognized as the parent of my child. And calling me her “father” is a little on the implausible side.
Ok, one more brief sketch, and I’ll leave you be. I have already mentioned that I am an academic. Earlier this year, I was awarded a very prestigious scholarship to pursue a five-year Phd program at an acclaimed US university. Unfortunately, the size of an academic’s salary in South Africa is not sufficient to support a family, and it is imperative, therefore, that my partner and I both have good careers before we begin our family. I really have no choice but to accept this scholarship, then, as the qualification that it will afford me is imperative to my establishing both my intellectual reputation, and a well-paying academic position. The difficulty is, however, that even though my marriage will be recognized in South Africa in a matter of months, it will not be recognized in the United States. The result is that my wife will be unable to acquire the visa usually granted to spouses of foreign students, and we are unable to access the additional stipend money provided should I marry before taking up my scholarship. We are also unable to make use of university-provided couples accommodation, or append Victoria to my medical insurance as a “dependant.” The result is that we are to live apart for the next five years. We have cut into our already overstretched savings in order to budget for two visits a year during the time I am away, but we are unlikely to see each other for more than a total of 8 weeks each year. Impose that prerequisite on straight, married foreign students, and lets see who hollers. And remember, too, that we are relatively well-off. Many of the foreign students that attend American universities will struggle to afford international telephone calls.
There are many more reasons than recognition of equal parental rights for supporting the recognition of same-sex marriage, and while some lucky individuals may feel justified in turning down “second-class” rights, many of us will take what we can get, in the mean time, and continue the struggle.
posted by choirgirl at 1:02 PM
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