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Community Matters
November 16th, 2009
Sandra and I were watching Ellen and Portia on Oprah last night. Among other moments, they shared video footage of their beautiful wedding, and naturally, I started crying.
When I came out in 1998, Ellen had just come out the year before. I remember well the repercussions on her public career, as well as the reactions in all forms of popular media. I remember being totally unsurprised. She took the first, really big, really GIANT, step for popular gay rights. And it wasn’t going to be easy. She’d made waves; big ones. She went from the girl next door to an abomination in the eyes of many, simply for speaking honestly about what many people had to have assumed already.
What surprises me, if I think about it as I did last night, is how very far we’ve come in the last decade. My committed relationship is legally recognized by the country where I live. How amazing is that? I have the legal – and social – right to call Sandra my wife. Without quotes. Without joking. And although there have been so many setbacks in the States in the last year, I can’t help but think that progress there will come soon enough, and surely, in the decade still to come.
I’ve written before about personal activism and how I firmly believe that being honest, being unafraid, and being out is the key to changing minds, to getting more of THEM to be on OUR side when the votes matter. I’ve written before how our allies need to be out and vocal as well; as a believer in equal rights for all. It’s too easy for people to think they’ve never met someone gay, or someone who believed in equal rights. Let’s continue to prove them wrong. This is an issue that matters.
But also, on top of activism, there’s the idea of community. In the past, the gay community was the only place anyone could feel safe being out. Whether it was private clubs (or circles of friends), bars, or political organizations, keeping your true personality inside the community was once essential for North Americans, even in big cities. Even when I came out in central Illinois, I wasn’t immediately out to my friends at all. My first conversations about the me I was discovering were in my gay and lesbian studies classes, in my weekly Rainbow Coffeeshop volunteer sessions, and in the community online. Community was everything. The only place I could feel totally comfortable. The only place that seemed to not view me through rainbow-tinted glasses.
Now, things have changed for me. Although we ran into so much homophobia (and ignorance) in Calgary, Toronto is more open and accepting. I rarely go a day without seeing gay couples being affectionate in public. I never have to explain what I mean when I use the word ‘wife’. (I’m not the only woman I know here who even HAS a wife!) I am no longer the only out person at work. My straight friends here truly see me and my wife as no different than any other married couple, just maybe with a little more yarn in the house.
So, is this idea of community becoming less important as we’re growing less and less afraid of just living our lives? Does community still matter?
I spent seven days at the end of October on vacation on an Olivia cruise. If you’re not familiar with Olivia, it’s a company that started in the midst of the gay rights movement of the 70s. Originally, it was a record label to promote women in music. Now, it’s an upscale travel company, organizing a dozen or so trips a year for women only. Trips range from tiny and exclusive adventure travel tours to large cruises and all inclusive resorts. The prices and destinations may vary, but what doesn’t is that everyone on the trip will be a woman, and nearly all, lesbian or bisexual.
Spending a week in the company of women (except for the ship’s staff) is a pretty unbelievable experience. 1300 in this case. There’s love and drama and big personalities, of course, but there’s also this all-too-fleeting feeling of being in absolutely the right little world for maybe the first time ever.
Renewal. Joy. Inclusion. Comfort. Friendliness. Diversity.
Breathing a little easier without spending even a second worried about reactions to words like “lesbian” “partner” and “wife”. Being reminded that if we don’t continue to vocalize our lives, if we don’t continue to fight for equality, it’ll never come.
And really, at the heart of it, the fight we’re in is for that community to keep growing until it includes everyone, gay or straight, and where we can all feel equally comfortable to just live these diverse little lives of ours in peace.
So yes, community still matters, even after all the changes we’ve seen in the last decade, in the last two decades. Community reminds us of who we are, where we come from, and where we can go together.
Running FOR something
August 17th, 2009
On September 27, 2009, I will be finishing a Half-Marathon run/walk in the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon while raising funds for Epilepsy Toronto. Whether I run part of it, or walk all of it, doesn’t really matter. I’m going out there in support of Epilepsy Toronto and what they do.
As you may or may not know, I was diagnosed with Epilepsy a few days before my 21st birthday. I have bouts of partial-complex seizures that, while not harmful or even obvious to an observer, are disturbing and disruptive.
My seizures are far from what you might expect when you hear the term “Epilepsy”. I don’t convulse or lose consciousness. Instead, my seizures start with an aura of a kind; usually a smell like bacon and pancakes. (I know, weird, right?) And then, a metallic taste in the back of my mouth. I feel nauseous and just… well… wrong for about 60 seconds or so. After that wave of feeling passes, I’m back to normal, except a little more tired and feeling slightly out of place in the world.
When I was first diagnosed, I was terrified that it meant my life was over. After all, this is a pretty big and scary word when you only know what you hear in the media. I envisioned never being able to play nintendo, much less make a career of programming computers. I imagined needing a service animal (Cooper?) to help me cope with life. I anticipated never being able to drive on my own again.
Being diagnosed was all about fearing the freedoms I’d lose in my life.
As I worked through the list of anti-seizure drugs to find something that allowed me to physically get off the floor of my bedroom without falling over, I started to learn a few things about Epilepsy. And as I found a drug that made my life better rather than worse, I also learned one very important thing.
My life is not defined by this condition.
I didn’t have to stop doing the things I enjoyed. I didn’t have to change my decisions. I could still drive, provided my seizures stayed the same. I didn’t have to worry about losing my ability to think, to write, to learn, and to love.
In the past years, I’ve been almost entirely free of seizures. Whether it’s something I’ve more or less grown out of, no one knows. For an information junkie like me, it’s incredibly frustrating that despite all the neurologists and tests, no one has ever determined anything about the source, cause, or behavior of these seizures. I’ve been diagnosed strictly based on my descriptions of the episodes.
There’s a lot more information out there now for folks getting diagnosed with Epilepsy, or who suspect might have a seizure disorder. Organizations like Epilepsy Toronto do so much to help children and adults learn, get support, and live better lives.
Please support Epilepsy Toronto by pledging me for this event. Every little bit helps! If you care to pledge, please visit my sponsorship page. My goal for the event is $250CAD, but I’m hoping to raise what I can to help improve the lives of other folks living with Epilepsy.
Please sponsor me today!
Runrunrunrunrun!
July 31st, 2009
It’s something Sandra yells at the dogs at the off leash park, and now it’s something I’m working on too.
Some minor moment of insanity prompted me to register for the Midsummer Night’s Run on August 22. All 15k of it. And yes, I’ve gone running a few times this summer, but never for more than 20 minutes at a time, and never actually running the entire time. See, I’d gotten this idea to train up to a 5k by doing those standard intervals; 60 seconds walking, 90 seconds running, 60 seconds walking, etc.
Yeah.
2 minutes to 15k in less than 4 weeks? Insane? Recipe for failure, or worse, for injury?
On Wednesday morning, a little less than 24 hours after I’d plunked down my $60 registration fee, I got out of bed at quarter to 7 and strapped on my shoes and iPod and headed out to see what I was really capable of. I decided to skip the interval work, just do a good long warm up and then run for as long as I could do while breathing properly and… well… not crying or throwing up.
Without even realizing it, I ran all the way to High Park, almost 3km.
And then proceeded to run and walk for another 4 or 5km loop towards home.
As it turns out, all the walking I’d been doing added up to something significant. I wasn’t out of breath, I didn’t feel bad… I felt good… real good. And so proud that I was in better shape than I’d anticipated.
This morning was my second time out, and I ran for a solid 4.6km without stopping or walking and it was still good, and happy, and (dare I say it?)… easy.
As the kid in school who couldn’t run even a mile, I find it a little baffling that I ran almost 3 miles this morning in the time it used to take me to do a few laps walking around the high school track. And while I’m sore, and my muscles are a little bit whiny today, I feel really really really good.
And can’t wait to run again this weekend.
I have another 8 or 9 training runs before the 15k. My goal is just to finish it by whatever means necessary. Right now, I’m shooting for running the first 8km straight, then walking and running the second 7km to the finish line, where Sandra will be waiting in the beer garden.