Hollywood Racism, Julie Plec & The Vampire Diaries



Ray Rice: The Domestic Violence Perspective

I want to begin by stating that I know absolutely nothing about sports. When I say nothing, I’m not exaggerating. My knowledge of sports is about as comprehensive as a headline at the top of Yahoo’s Home Page, so pardon me if my perspective seems a little skewed.

I believe that there are several facets to this story that can be explored, but I wanted to start off with one of the most obvious: The domestic violence perspective.

As someone who has worked in the field of human services for more than a decade, I have seen all types of people walk through the doors of my various offices. Some of my most poignant experiences were with women that had been victims of domestic violence.

When I use the term victim, I am considering the legal term associated with being the person beaten and not the abuser. There are other victims of domestic violence: children and other family members especially, that become collateral damage when anger and abuse strike at the heart of a home.

When I watched the 3-minute video of Ray Rice and his then fiancée posted by TMZ on Monday, my heart sank for several reasons. I watched it more than once so I could make sure I didn’t miss anything.

In the first part of the video, it appears that Mr. Rice is waiting for Janay and, as she passes him, it looks as though he spits on her. She swats at him in response and appears to say something while heading to the elevator.

The scene then cuts to their argument in the elevator where it appears, at least to me, like he either spits on her again, or says something in her ear. Whatever his action was, it resulted in her turning around and coming toward him. Rice then punches her in mid-stride and she falls, hitting the railing of the elevator and falling unconscious on the floor.

The elevator doors open and Rice picks her up and attempts to drag her out of the elevator with one shoe falling off her limp foot. She isn’t moving. When he can’t seem to pick her up after multiple attempts, he then holds the door open and begins dragging her again.

It looks as if a security guard stops them and holds the elevator door open while Janay is pulled into a sitting position.

None of us have any real idea of what happened before the camera started rolling or after the video ended. It was a 3:34 minute snapshot of a relationship.

As a woman, I begin to question several things as I watched it. First, I asked myself if this was the first time he had hit her. Then I asked myself if it mattered whether or not it was the first time. There’s no way to know what is in either of their hearts and what goes on behind the closed doors of their home.

All we see is 3:34 minutes of anger and pain between two people who, after this event took place earlier this year, still decided to marry.

It is easy to speculate while sitting on the sidelines of all this. Anyone can criticize the actions of someone else when they are not in the situation themselves; when they are far removed from the event and don’t know the people involved. It is easy to judge. It is easy to cast blame, even in the span of 3:34.

Since I don’t know either of these people personally, I’m going to try to delve into a couple of different aspects of this from a domestic violence perspective.

Domestic violence is defined by the U.S. Department of Justice as “a pattern of abusive behavior in any relationship that is used by one partner to gain or maintain power and control over another intimate partner.  Domestic violence can be physical, sexual, emotional, economic, or psychological actions or threats of actions that influence another person. This includes any behaviors that intimidate, manipulate, humiliate, isolate, frighten, terrorize, coerce, threaten, blame, hurt, injure, or wound someone.”

(Here is the link to the page: http://www.justice.gov/ovw/domestic-violence.)

When we use this definition, even a three-minute snapshot of someone’s life can at least determine that this would be considered Domestic Violence. It can happen in any demographic and with any socioeconomic status.

Should a three-minute video define Ray Rice as an abuser forever? Should this snapshot of his life and his relationship mean that he should lose his career and financial stability?

Let’s take a look at it for a moment. Had he ever hit her before? We don’t know. Did he hit her after this incident? Still: we don’t know. Did he seek counseling for anger management? Did she seek counseling for her aggressive behavior toward him? These are all facts that we, as the viewing public, don’t have.

I’m not going to define Ray Rice forever because I just don’t know what happened since this incident. I’m not going to say that Janay Rice is stupid for staying with him because I don’t know if he had redeemed himself appropriately in her eyes since the incident.

What I do know is that Ray Rice’s career is over and his reputation is damaged forever because three minutes of videotape. Should it? I don’t know.

My concern is also from a legal standpoint: As far as I know, neither Ray Rice nor Janay have been charged with assault. I don’t know how I would feel about losing my job for an incident in which had not been tried and convicted in a court of law. Advertisers can take away their endorsement deals if it is in the contract, but can the NFL suspend him indefinitely? I suppose if there is a morals clause in his contract, then they have that authority.

The only way he can redeem himself in the public’s eyes and have a shot at any career again is to discuss what he did after the incident. Does he believe he was wrong? How has he changed? Has he gone to therapy?

It is difficult to feel empathy or sympathy for someone that views himself as a victim of publicity when he was not the one lying unconscious on the elevator floor.

Now, about Janay.

I read her tweet after TMZ posted the video. As someone who worked with victims of domestic violence, I can see her perspective. She and her husband have dealt with the situation and having it resurface publically only reopens the wound. Still, I just don’t agree with her. I can’t.

Mostly because I believe the following:

  • No woman deserves to be hit; especially by someone who claims to love her.
  • One incident is enough to show you the character of the person.
  • Being hit when he’s drunk doesn’t just mean that he only has a drinking problem. He also has an aggression problem that needs to be addressed.

Self-esteem is important in any relationship. A man that strips that from you and then tries to beat you into submission is no man at all.

Still, I don’t think all is lost for Mr. Rice. Hopefully, he and his wife have been through counseling to find ways to resolve their issues without alcohol or violence. Hopefully there can be a happy ending for this family.

Eventually, the dust will settle. The cameras will stop following them. TMZ will stop posting things (someday). The news reports will go back to other, more current topics.

Life as we know it will go on.

Then again, we do live in a society of consumption, and for some reason, I see a reality television show in their future? Something called “Fried Rice” perhaps?

Robin Williams: The Burden of Being Brilliant

I have not posted anything regarding the death of Robin Williams because I wanted to stay out of the discussion in honor of his family and his memory. I agree with his wife: I felt it was more important to focus on how he lived than how he died.

After all, none of us are the sum total of how we leave this world, but what we do while we are here. Did we make a positive impact? Did we do something that changed someone’s life for the better?

I think that in the case of Robin Williams, the answer to both of those questions would be “yes.”

Rather than go into detail regarding his passing, I do think it is important to address the circumstances that apparently lead to his death: depression.

I have been in the human service field for 13 years. I have worked with hundreds of people with disabilities during that time; many of which were experiencing severe and chronic depression.

I’m not an expert and I don’t pretend to be. There is no M.D. or PhD behind my name, but I have seen what depression does to the human mind, the human heart, the human body, and the human spirit.

I have seen it take brilliant and talented people and turn them into frightened souls afraid to leave their homes. I have seen it cause physical pain and discomfort. I have seen it destroy lives and families. I have seen it force those suffering from it to turn to alcohol and drugs as an escape from the anguish that always returns.

I have seen it kill.

There is no easy solution to addressing it. For some, therapy provides a positive means of managing each crisis as it arises. For others, medication coupled with ongoing treatment by a professional is the answer.

It is a tough road to travel and many people find themselves travelling it alone. Without support and without treatment, recovery is almost impossible.

The pressures placed on the average person trying to support a family and live in this consumption-based society are hard enough to manage.

Can you imagine how challenging it was to be in the entertainment industry for 40 years? Can you imagine how difficult it would be to live up to not only your own expectations and your family’s expectations, but also the expectations of the world? Can you imagine what it was like to have to be funny all the time? What must it be like always having people expecting you to perform on a whim – and not just a few people, but millions? What must it be like to be known for your quick wit and improvisation?

Would you ever feel like you could just turn it off? Would you ever feel like you could go anywhere and just allow yourself some rest from having to be what everyone else expects of you all the time? Think of having millions of strangers look at you — waiting for you to do something spectacular.

What if you just didn’t have it in you anymore? What if you did have it in you, but you wanted to let it out on your terms and not someone else’s? What if you had to live this life under a microscope; to be judged by people you don’t even know and who don’t even know you? What if your entire career was based on your skill?

What if you felt weakened from it all? What if you felt like your suffering was burdening those around you, dragging the people you love along with you for the ride? What if you felt like you were causing the unhappiness of everyone you loved?

What if you felt like you had to medicate this never-ending pain just to survive, but you couldn’t go to a doctor, because the world would know and judge you for trying to give yourself enough strength to wake up in the morning and just be what they needed to you be?

What if the career you fought so hard to build and keep was now tearing you down?

What if, one day, it was just too much?

I never had the honor of meeting Robin Williams, but I saw him as an incredible entertainer, comedian, … a brilliant human being. He touched so many lives with his comedy and with acting on the large and small screens.

He was amazing, but there is a burden to being brilliant all the time.

We, as a society, really need to rethink how we treat stars, and this man was a star. Should we chase them down with our cameras and cell phones? Should we frequent entertainment websites that make money off the consumption of someone else’s talent? Should we continue to view them as perfect, and as such, expect them to be perfect all the time? Should we tear them down when they fail to meet our lofty expectations, allowing the media to make advertising along the way.

These are people, not products.

There is a difference between a celebrity and a star.

A celebrity is someone that wants to be consumed, even at his or her own peril. It is someone that has no talent for anything other than being in the limelight. (I’m certain you can come up with your own examples of people like this. I won’t give them the benefit of mentioning their names here.)

A star, however, is someone with a gift: someone that shares that gift with the world and makes it a better place just by being in it.

Robin Williams was a star and he needs to be remembered that way. Period.


It’s a Scandal

          It was my cousin’s idea really: She was the one who suggested that I get into watching the ABC show Scandal, so I did.

          I went on Netflix and began watching the first two seasons in preparation for the upcoming season. I’m the type of person that has to see the character development from start to finish. I have to know the backstory, so I spent days watching the show in sequence just to get a feel for it.

          I was intrigued and happily surprised by the great drama and dialogue. I was also happy to see the show’s creator was Shonda Rimes. Yay Hollywood.

          First, there was a strong, female lead in a role that showed her beauty, as well as her strength, poise, and intellect.

          Second, it was a woman of color, and I have to tell you that I was incredibly proud of that fact. Growing up, there were so very few people that looked like me on television. (Okay, Kerry Washington looks a lot better than I do, but that’s not my point.) Sure, I enjoyed the Cosby Show and Family Matters, but those were comedies. Hollywood just wasn’t ready to take the chance on establishing a show where the main character is a black woman – and a smart one at that.

          We have always been supporting characters, sometimes portrayed as lovers of the main character. We were two-dimensional plot fillers with little dialogue. Rarely was the depiction of a capable woman of color. We had attitude, but no depth. We were stereotypes.

          Now, there is a show on television that appeared to focus on a woman that was capable of being more than someone’s “arm candy.”

          As black women, we had finally and successfully gone from playing whore to playing heroine.

           So it gives me great displeasure to state that I’ve grown increasingly concerned with Season 3 of Scandal. The show is still good. Don’t get me wrong. The acting is great. The writing is well developed and complex. The storyline, however, is making me cringe at what they are doing to my favorite female lead.

            In Season 3, Olivia Pope has gone from intelligent, strong and formidable to naive, weak and gullible all because of her love for a man she can never have. This may possibly be realistic, but it is disappointing as far as the character  development is concerned.

          Let me first start by saying that while I like Kerry Washington’s compelling portrayal of Olivia Pope, I’m concerned about the fact that the “love of her life” is a married man who appears to be wrong for her in so many ways.

          Fitzgerald Grant is a powerful man, but he is only powerful because of what others have made him: governor and president. He is not powerful in his own right. His advisors push him in one direction or another and when he does finally try to take charge, he ends up drinking himself into oblivion and antagonizing those around him. He is indecisive and must rely on others to give him what he thinks he wants. He is his father’s son, that’s for sure.

          Yes, the house in Vermont was a romantic gesture, but he is not wiling to pull the plug on his marriage in order to make himself happy; and he’s not doing this for the kids. He’s not doing this for loyalty to his wife. He’s doing it to keep his job. That, to me, is the epitome of selfishness.

           I’m trying to fathom the reasons she is in love with this man and I’m still having difficulty finding them. He is not genuinely kind to anyone. He is a lousy father, much like his own but less overbearing. He is an intellectual, but he wields it with incompetence. He’s not good husband material in any way, shape, form or fashion. He has no concept of romantic loyalty.

Or humility and decency: this is the same person that fired her father from his job after holding the man hostage in a basement, chained to a chair. Oh, and he also spent that time describing how Olivia “tasted” and how “talented” she was in bed.

            Are you kidding me? Don’t say that to her parent and have the audacity to declare your love for her in the next breath.

          He has killed a judge in cold blood to protect the lie of his presidency. He flaunts his mistress in front of his wife, you know, the woman that gave birth to his children. He openly threatened his wife with political ruin by publicly calling her a racist if she did not play along with his goal of finding a way for the country to accept his mistress as his eventual First Lady.

          The only respect I have for him is that he served in the military and fought for his country, regardless of the personal moral cost… I do believe his character wants to do what is best for the country, and I find that noble. I just don’t like the idea of Olivia falling for the 20 % of the time when he’s actually worthwhile.

          What is he the other 80% of the time?

          He is first and foremost an adulterer. He is a father that has no real relationship with his children. He has no problem being cruel and cheating on the mother of those children. He has murdered a federal judge to hide his own indiscretions and retain his job. He has publicly lied about his exploits and has demonized an innocent staffer by naming her as his mistress and subjecting her to public humiliation, while the highest federal authorities in the country protect his true mistress.

          Despite Liv and Fitz’s longing glances and hopeful references to the (amazing I’ll admit it) house in Vermont. Despite their declarations of “I Love You,” she is still his mistress. She is still not his chosen one for the entire world to see.

          It’s not that he’s all that attractive – he doesn’t smolder or ooze sex appeal like one would think. He doesn’t present as particularly kind or altruistic. He doesn’t show himself to be a hopeless romantic, but rather a hapless drunk.

         Don’t get me wrong: I’m not asking for the romantic hero of the show to be perfect, but he should at least be able to cultivate and grow his own set of balls.

            The challenge for the show’s writers is that fans are so invested in this relationship, that they, like Olivia, look past everything else. I did for a while, but I have always felt badly for Mellie. Who can blame her for being bitter? Women are not born that way. They are molded and shaped that way by living a life that is not picture perfect and trying to find some semblance of happiness while wading through all of that heartache.

          I suppose I had it with Fitz when he told Olivia to “Shut up” two episodes ago. I beg your pardon: If I am making a valid point and you allegedly love me, don’t you dare say “Shut up,” to me.  I was surprised that she didn’t let him have it right then and there. After all, Olivia he had no problem giving a quick, but effective verbal slap in the face to Edison, who suggested that, well, she was sleeping with the President (which, by the way, was true.)

          I continue root for the “formidable Olivia Pope.” Not the relationship, but her. Art doesn’t just imitate life. Sometimes life imitates art by making some behavior, while questionable, commonly acceptable. I want to make sure that the little girls of this up and coming generation to have a positive character to look up to and hopefully emulate.  It’s a Scandal if the producers let this opportunity slip by.

Beautiful Girl

She was a beautiful girl, but she didn’t realize it until she was much older; when it was too late to savor the moment and hold onto it as long as possible.

To some, her complete denial of her own beauty must have made her even more attractive in many ways.

She was very thin at 17; so thin that she felt weak at times. A sinus infection would have her almost passing out as soon as she left her bed in the morning. Her primary care doctor insisted she gain at least 10 pounds and take Iron pills in order to give her the strength that a normal teenager should have.

She had black hair, brown eyes, and mocha-colored skin that was free from blemishes. She barely needed to wear makeup, so she refused – only putting on Avon’s Burgundy Brew shade of lipstick before heading out.

She was picked on growing up which forced her to hang her head low when walking down the hallways at school. Years later she would realize that hanging her head so low for so long in unjustified shame would cause her severe neck pain in the future.

Her family had wanted her to be more feminine; wear dresses, skirts and makeup to show off her lean, feminine frame. They wondered why she wasn’t more like her mother. Her mother carried herself with uncommon grace and poise regardless of where she was going. Her mother always dressed in flattering styles and colors. Her mother never left the house without carefully styled hair, makeup, and intoxicating perfume.

Her aunts and uncles always noted her appearance and wondered why she didn’t try harder to present herself better. They had daughters that “kept themselves up.” Why couldn’t she?

The images of this young woman were so deeply etched in their brains that any subtle change in her appearance disoriented them.

She had stopped wearing glasses when she was 12, but no one seemed to remember that fact even into her 30s. What they did remember was her enviable figure.

In college, she filled out more, but she was still wearing a size 6 when she graduated.

Years later, after getting married and having children as well as living life, her body began to change. Those changes were minor at first, but after the stresses of a divorce and changes in work environment, the pounds began to pile onto her tiny frame.

After 20 years, she gradually gained over 100 pounds without even realizing what it was doing to her body. Her blood pressure was increasing, as was her cholesterol, but these were silent enemies. They didn’t announce themselves nearly as loudly as the clothes she was no longer fitting into.

Slowly but surely, she could no longer deny it. She was getting fat. Not curvy. Not voluptuous. FAT. Some women can gain weight and carry it well. Their beauty shines through despite the extra pounds.

This girl was not so lucky.

The buttons on the pants she wore were making impressions in her stomach. She had to inhale just to get her size 8 pants on, so she moved to size 10, then size 12, then size 14, but she still was in denial. She didn’t look that bad; at least to herself.

Then came size 16, and the loss of the flat stomach that use to produce 100 sit-ups with very little effort. Gone were the Daisy Duke shorts…replaced by slacks and jeans with elastic waistbands. She dared not show her widening legs in a skirt or dress now.

Her back began to hurt. Her doctors became worried and soon, the medication followed.

Then some in her family began to look at her very differently. Rather than pride in her beauty, they instead expressed disappointment in how much she had let herself go. Their brows lowered, their lips pursed, and their heads shook.

In her mind, she was the same person. She continued to be smart, sweet, loving, and compassionate – but she was fat, so nothing else seemed to matter. Her aunt expressed concern regarding her health, and not her appearance. Her aunt had been diagnosed with type II Diabetes, and she didn’t want her niece to share the same fate.

I was that beautiful girl. I look at pictures of myself from when I was in high school and college and wonder what happened to her. That girl weighed 110 pounds. This woman weighs 248.

I have lived my life and while there are many things I would change, the only real regret is that I never appreciated myself then, but I need to appreciate myself now.  Losing weight is hard for just about everyone, but it is especially hard for me. I am my own worst enemy. I can find any way in the world to justify my lack of exercise and my aversion to consistently stay on a healthy diet. I will tell myself whatever lie works best that day, but the truth is, I’m hurting myself and my children by continuing on this path – a path I put myself on and one that only I can remove myself from.

The mind is a powerful tool and until now I have only used it to con myself into and out of things, rather than use it to strengthen my resolve.

This is the beginning of my journey. Will I get back to 110 again? Probably not, and honestly I don’t want to be 110 pounds again. My ideal weight is probably 125 -135, and I will get there. I have to get there. I have two children to care for and it is my duty to be around for them; to watch over them, guide them, protect them, and love them. God blessed me with them and I have to fight for them by fighting for myself.

I also have a husband that loves me and wants me healthy and happy. I’ve made promises to him too that go beyond the vows of the altar.

It is for my family that I do this. It is for their future, and mine, that I start this journey.


In Support of All Love Stories

          I have always been a romantic. When I was growing up, I would sit by the window in my den with a notebook and a pen, writing poetry and fantasizing about a “Prince Charming” that I wasn’t even sure existed. In my dreams, we would marry, have two children, and live in a large house with a wraparound porch and an oak tree in the front yard. It was a nice love story.

          As I have grown older, I have learned that there are all types of love stories other than the typical “boy meets girl.” Sometimes “boy meets boy.” Sometimes “girl meets girl.” Sometimes, love isn’t as clean-cut as a little girl’s dreams, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real and shouldn’t be valued just the same.

          Until now, I haven’t given my opinion on gay marriage for two simple reasons: First, I didn’t think I had the right to speak about the topic because I have always felt like an outsider because I’m straight. What experience can I bring to the table? What understanding do I have other than observation? Second, I didn’t think I could speak intelligently about the subject because I haven’t experienced the same stigma, discrimination, and other challenges that are faced by my friends in the LGBT community.

Still, I feel compelled to speak out in support of gay marriage, not for political reasons, but for personal ones. I have so many friends with same sex partners that are deeply in love. To me, it is illogical for them not to be allowed to get married and have that marriage recognized in every legal and social way possible.

I have personally seen just as many loving, long-term gay relationships as I have long-term straight relationships. In this world where unconditional love is incredibly hard to find – when meeting someone that shares your dreams, your goals and your values can be an almost impossible task, why prevent two people from committing themselves to one another if they so choose?

Perhaps I’m being too simplistic in my analysis. Why don’t I just discredit some of the arguments against gay marriage.


          Let’s start with the assertion by some that being gay is unnatural. My initial response is YES IT IS. I’m not an expert, but I knew at a very early age that I liked boys. It didn’t matter if they liked me or not, I liked them. I never had a doubt or a question. It was natural for me. It was something that I didn’t have to think about. Individuals who are gay (and this is just a guess) probably feel drawn to the same sex when they reach that critical age of sentience. The difference is that these individuals are often told that how they feel is “wrong.” They are sometimes told that who they are is wrong. They may not grow up with the benefit of a supported family that accepts them unconditionally.

Scores of gay and lesbian teenagers don’t enjoy this kind of comfort, and they deserve to feel loved and accepted for being themselves. They don’t deserve to feel marginalized, nor do they deserve to experience depression so severe that sometimes they feel no other choice than to take their own lives.

Being gay is not a choice! It is a fact. It is a reality and not something that can be created or changed by some external force.

Sexuality is so much more complicated that sex and romance. It is more complicated than the person you date. It is about the reason you date them. Sexual orientation is a part of a person’s identity and an important part. It includes a manner of feeling and relating to the world and to others. It encompasses an entire worldview as well as understanding one’s place in that world. It’s not simply a lifestyle – it is a life.

Once again: BEING GAY IS NOT A CHOICE. The only choice a person makes is whether or not they are true to who they are and date based on their attraction and happiness.


          It may shock some people to know that woman can get pregnant without being married to a man. I know. Scary isn’t it? Nevertheless, it happens quite often (too often actually, but that’s a blog for another time.)

At any rate, it doesn’t take a man and a woman to make a baby. It takes access to a sperm and an egg to make a baby. A family is made up of so much more, and in this ever-changing social climate, it doesn’t make much sense to simply limit the definition of family to heterosexual married man and woman.

While I can appreciate the reality that the sexes evolved to continue the human race, there is such a thing as adoption and in vitro fertilization that allow loving and committed couples have children and grow their own families.

There are also millions of children out there that need loving homes. Both gay and straight couples can provide a positive environment for children. Both gay and straight couples can teach children love and kindness, compassion and patience, honesty and forgiveness.

Oh, and one more thing: gay couples don’t make gay children simply due to proximity. Sexual orientation is not socially passed from one person to another.


            I have a confession to make: my guilty pleasure is watching the Maury show. I know. I know. It’s terrible of me and I don’t watch it every day. I suppose I could rationalize it by saying that it has to do with my curiosity at examining the human condition. I could say I’m engaging in some sociological research, but the truth is, it’s like watching a scary movie. You know it might scare the crap out of you, but you just can’t take your eyes off it for some reason.

Every now and again, I see these people – all straight – yelling and screaming at one another about how they got drunk and slept with someone; that the child on the television screen doesn’t look like them and they didn’t believe that one sexual encounter could result in a life being born. I watch them talk about threesomes and not knowing who the father of their child is, but chastising the person they brought to be tested for not “stepping up to be a parent.” I watch them talk about how “it just happened,” and “one thing led to another.”

Tell me something: how are these heterosexual hookups more valid relationships than two women that have loved each other for 15 years and want to enjoy the emotional, social, and legal benefits of marriage? How could this loving lesbian couple be damaging to society when we have straight men attributing their manhood to how man women they can “tap” and straight women using sex as emotional currency? How are two men that that dance together on a first date more of a threat than the two straight girls that are kissing at the bar in order to turn on their male counterparts? It is absurd to think that gay relationships and marriage will be the downfall of American Society.

Society is falling apart on its own — without the help of any one specific group. What truly tears at the fabric of society is hate and ignorance. What tears at the fabric of society is the lack of independent thought and subjugation of one’s own beliefs to satisfy another’s agenda. What tears at the fabric of society are a lack of personal responsibility for one’s actions, and a lack of acceptance of those that are different. What tears at the fabric of society is apathy. What tears at the fabric of society is a lack of faith: in one’s God, or oneself, or in one’s own belief system. What tears at the fabric of society is the systematic unraveling of the threads that tie us together. It is our differences that enrich us as a people. Celebrating those differences and enjoying the richness of that diversity is what will bring us together. We can’t call it humanity without it.


            I was raised in a Christian household and I do believe in God. I also believe in a merciful and understanding God. I believe in a God that does not make mistakes, and since people who are gay are born gay, I guess that means they are not mistakes either.

Ok, that sounded way too logical.

Let’s try this: Doubters quote the Bible (Leviticus Chapters 18 and 20) when asserting that gay relationships are an abomination (Although it only mentions men lying with men, and not women lying with women.)

Let’s consider that, according to the Bible, we are all born sinners. Let’s also consider the fact that the Bible also condones polygamy, and condemns adultery. Women are forced to bear the pain of childbirth and experience monthly reminders of this fact because Eve seduced Adam into eating from the tree of knowledge. Women are also heralded as powerful human beings that can sustain life within our own bodies and who should be honored as mothers.

Envy, greed, wrath, vanity, gluttony, sloth, and pride…. all deadly sins, yet we are all equally guilty of them regardless of our sexual orientation and not as a result of it.

It is easy to call gay relationships sinful because it is easy to condemn something if you view it as strictly a political issue. I don’t look at the issue as political. I look at it as personal. I have wonderful, loving, amazing friends and to me, it would be un-Christian of me to judge them and their relationships based on one bible verse written thousands of years ago.

Each individual is responsible for his or her own mortal and immortal fate. I’m not God. I will not judge them. I will love them and accept them as they have accepted me. I will enjoy their kindness, their intelligence, their humor, and all the other wonderful things about my friends and respect their choice to live and love as they please, just as they respect my right to do the same.


            I’m not trying to be politically correct in my support of gay marriage. I speak only for myself: not my employer, or my family, or anyone else. Having lived a little more than 40 years, I’ve learned a thing or two about love. I have been married, divorced and remarried. Am I better than the gay couples that I know who have been together for 15 to 20 years with the same person? No.

Love transcends many things: age, race, religion, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, etc., but even with this truth, it is still the most elusive emotion when it comes to connecting with another person. It is so hard to find someone to love in these trying times. It is so hard to meet someone that you can be yourself with – Someone with whom you can share your dreams and your secrets and your fears. How dare anyone say that love can’t transcend gender as well! How dare anyone say that two people that share a bond of love can’t be together because they are the same sex! I believe that two mature, unrelated, consenting adults should be able to share their lives together and get married if they so choose. I believe they should enjoy the benefits and protections that marriage can provide. I believe that love, real love, is stronger than anything – especially politics.