Until very recently, I was an ardent partisan of the conservative view on marriage. By the time this column makes it out into the blogosphere, the Marriage Equality folks will almost certainly have marched up Capitol Hill and walked away with all the marbles.
And if not now, then very soon.
You have caught me alone and away from the so-called traditional marriage camp. In truth, I am AWOL. I have abandoned my position and now find myself wandering the battlefield of the culture war.
Look, in that blown out Fox (news) hole, it’s the mangled corpse of Ben Carson’s credibility.
A lot has happened to prompt my flight. I’ve met some gay people, for one. They’re nice, and I can’t help but want them to like me. It’s hard to judge them when their relationships seem to be working out better than mine.
For two, I live in New Orleans. Being anti-gay marriage in New Orleans is like being the only Neo-Nazi in Tel Aviv.
That’s not to say I’m bending to social pressure; rather, living among sincere real-life examples of my supposed enemy has thrown my own guile into sharp relief.
Finally, I’ve come to the realization that as a deeply religious person, my choice to let a 1,400-year-old book dictate how I live my life must seem strange to you, perhaps as strange as gay marriage seems to me.
Maybe we can find common ground in that strangeness?
As a young undergrad and student columnist, I defended the “one man, one woman” position with zeal. In doing so, I fear I wounded many people. I vowed never to do that again, and this is my first attempt at writing on the subject since those heady, self-righteous days.
It would be easy to take a week off and slide quietly back into the news cycle to comment on an issue that doesn’t reveal the blood on my hands — but in my experience, cowardice makes for bad punditry.
It’s poetic irony that the Confederate flag would die in the same year that marriage equality is born.
This is my second contribution to HuffPost, my first was an appeal to my fellow Southerners to rise above and beyond General Lee’s battle flag.
A call to surrender that racist emblem to history.
I guess that puts me in, what? The year 1866?
Above all else, I beg your patience. There are millions like me, we’re not bad people — just products of a different time and place.
I was raised by my grandparents. People born in Mississippi. In 1940.
I swear to God I am trying to be a better person. I hope you’ll understand just how serious of an oath that is coming from the right.
I’d like to go back to the traditional marriage camp and let everyone know we’ve lost, but my former comrades have taken to the hills — to prosecute a guerrilla war, no doubt.
I’m afraid nothing good will come of that.
This is your moment of triumph, and you’ve fought hard to get here. Let those of us on this side figure out how to deal with our strays — or perhaps we could work it out together.
In parting, I would not blame you for refusing my surrender. All actions have an equal and opposite reaction, after all.
In fact, I do believe I see some shadowy figures… down there, in the comments section.
They appear to be erecting a gallows.
I wish we’d never had this goddamned fight, I wish I’d never been so callous.
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Gay Voices – The Huffington Post