A Canadian Tale
von Margaret Robinson




Torontorian tagging
of cruising-parks
part II

So what’s wrong with same-sex marriage? One of the problems with discussing marriage is that everyone using it means something different. Is it the legal status? The ceremony? The practice of monogamy? Male ownership of women? A Vegas weekend? Since even the religious right is divided on what a marriage is, I’ll use my own definition. Marriage is the successful long term maintenance, growth and development of a love relationship. If you’re doing that then you’re married, regardless what paperwork you’ve got. That will certainly pull in some people who have chosen not to get married. From my perspective they’re already married, but they’ve chosen not to receive the frosh kit, which I can understand and respect. But if it’s romantic love, and it’s getting bigger and healthier over time, then it counts as marriage to me.

Some objections to marriage are to the social privileges society confers on the married. To give same-sex marriage the same privileges as mixed-sex marriage is to reinforce the inequality between the married and non-married. Single people often bear the financial burden that allows these privileges to exist. These points are all valid. As a person who is childless by choice I am often angered by the inequities I experience. Certainly, the assumption that married people contribute to society to a greater degree than single people is more a tenant of faith than an established fact. But an objection to social inequality is not an objection to marriage. Social status is conferred upon the married. It’s not what marriage is. The issue isn’t whether a government should institute same-sex marriages, but whether a government acknowledges that we already have them. The issue cannot be framed purely in terms of complicity, as if we are outside the sphere of civic participation until we apply for a marriage licence.

I addition, behind the opposition to the privileges of coupling lurks a view that sees the world as made up of individuals, and which over-values self-sufficiency. In short, it is the image of the individualistic male subject, which lives best when autonomous, and which views all connections with others as constraints on his freedom. This individualism is incompatible with my bisexual feminism, nor does it fit my understanding of the human being as a creature which becomes a subject specifically through social connections (ex: language development). But there’s also danger lurking in going too far the other way. While the human is essentially social, I don’t believe that we’re merely one half of a larger unit, waiting to be completed. This latter view has long been the root of heterosexist and anti-feminist arguments, particularly those from the Vatican. I’m not one half of some male-female creature; I’m a mature human seeking relationships of significance.

Some objections to marriage are really to certain kinds of marriages, such as one man with multiple submissive wives. While I can understand the revulsion, my preference for people to have freedom in their decision-making overrides my distaste. I want a country where people are free to make really stupid relationship decisions. Some feminists rightly point out that not all women have the agency required to make an informed decision.. Nevertheless, we need to treat them as if they do. Rights aren’t something individuals have to earn. They’re something society recognizes they already have. If we start stepping in to protect people from their decisions then they’re not really equal citizens; they’re wards of the state. Feminists who feel strongly that such women need extreme protection might do better to rescue such women Harriet Tubman style and take them to consciousness raising camp. Anyone who thinks the government uses such legislation to engage in good parenting can take a look at the way Canada treats its native population.

Marriage, as I define it, is akin to the Olympics. It is a field of achievement in love. Some people think this sounds elitist, since it singles some people out as being better at love than others. This view is only partially mistaken. Yes, this position is elitist. But it is not arbitrarily so. It recognizes that some people choose to devote themselves toward achieving particular ends and others do not. I will identify three characteristics of successful marriage in general, and explain how I see them relating to the queer community, and to the issue of same-sex marriage.

1. Marriage is fun and easy.
The cliche that «marriage is work» is mistaken. To begin with, it’s based on capitalist propaganda. People say that marriage is work to make other people stop seeing it as fun, and judging it as bad, non-productive, and frivolous. The equation of marriage with work is an effect of the protestant work ethic bleeding into sexuality. Marriage is not a factory for making babies. Marriage is long term love, and love isn’t work.

Equating marriage with work has done a lot of harm because people interpret it to mean they should stay in their bad relationships and try harder to make them work. Leave your bad relationships. Seriously. Ignore the messages that tell you every love relationship has to lead to marriage. Many fuck-buddy relationships have been ruined by marriage. There’s no shame in short-term relationships. Some personality types simply don’t get on well with others in the long term. That doesn’t mean people can’t fall in love, have great sex or be friends. But marriage is a long term commitment. In that regard it’s like a tattoo.

Not everyone who would like marriage is ready for marriage. A marriage is a relationship between adults. This isn’t an issue of age as much as development. Ideally, a marriage partner is someone who’s already functional on their own. A needy, vulnerability partner might reassure the insecure, but co-dependence is not love. Being with a mature partner is relaxing, because one of you doesn’t have to supervise to other, lest they do something bizarre and stupid. Queers may have a foot up over their heterosexual counterparts on this. The process of coming out is often a catalyst for personal maturity and development. Queers have to address issues of social messages, gender, power, and sexuality in ways that straights do not. This doesn’t mean all queers are mature, but it does mean we have an opportunity for personal development not available to most straights.

Many relationships remain shallow and difficult because the individuals involved wear a mask for one another, not really interacting as their real selves. This ultimately becomes tiresome and elicits resentment. Being your true self, once you learn to do it, isn’t work. Learning to do it requires being able to distinguish between who you are now, who you would like to be in the future, and who society says you ought to be. Again, queers may have a head start because they have had to break away from heterosexual expectations. But we then face the social expectations of the queer community, which may be harder to resist.

If you’ve chosen a mature and compatible partner, then spending time with them doesn’t require that you change who you are. Being with someone compatible makes you feel more like you. The religious right would have us believe that men and women are uniquely compatible. This is only true when you force men and women to conform to a pre-set stereotype of masculine and feminine. When the religous right looks at same-sex coupling, they just see sameness and label it as narcissism. Anyone who has been in a same-sex relationship knows that people come in a variety of types, and it doesn't fall into step along gender lines.

Relationships between compatible queers have been happening as far back as we’ve had queers. These couples have been the foundations upon which whole movements and communities have been built. One of the reasons this is true is that relationsips are alive and dynamic. This is counter to the image of the activist as the great individual, who just tirelessly pursues their one goal. Activism based on a relational model is flexible, able to adapt to changing circumstances.

2. Marriage is work.
Compatibility is essential, but it can only get you so far. Successful marriage requires an accumulation of skills. Some experts suggest that we learn to interpret the way our partner communicates along gender lines (Men are from Mars, etc.). I think this is crap. Being bisexual has given me a good perspective on gendered communication. What I’ve learned is that men can’t read my mind, and women can’t either. I’ve found it much easier to unlearn the gendered messages about how women are «supposed» to be and communicate in a way that doesn’t have to be translated. I call it «saying what I mean.» It’s a novel approach but I’ve found that it works.

Like «being who you are,» saying what you mean can be a challenge. Most of us grow up with the idea that if people knew the real us, they would hate us. Personally, I’ve found that the secret to being liked for who I am is to risk being hated for who I am. Again, coming out as bisexual was great practice for this.

Although marriage is fun and easy, marriage is also work. But it’s work the way developing a talent is work. It’s work the way doing something you love and doing it well is work. It’s work the way great sex is work. It’s effort, but it’s not something that diminishes you. It bears little or no resemblance to most of the paid labour people do. It’s slightly like making art, playing a sport, or playing a musical instrument. Like any talent, it requires that we make developing it a priority. It means we spend time with each other. It means some things which we value have to take a back seat.

I think the queer community suffers when we forget that these bonds are part of the sexuality that created our community in the first place. Yes, sex is a bonding experience and it should have a role in our community. Because same-sex activity doesn’t make babies, we’ve been in a unique position to explore the functionality of purely sexual bonding. And we have a lot to teach straights about the value of sex apart from all the things that get tied to it in straight culture. But in response to AIDS, and the anti-sex religious right, I think we’ve valued sex as the sole expression of our queerness. Certainly, marriages are sexual; and they ought to be. But if we forget that love bonding also built our queer villages than we’ve already lost part of what made us queer.

3. Marriage is not everything.
Just because my relationship is high on my list of priorities doesn’t mean it’s my only priority. I value my activism, my social circle, my school work and my job. Anyone who makes marriage their only priority is shooting their relationship in the leg. Interests, such as work, school, art, activism, and friendships help us develop as people. Anyone who sacrifices them entirely has made a commitment to stagnation. In my experience, success in one area energizes the other areas as well. The strength of my relationship makes me a better activist. My work, my art and my activism make me a better lover. Prioritizing love doesn’t mean cannibalizing all my other interests.

One of the objections to same-sex marriage seems to be based on the fear that all the queers will pair up and buy homes in the suburbs. In effect, that marriage will mean we lose our community. Those people confuse marriage with assimilation. Marriage is the successful long term maintenance, growth and development of a love relationship. How one chooses to express that is a completely separate issue. As a commitment to love, and to developing the talent and skill to make it grow, marriage is something that can occur between multiple partners, and which overflows into non-romantic activities, such as raising kids, taking care of pets, aging parents, building queer communities or, if one is so inclined, destroying the capitalist machine.

back to part I and discussion