News and Events => Opinions & Editorials => Topic started by: Shana A on November 06, 2008, 10:10:18 PM Return to Full Version
Title: Feeling A Part of, and Apart from, the Nation: Or, Why Do I Have to Take it Pers
Post by: Shana A on November 06, 2008, 10:10:18 PM
Post by: Shana A on November 06, 2008, 10:10:18 PM
Feeling A Part of, and Apart from, the Nation: Or, Why Do I Have to Take it Personally?
Filed by: Paige Schilt
November 6, 2008 2:30 PM
http://www.bilerico.com/2008/11/feeling_a_part_of_and_apart_from_the_nat.php (http://www.bilerico.com/2008/11/feeling_a_part_of_and_apart_from_the_nat.php)
Damn it, I didn't want to be sad yesterday.
As soon as the election was called for Barack Obama, I raced to the shores of Austin's Lady Bird Johnson Lake to join a jubilant group of friends and strangers. We banged on drums and pots and pans, danced around, and shouted with joy. We hugged and said, "I can't believe it." We stood in a circle and shared our hopes and dreams for the future of our nation. I have never felt so much a part of my country.
So how is it that I woke up this morning feeling like a lead weight was resting on my chest? Why is it that people are still celebrating all around me, but now I feel set apart, as though I'm watching the festivities through bulletproof glass?
It's Prop 8, of course, but I don't want it to be. Although my wife and I were married in California last June, and in spite of the fact that so many people have poured (and are still pouring) their hearts into defeating Prop 8, I really don't want to care about it this much. And I realize I've been trying to shelter my heart from the potential blow for a while now.
Filed by: Paige Schilt
November 6, 2008 2:30 PM
http://www.bilerico.com/2008/11/feeling_a_part_of_and_apart_from_the_nat.php (http://www.bilerico.com/2008/11/feeling_a_part_of_and_apart_from_the_nat.php)
Damn it, I didn't want to be sad yesterday.
As soon as the election was called for Barack Obama, I raced to the shores of Austin's Lady Bird Johnson Lake to join a jubilant group of friends and strangers. We banged on drums and pots and pans, danced around, and shouted with joy. We hugged and said, "I can't believe it." We stood in a circle and shared our hopes and dreams for the future of our nation. I have never felt so much a part of my country.
So how is it that I woke up this morning feeling like a lead weight was resting on my chest? Why is it that people are still celebrating all around me, but now I feel set apart, as though I'm watching the festivities through bulletproof glass?
It's Prop 8, of course, but I don't want it to be. Although my wife and I were married in California last June, and in spite of the fact that so many people have poured (and are still pouring) their hearts into defeating Prop 8, I really don't want to care about it this much. And I realize I've been trying to shelter my heart from the potential blow for a while now.