The witness stand is a lonely place to lie

Hello Everyone, I took part in my first Pride parade over the weekend. I’d never attended one before, but had the opportunity to march (read: dance, badly) in this year’s edition, and jumped at the chance. But I’ll get to that. First, the title of this post. It’s a quote from one of the lawyers who argued the case for marriage equality, sometimes referred to as gay marriage or same-sex marriage, in the landmark US court case on the subject. The quote refers to what happened when they put one of the opponents of marriage equality on the stand, and it’s always stuck with me. One of the points this lawyer made was that the case wasn’t about granting gay people the right to marry. The right to marry was already established in law as part of human rights more broadly. The case centered on government attempts to restrict that right to heterosexuals. To do so needed to show a reason why, specifically they needed to show that gay marriage causes harm. The reason I love the quote so much is that is reflects the moment that the onus flipped from those who advocated for marriage equality to those who opposed it. For years, generations really, gay people had to advocate for their own humanity. They had to show over and over that they weren’t degenerates, weren’t molesters, weren’t bad for society. It was a long grind, but slowly, progress was made. So much so, that the case for marriage equality ended up in court. There, finally, the burden of proof was flipped and those who had accused gay people of being these awful things had to back up their words. And they had nothing.  You can talk a lot of trash in the public sphere with little consequence, but in court you have to prove that what you say is true. It is, indeed, a lonely place to lie. In the decades leading to this court case, LGBT people had to show who they were, through a million different tests. A trial by fire, if you will, and they passed, again and again, year after year. In a single, brief moment, those who oppose marriage equality had to, in turn, show who they were. To put up or shut up, as we used to say. They failed. The parade was the loudest, brightest traffic jam you’ve ever seen. We were near the back, and it took us over an hour past when the show started until we got moving, so long was the line of floats and marchers ahead of us. Katrina and I were there for our cousin, Phil, who danced, hugged, and high-fived his way through downtown Ottawa. Prior to this, he’s always been shy, but never had the option to blend in or fade to the background. He’s an easy guy to spot, you might say (very tall, very red-headed). But blending in is, to put it mildly, not the point of Pride. In his furry outfit, he stood out in the best possible way. He was easily the most popular person I saw in the entire event, and was often falling behind because so many people wanted a hug, high five or to get a picture with him. (I had family privileges, and got some pics before we headed out, included below.) It is oddly fitting that in that loudest of places, there was the quiet dignity of acceptance. And just as happened with the court case a few short years ago, another lie was put to rest.

Wes

Photos 

As promised.