Op-Ed: A New Right, Old Wrongs 

I haven’t been to a wedding since I decided years ago that I didn’t want to be part of a ritual that barred lesbians and gay men, put most participants into debt, romanticized everything white, and involved exploitative labor conditions.

My stand was sometimes unpopular: most people expect a hearty “congratulations” when they tell you they’re getting married. However, as risky as my position might have been, it hasn’t really been an issue. My girlfriend agrees with me, and most of my friends lack the inclination or the right to marry—queers barred from the institution, straight folks who weren’t the settling type, and feminists who rejected marriage outright.

Then, on February 13, two of my best lesbian friends phoned to ask me to witness their wedding at San Francisco City Hall. I missed the call, but couldn’t resist seeing history in the making.

After years of no weddings, on Valentine’s Day I went to City Hall and attended six. It was beautiful: queers lined up around the block in wedding gowns, tuxedos, jeans, stilettos, sneakers, and boots. They were carrying flowers, cakes, children, and a strange little book entitled, “Your Future Together . . . Health Information You Need to Know.” A friend called to me from line. “Jessica, we’re getting married!” I grinned and hugged him, thrilled with the romance.

As I continued along the line, I flipped through “Your Future Together,” which the City gives all newlyweds. After two pages on exercise, diet, and check-ups, the powers-that-be devote four pages to domestic violence. My sense of romance was fading. I walked inside City Hall, where workers were cleaning up after the Mayor’s reception for same-sex newlyweds the night before. Latino men pulled red carpet from the floor and carried ten-foot stacks of chairs on their backs. Yards away, well-heeled newlyweds celebrated matrimony.

I walked upstairs and watched as queers held hands, said their vows, and kissed. Most of the marrieds-to-be were Anglo, and most looked like they not only could afford a nice wedding outfit but also had the weekend off to get hitched. Like most weddings, the excitement was real and infectious, but it also threatened to mask serious racial and economic inequalities. In spite of my ambivalence, I got teary at each ceremony. The rotunda was filled with sunlight, love, and defiance. Witnesses whooped; brides and grooms cried. Everywhere you looked someone was declaring or bearing witness to lesbian or gay love. Where you didn’t look, workers cleaned up.

The next week, I heard over email that people were organizing a formal “thanks” to Gavin Newsom, the mayor who defied law and called for same-sex marriages. One woman emailed to remind readers that Newsom’s housing and economic positions are damaging to many low-income women and people of color. Another woman shot back, “What does that have to do with this?” Quite a bit, I’d say.

I want elected officials to recognize sexual difference. It would be devastating for the Right to win this battle and nullify and bring an end to same sex marriages. But I want to witness my friends’ love—and them to witness mine—at parties that don’t involve $144 license and ceremony fees and men of color cleaning up after us. I don’t want the romance to cloud my knowledge that marriage institutionalizes inequality and sometimes houses abuse. I don’t want justice to rest on a ritual that grants some people legitimacy and leaves plenty of others with little more than a piece of too-sweet wedding cake.

* Jessica Fields is an assistant professor in Sociology and Human Sexuality Studies at San Francisco State University. She explores issues of marriage and social inequality in classes on sexuality and in research on abstinence-until-marriage education.