Equal at Last

Nearly thirteen years ago, in July 2001, our police department lost the first female and openly lesbian officer in the line of duty. Lois had served the Tampa Police Department for nineteen years, and her partner was a sixteen-year veteran officer. In the aftermath of the shooting, it was soon painfully apparent how differently the surviving spouse of a lesbian officer would be treated. The lesbian and gay officers gathered downtown at the police memorial the night of the shooting, understanding instinctively the impact of this tragedy. I recall the media officer at the time pulling me aside and asking how they should treat Lois’s partner. I took a deep breath and said, “Like any other widow of a fallen officer.” His question was sincere, and I will say that our department tried to handle things well. We all knew benefits weren’t in place, but to witness the reality of our common vulnerability before the funeral even took place was heartbreaking. The problem was LGBT officers had no recognition, so she was at the mercy of others’ biases. And it mattered.

An effort began with the LGBT police officers and civilian personnel to fix the injustices that we watched unfold. With the assistance of Equality FL, our statewide LGBT advocacy group, we met with city leaders, union, and pension representatives. At every turn, the answer was they’d like to help, but state law prevented more action. Lois’s partner did not receive the survivor’s pension benefits afforded to every other fallen officer’s spouse. We wondered, how could this stand?

Soon after, compromises were negotiated, but none ever gave LGBT officers the peace of mind of full coverage and protections for their families. Thirteen years have passed. Now and then the issue of our relationship status has been raised with our labor and pension reps. Always their answer was the excuse “state law”. Every year, as a sort of act of civil disobedience, I would write the word “spouse” next to Sandy’s name on my evaluation’s personal contact form. Just because it was right. Each year we watched hopefully as other states began giving LGBT couples the right to marry or enter into domestic partnerships, validating their status.

In 2009, Sandy and I decided we wanted permanent, legal recognition of our relationship. We discussed DP, but decided that we wanted a marriage, in hopes eventually it would be recognized. Upon returning to Tampa we took our marriage certificate to the pension office and told them to place it in our files. I never wanted the city to be able to say “it wasn’t what I intended”, as they had Mickey. We continued with our careers.

Then, yesterday, out of the blue, something amazing happened. A good friend called to say that our pension attorney had written a legal opinion, based upon changes in federal laws, stating LGBT officers should be covered fully if they hold valid marriage licenses, from any state. I was stunned. I called our new union president for confirmation and he obtained a copy of the brief. He told me it was true. According to the brief, we would now be covered fully by our pension, to include line of duty deaths. I went to the pension office to ensure our files were updated. The secretary pulled Sandy’s file, and mine, paging through to locate the marriage certificate from 2009. She moved the certificates to the top of our files. Then she looked up at me and said something I’ll never forget: “I’m sorry you had to wait this long to hear this, but congratulations.”

Something inside me lifted. I couldn’t put a finger on it at first, but then last night, I called my wife when I got home from my shift. She still had four hours to go in hers. I said, “Be careful. I love you.”, like always. When I hung up, it hit me. I now had the peace of mind I’d never had in over 20 years of our relationship. Should one of us fall in the line of duty, the other would be taken care of. I realized that for the first time I truly felt like a full-fledged member of the Tampa Police Department. Equal at last.

Peace and thanks for reading~

LM

Equality lessons for the next generation

My good friend, Nadine Smith, Executive Director of Equality Florida, wrote a piece last week on race and same sex marriage discrimination in her own lifetime. It’s a great look at the historical parallels of our current struggle for full equality regarding same sex marriage in this country. Like the issue of interracial marriage, these battles will now be waged state by state, until one day we are finally rid of the issue for good. But that’s going to take time.

Nadine’s article brought to mind my youngest sister’s family. She is married to a fine man, who happens to be bi-racial, so my niece and nephew include African-American in their ethnic heritage. I was thinking today about how to talk to them about the historic Supreme Court decisions of this past week. I want them to have a sense of how truly important the rulings are to me, their aunts, personally, not in just some abstract “oh, that’s cool” kind of way. I will tell them that less than a generation ago, their own parent’s marriage would have been illegal in many states, just as mine is today.

 I won’t let this pass without the teaching lesson, because on a basic level, I want them to understand that matters of equality are always tremendously important. As Nelson Mandela stated, “I am not truly free if I am taking away someone else’s freedom, just as surely as I am not free when my freedom is taken from me. The oppressed and the oppressor alike are robbed of their humanity.” In our current age, where history and civics are increasingly squeezed out in budget cuts, or simply re-written to fit the politics of the time, it has never been more important to understand the gravity of civil rights victories. We are always better as a country when the rights of all are protected equally.

I’ll share my experiences with the younger members in my family. The way it hurts me when people who say they are my friends—or even my own family—remain silent when laws are passed to take away my rights, whether as a woman or a lesbian. I want them to understand that nothing is more important than one’s own personal integrity. Standing up for the truth is right, even if it makes someone else uncomfortable, or you unpopular. One of my other friends, who is a lesbian, is fond of telling me that I shouldn’t “push” people. When it comes to our relationships, people can know, but they don’t necessarily want to know. She wonders why I can’t stay quiet and live my life. I guess that means using vague language and omission in an attempt to avoid making people uncomfortable. I don’t get that. I’m not getting in everyone’s face every day, but I feel it’s important to be authentic and own who I am openly.

Even though 37 states in this country still disrespect my marriage and deny my right to exist as a married person, I will still introduce Sandy as my wife—regardless of who asks me. It’s the truth. When the children in my family ask me if Sandy and I are married, of course I say yes. They need to see that truth and integrity, not waffling. To do anything less shames Sandy, me, our relationship, and sends a message to the outside world that I agree we’re not worthy. I don’t agree.

So, it’s my hope that all of our children will learn about the day the Supreme Court struck down the Defense of Marriage Act as a pivotal moment in American history, as a lesson in equality and human dignity. And maybe my nieces and nephews will  remember the way we were able to talk openly about fairness and love. Most of all, I hope they’ll live in a world where this debate seems foreign and arcane, and love and commitments are celebrated always. But, as Nadine says, part of the conversation will always be, “That’s why Aunt Sandy and I were married in Massachusetts.”

Check out Nadine’s fabulous writing at the Grio or at Equality Florida.

Peace and Happy Pride~ LM