Finally tonight as promised, a Special Comment on the passage, last week, of Proposition Eight in California, which rescinded the right of same-sex couples to marry, and tilted the balance on this issue, from coast to coast.
Some parameters, as preface. This isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics, and this isn't really just about Prop-8. And I don't have a personal investment in this: I'm not gay, I had to strain to think of one member of even my very extended family who is, I have no personal stories of close friends or colleagues fighting the prejudice that still pervades their lives.
And yet to me this vote is horrible. Horrible. Because this isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics. This is about the human heart, and if that sounds corny, so be it.
If you voted for this Proposition or support those who did or the sentiment they expressed, I have some questions, because, truly, I do not understand. Why does this matter to you? What is it to you? In a time of impermanence and fly-by-night relationships, these people over here want the same chance at permanence and happiness that is your option. They don't want to deny you yours. They don't want to take anything away from you. They want what you want—a chance to be a little less alone in the world.
Only now you are saying to them—no. You can't have it on these terms. Maybe something similar. If they behave. If they don't cause too much trouble. You'll even give them all the same legal rights—even as you're taking away the legal right, which they already had. A world around them, still anchored in love and marriage, and you are saying, no, you can't marry. What if somebody passed a law that said you couldn't marry?
I keep hearing this term "re-defining" marriage. If this country hadn't re-defined marriage, black people still couldn't marry white people. Sixteen states had laws on the books which made that illegal in 1967. 1967.
The parents of the President-Elect of the United States couldn't have married in nearly one third of the states of the country their son grew up to lead. But it's worse than that. If this country had not "re-defined" marriage, some black people still couldn't marry black people. It is one of the most overlooked and cruelest parts of our sad story of slavery. Marriages were not legally recognized, if the people were slaves. Since slaves were property, they could not legally be husband and wife, or mother and child. Their marriage vows were different: not "Until Death, Do You Part," but "Until Death or Distance, Do You Part." Marriages among slaves were not legally recognized.
You know, just like marriages today in California are not legally recognized, if the people are gay.
そう、ちょうど、カリフォルニアの結婚が今日、もしゲイならば、法的に認められなくなったのと同じです。
And uncountable in our history are the number of men and women, forced by society into marrying the opposite sex, in sham marriages, or marriages of convenience, or just marriages of not knowing, centuries of men and women who have lived their lives in shame and unhappiness, and who have, through a lie to themselves or others, broken countless other lives, of spouses and children, all because we said a man couldn't marry another man, or a woman couldn't marry another woman. The sanctity of marriage.
What is this, to you? Nobody is asking you to embrace their expression of love. But don't you, as human beings, have to embrace... that love? The world is barren enough.
It is stacked against love, and against hope, and against those very few and precious emotions that enable us to go forward. Your marriage only stands a 50-50 chance of lasting, no matter how much you feel and how hard you work.
And here are people overjoyed at the prospect of just that chance, and that work, just for the hope of having that feeling. With so much hate in the world, with so much meaningless division, and people pitted against people for no good reason, this is what your religion tells you to do? With your experience of life and this world and all its sadnesses, this is what your conscience tells you to do?
With your knowledge that life, with endless vigor, seems to tilt the playing field on which we all live, in favor of unhappiness and hate... this is what your heart tells you to do? You want to sanctify marriage? You want to honor your God and the universal love you believe he represents? Then Spread happiness—this tiny, symbolic, semantical grain of happiness—share it with all those who seek it. Quote me anything from your religious leader or book of choice telling you to stand against this. And then tell me how you can believe both that statement and another statement, another one which reads only "do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
You are asked now, by your country, and perhaps by your creator, to stand on one side or another. You are asked now to stand, not on a question of politics, not on a question of religion, not on a question of gay or straight. You are asked now to stand, on a question of love. All you need do is stand, and let the tiny ember of love meet its own fate.
You don't have to help it, you don't have it applaud it, you don't have to fight for it. Just don't put it out. Just don't extinguish it. Because while it may at first look like that love is between two people you don't know and you don't understand and maybe you don't even want to know. It is, in fact, the ember of your love, for your fellow person just because this is the only world we have. And the other guy counts, too.
This is the second time in ten days I find myself concluding by turning to, of all things, the closing plea for mercy by Clarence Darrow in a murder trial.
But what he said, fits what is really at the heart of this:
しかし彼の言ったことは、この問題の核心にじつにふさわしい。
"I was reading last night of the aspiration of the old Persian poet, Omar-Khayyam," he told the judge. It appealed to me as the highest that I can vision. I wish it was in my heart, and I wish it was in the hearts of all: So I be written in the Book of Love; I do not care about that Book above. Erase my name, or write it as you will, So I be written in the Book of Love."
彼は裁判官に向かってこう言っています。「わたしは昨晩、昔のペルシャの詩人オマル・ハイヤームの強い願いについて読んでいました」と。「それはわたしの想像しうる至高の希求としてわたしに訴えかけてきました。それがわたしの心の中にあったなら、そしてそれがすべての人々の心の中にもあったならと願わざるを得ません。彼はこう書いています;故に、我が名は愛の書物(the Book of Love)の中に刻みたまえ。あの天上の記録(Book above)のことは関知せず。我が名が消されようが、好きに書かれようが、ただしこの愛の書物の中にこそは、我が名を記したまえ」
Finally tonight as promised, a Special Comment on the passage, last week, of Proposition Eight in California, which rescinded the right of same-sex couples to marry, and tilted the balance on this issue, from coast to coast.
Some parameters, as preface. This isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics, and this isn't really just about Prop-8. And I don't have a personal investment in this: I'm not gay, I had to strain to think of one member of even my very extended family who is, I have no personal stories of close friends or colleagues fighting the prejudice that still pervades their lives.
And yet to me this vote is horrible. Horrible. Because this isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics. This is about the human heart, and if that sounds corny, so be it.
If you voted for this Proposition or support those who did or the sentiment they expressed, I have some questions, because, truly, I do not understand. Why does this matter to you? What is it to you? In a time of impermanence and fly-by-night relationships, these people over here want the same chance at permanence and happiness that is your option. They don't want to deny you yours. They don't want to take anything away from you. They want what you want—a chance to be a little less alone in the world.
Only now you are saying to them—no. You can't have it on these terms. Maybe something similar. If they behave. If they don't cause too much trouble. You'll even give them all the same legal rights—even as you're taking away the legal right, which they already had. A world around them, still anchored in love and marriage, and you are saying, no, you can't marry. What if somebody passed a law that said you couldn't marry?
I keep hearing this term "re-defining" marriage. If this country hadn't re-defined marriage, black people still couldn't marry white people. Sixteen states had laws on the books which made that illegal in 1967. 1967.
The parents of the President-Elect of the United States couldn't have married in nearly one third of the states of the country their son grew up to lead. But it's worse than that. If this country had not "re-defined" marriage, some black people still couldn't marry black people. It is one of the most overlooked and cruelest parts of our sad story of slavery. Marriages were not legally recognized, if the people were slaves. Since slaves were property, they could not legally be husband and wife, or mother and child. Their marriage vows were different: not "Until Death, Do You Part," but "Until Death or Distance, Do You Part." Marriages among slaves were not legally recognized.
You know, just like marriages today in California are not legally recognized, if the people are gay.
And uncountable in our history are the number of men and women, forced by society into marrying the opposite sex, in sham marriages, or marriages of convenience, or just marriages of not knowing, centuries of men and women who have lived their lives in shame and unhappiness, and who have, through a lie to themselves or others, broken countless other lives, of spouses and children, all because we said a man couldn't marry another man, or a woman couldn't marry another woman. The sanctity of marriage.
How many marriages like that have there been and how on earth do they increase the "sanctity" of marriage rather than render the term, meaningless?
What is this, to you? Nobody is asking you to embrace their expression of love. But don't you, as human beings, have to embrace... that love? The world is barren enough.
It is stacked against love, and against hope, and against those very few and precious emotions that enable us to go forward. Your marriage only stands a 50-50 chance of lasting, no matter how much you feel and how hard you work.
And here are people overjoyed at the prospect of just that chance, and that work, just for the hope of having that feeling. With so much hate in the world, with so much meaningless division, and people pitted against people for no good reason, this is what your religion tells you to do? With your experience of life and this world and all its sadnesses, this is what your conscience tells you to do?
With your knowledge that life, with endless vigor, seems to tilt the playing field on which we all live, in favor of unhappiness and hate... this is what your heart tells you to do? You want to sanctify marriage? You want to honor your God and the universal love you believe he represents? Then Spread happiness—this tiny, symbolic, semantical grain of happiness—share it with all those who seek it. Quote me anything from your religious leader or book of choice telling you to stand against this. And then tell me how you can believe both that statement and another statement, another one which reads only "do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
You are asked now, by your country, and perhaps by your creator, to stand on one side or another. You are asked now to stand, not on a question of politics, not on a question of religion, not on a question of gay or straight. You are asked now to stand, on a question of love. All you need do is stand, and let the tiny ember of love meet its own fate.
You don't have to help it, you don't have it applaud it, you don't have to fight for it. Just don't put it out. Just don't extinguish it. Because while it may at first look like that love is between two people you don't know and you don't understand and maybe you don't even want to know. It is, in fact, the ember of your love, for your fellow person just because this is the only world we have. And the other guy counts, too.
This is the second time in ten days I find myself concluding by turning to, of all things, the closing plea for mercy by Clarence Darrow in a murder trial.
But what he said, fits what is really at the heart of this:
"I was reading last night of the aspiration of the old Persian poet, Omar-Khayyam," he told the judge. It appealed to me as the highest that I can vision. I wish it was in my heart, and I wish it was in the hearts of all: So I be written in the Book of Love; I do not care about that Book above. Erase my name, or write it as you will, So I be written in the Book of Love."
この州民投票(同性婚禁止提案)に反対運動を繰り広げていた「No on Prop 8」からカリフォルニアの友人に届いた手紙を紹介します。

Dear Colin,
親愛なるコリンへ
We had hoped never to have to write this email.
このメールを書くなんてことがなければよいと願っていました。
Sadly, fueled by misinformation, distortions and lies, millions of voters went to the polls yesterday and said YES to bigotry, YES to discrimination, YES to second-class status for same-sex couples.
悲しいことに、偽情報と歪曲と嘘によって、数百万人の投票者が昨日、投票所に行ってこの偏見に「YES」を投じました。差別に「YES」と、同性カップルを第二級市民にすることに「YES」と投じたのです。
And while the election was close, and millions of votes still remain uncounted, it has become apparent that we lost.
開票の結果は接戦でいまだ数百万の投票が数えられていなかったながらも、だんだんと私たちの敗北は明らかになってきました。
There is no question this defeat is hard.
この敗北がつらいものであることに疑いはありません。
Thousands of people have poured their talents, their time, their resources and their hearts into this struggle for freedom and this fight to have their relationships treated equally. Much has been sacrificed in this struggle.
数千もの人々が自由のためのこの苦闘に、自分たちの関係が平等に扱われるためのこの戦いに、その才能と持てる時間と持てる資金とその心とを注ぎ込んでくれました。
While we knew the odds for success were not with us, we believed Californians could be the first in the nation to defeat the injustice of discriminatory measures like Proposition 8.
たとえいま勝算は私たちにないと知ってはいても、私たちは、カリフォルニア州民がこの国で最初にプロポジション8のような差別的な措置の不正を打ち砕くはずだと信じています。
And while victory is not ours this day, we know that because of the work done here, freedom, fairness and equality will be ours someday. Just look at how far we have come in a few decades.
たとえ今日勝利は私たちのものではないにしても、私たちは、ここでなされた私たちの努力のゆえに、自由と公正と平等がいつか私たちのものになるだろうと知っています。この数十年で私たちがどこまで来たか、それを見るだけで。
Up until 1974 same-sex intimacy was a crime in California. There wasn't a single law recognizing the relationships of same-sex couples until 1984 -- passed by the Berkeley School District. San Francisco did not pass domestic-partner protections until 1990; the state of California followed in 2005. And in 2000, Proposition 22 passed with a 23% majority.
1974年まで、同性間で親愛の情を示すことはカリフォルニアでは犯罪でした。同性間カップルの関係を認知した法律は1984年まで、バークリー学校区で可決されるまで、ただの1つもありませんでした。サンフランシスコがドメスティックパートナーの保護規定を可決したのは1990年のことでした。カリフォルニア州がそれに続いたのは2005年のことです。それに2000年には、プロポジション22は23%ポイントの差をつけて可決されていました【訳注:今回のプロップ8と同様に同性婚禁止を謳った州民投票提案。当時は61.5%対38.5%で可決】。
Today, we fought to retain our right to marry and millions of Californians stood with us. Over the course of this campaign everyday Californians and their friends, neighbors and families built a civil rights campaign unequalled in California history.
今日、私たちは私たちの結婚の権利を保持するために戦い、その私たちに数百万のカリフォルニア州民が加勢してくれました。毎日このキャンペーンを続ける中、カリフォルニア州民とその友人たち隣人たちそしてその家族たちは、カリフォルニア史上比類のない公民権運動を形作っていきました。
You raised more money than anyone believed possible for an LGBT civil rights campaign.
あなたたちはLGBTの公民権運動でだれひとり可能だとは思わなかったような多額の資金を集めてくれたました。
You reached out to family and friends in record numbers -- helping hundreds of thousands of Californians understand what the LGBT civil rights struggle is really about.
あなたたちはこれまでにない数の家族や友人たちにリーチアウトしてくれました──そのことで数十万人ものカリフォルニア州民がLGBTの人権というものがほんとうはどういうものか、それを理解する助けにできたのです。
You built the largest grassroots and volunteer network that has ever been built -- a coalition that will continue to fight until all people are equal.
あなたたちはこれまでで最大の草の根ボランティアのネットワークを作り上げてくれました──それは、すべての人間が平等になるまで戦い続ける共同体です。
And you made the case to the people of California and to the rest of the world that discrimination -- in any form -- is unfair and wrong.
そしてあなたたちが、カリフォルニアの人たちに、そして世界中の人たちに、差別はいかなる形でも不正で間違いだと教えてくれたのです。
We are humbled by the courage, dignity and commitment displayed by all who fought this historic battle.
この歴史的な戦いを戦ってくれたすべての人々の勇気と誇りと献身とに身が引き締まる思いです。
Victory was not ours today. But the struggle for equality is not over.
勝利は今日は私たちのものではありませんでした。しかし平等のための戦いは終わっていません。
Because of the struggle fought here in California -- fought so incredibly well by the people in this state who love freedom and justice -- our fight for full civil rights will continue.
ここカリフォルニアで戦われたこの苦労ゆえに、自由と正義を愛するこの州の人々によって信じられないほど果敢に戦われたこの苦闘ゆえに、完全な人権を求める私たちの戦いは続くのです。
Activist and writer Anne Lamott writes, "Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up."
活動家で作家のアン・ラモットが次の一節を書いています。「希望は闇の中で始まる。ただ姿を見せて正しいことをしようとすれば、それだけで夜明けは来る、と思う揺るぎない希望。だから待って、見て、頑張って。諦めてはいけない」
We stand together, knowing... our dawn will come.
私たちはともにいます。私たちの夜明けはやってくると知っています。
Dr. Delores A. Jacobs
CEO
Center Advocacy Project
Lorri L. Jean
CEO
L.A. Gay & Lesbian Center
Kate Kendell
Executive Director
National Center for Lesbian Rights
Geoff Kors
Executive Director
Equality California
**
わたしからも引用を1つ。
これは、あの『Queer as Folk』でデビーが言っていたことです。
Mourn Loss's Because There's Many
...Celebrate Victory Because There's Few.