I always have trouble re-entering this blog space after a crisis like Sandy. It feels strange to come here and talk about my "life as normal" when I have friends in NYC who are still without water or heat (but thankfully have electricity so are able to keep us updated on their situation). Be well friends!
Anyway. I just started Sunday Stories last week and didn't want them to die before I even began. Also, today's story is an important one.
I don't ever talk about politics here. Ever. There are just so many other forums for those important discussions, but I feel a need to write about this one. This Tuesday, we in the US will be voting for our next president and other government officials. Here in Minnesota (also in Washington, Maine and Maryland) we will also be voting on whether to constitutionally limit the freedom to marry. This one gets to me. Why? Why does anyone care? Why does it bother some, how others choose to live their lives? What, exactly, are people afraid of? Why put all this time and energy into this amendment, when if the "no's" have it, it won't matter anyway. Same sex couples will still not legally be able to marry in this state. I just don't get it. If you walk through my neighborhood the number of Vote No signs are overwhelming. It's seems like it would be impossible for this amendment to go through. The sad part is, we are a divided state. It just might pass.
It began with a post on Facebook. I wrote: Found this taped to my vote no sign in my front yard.
Friend Jenn saw it and posted I think a friend of a friend did this... Love it. Well, the story was picked up by our local newspaper and with Jenn's help connecting the dots they were able to find the woman who was tagging the signs. Two days later, this article was published in The Minneapolis StarTribune.
I work with young children and am a sworn avocate to their health, safety and well-being. How anyone feels they have the right to take away that basic and fundemental right to feel safe and loved and nutured (regardless of how their family is defined!) is beyond me. It makes me cry every time I think about it.
Why does it matter? Our children matter. Period.