Lessons From the Kissing Booth

Four years ago we rallied and marched in frustration with the passage of California's Proposition 8, feeling like we had to do something to mark our disappointment with anyone who would take away the rights of others. It felt a little silly to do it, since it wasn't our state, but without the option to cast our vote for equal rights in our own state it was all that we could do.

Last night we finally had that chance, and Washington almost certainly passed Referendum 74--a vote for equal rights, not against the criminalization of them--making history with Maine and Maryland by making these decisions through voters instead of lawmakers. It still feels a little wrong to have to vote for it, that a whole population's rights can even be up for a vote. Still, this effects the lives of many people I love very dearly, and I am looking forward to a lot of well-deserved parties. You know how I love a wedding.

The R74 campaign involved a lot of phone banking, and one account included this exchange:

I was talking to a guy who sounded like he might be in his 60s. He was torn on the issue: He was a religious person who thought homosexuality was a sin, but wasn't so sure his religious beliefs should dictate everyone else's lives. (We talked about how Catholics might oppose divorce but don't struggle to make divorce illegal for everyone else.) He was split right down the middle.

We teeter-tottered in this discussion for awhile and then I said: "Well, how about this? If we have an opportunity to make people happier rather than less happy, shouldn't we take it? Shouldn't we want people to be happier?"

He seemed to like this idea, and said he'd be switching from "undecided" to "possible supporter."

I am really happy to live in a state where the majority of people are in favor of more happiness, of kindness, of tolerance and love and of parties.