Guest columnist
The legitimacy of commitment trumps political expediency

By Susan L. Coskey
Special to The Times

Susan L. Coskey

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At a time when both international and domestic crises loom large, it is astonishing to me that the issue of marriage — "gay marriage" — has taken a front-and-center role in this week's election.

Though there is not a single statistic connecting gay marriage to issues of paramount importance to the American people, such as war, poverty, health care, violence, economic growth, Social Security, the environment or education, the hypothetical horrors of gay marriage apparently have become a central concern of our politicians.

And so, in the din of the arguments pro and con, I would like to share a personal story about two people who recently got married.

At the end of May, my partner Gwen and I walked into the Town Hall office in Whistler, B.C., to apply for our marriage license. A short time later, walking down the steps of Town Hall with license in hand, we both looked at each other and burst into tears.

We have been together for 10 years, adopted two wonderful, spirited, identical twin boys, had cats and dogs, purchased and sold homes, written wills, shared finances, changed careers, commingled families ... everything, it seemed, that could be done that established and reflected long-term love and commitment.

Yet, neither of us was prepared for the flood of emotion that would come with one piece of paper that said that a government saw fit to recognize the reality of our union.

Five months ago, with the majestic Whistler and Blackcomb mountains in the background, accompanied by our young sons, surrounded by our families and dearest friends, with the sun breaking out from what had been a weekend of rain, in a service at which a Whistler minister, my sister, who is a rabbi, and a British Columbia marriage commissioner all participated, we asked for the blessings of our families, our faiths and the state.

And when a rainbow filled the sky at the exact moment we looked at each other and said our vows, there was not a single person there who did not feel that we indeed had been and are deeply and profoundly blessed.

Our boys loved the experience — dressing up in their wedding clothes, wearing their special boutonnieres, walking us down the aisle, plugging their ears and squealing at the glasses they were to have broken in a slight variation of the Jewish wedding ceremony tradition. They spent the evening running around and playing with family and friends.

In the months since, one or the other of them has often said, "I like that you got married."

They do not know that there was anything unusual or extraordinary about the seamless blending at that wedding of family and friends, clergy and government, all in celebration of the love and commitment of their parents — of their family, as they saw it.

They do not know that there are some who would object to that gathering of three generations of family — grandparents and grandchildren, parents and children, siblings and cousins, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews — as being unnatural and threatening to the stability of some hypothetical model family.

They do not know that the love they witnessed on that day and experience every day of their lives is questioned and challenged because some believe it does not fall into a proper and ideal mold.

And they do not know the pain that Gwen and I feel when we relentlessly hear and see our lives — the very "normal" day-to-day lives of two parents doing their best to raise their children while juggling jobs, friends, extended family, PTA meetings and community and religious involvement — being degraded, devalued and diminished for political expediency.

Sadly, in today's world, it is likely that some day they will know it all. As their parents, we can protect them from a lot of things, but, not that.

And so at this time of national renewal and introspection, when we are all called to reflect on the world in which we live and all our parts in it, it is my fervent hope that rather than continuing to exploit differences to divide us, together we will all work to create a world where no child, or adult for that matter, will ever have to question the legitimacy of the joy, love, commitment and affirmation that my children witnessed five months ago.

Susan L. Coskey is a principal of the Seabold Group, a Seattle organizational consulting and professional investigation firm. She is former vice president of human resources for RealNetworks and a former principal in the Garvey, Schubert & Barer law firm.