Can't help who you love

Richard & Mildred Loving

Can't Help Who You Love

A cliché remains ever so true: You can’t help who you love. Forbidden love’s been a running theme through the ages. Romeo and Juliet fictionally immortalized the concept. 

The former Mildred Jeter, an African-American, and Richard Loving, a Caucasian, ironically, made the taboo a reality. Thanks to the U.S. Supreme Court’s Loving v. Virginia (1967) ruling, interracial marriages were no longer illegal. 

Richard and Mildred faced 25 years in prison for violating the state’s interracial marriage ban. Instead, the judge ordered them not to return—together—for 25 years. 

As Valentine’s Day approaches, another way of loving continually faces opposition. The GLBT community is plagued with a volatile atmosphere in its quest to publicly acknowledge and honor loving relationships. It’s past time to make love—not war.

The GLBT community and its allies have battled marriage equality foes and won battles.

Same-sex couples can now have legally-recognized unions, marriages and/or spousal rights in Washington, Oregon, California, Colorado, District of Columbia Nevada, Hawaii, Illinois, Iowa, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Vermont and Wisconsin, according to cnn.com. 

Washington is on track to join them. The state’s legislature sent a marriage equality bill to the floor. Gov. Chris Gregoire pledged to put her “John Hancock” on the legislation. 

However, that victory for gays and lesbians isn’t set in stone. Legislative triumphs can’t silence critics. Oh, let’s keep it real—bigots. As Gregoire embraces equality, New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie vows to veto any gay marriage legislation that lands on his desk.

A Tea Party-infused Republican Party replaced marginalized moderates with rabid conservatives who vainly squawk about traditional values. GOP presidential candidate Rick Santorum is among their loudest poster children. 

Santorum wasn’t shy about stressing the GLBT’s community’s second-class status during a Fulton, Mo. campaign stop, the Huffington Post reports.

"Two people who may like each other or may love each other who are same-sex, is that a special relationship? Yes it is, but it is not the same relationship that benefits society like a marriage between a man and a woman," Santorum said.

Well, isn’t that special? Santorum called same-sex relationships special. Thanks for the lip service to the notion of equality, Rick. 

With that said, does that mean multiple “straight” marriages benefit society more than stable straight unions that death ends? Never mind, Rick, Newt’s answer would be way more interesting.

Remember Whitney's Good Contributions

 
  












How will I know if he really loves me?

Hearing that question blaring from the cassette player the first time was unforgettable. Fabulous sound coming from a beautiful Black woman fascinated a then-9-year-old boy. The incomparable—but ultimately tragic Whitney Houston—spoke to this writer.

A strange feeling washed over me, each time that question poured from the radio or Walkman. Its significance hit this writer all at once nearly 20 years later, when I came out at age 27. It was time seize that moment in time.

Houston’s poor choices and struggles with addiction are well-documented. No rehashing is necessary. (Of course, tell that to the media caught on a 24/7 media cycle.) Celebrating Houston’s talent and contributions is a better alternative. 

Music served as a refuge during a childhood marred by abuse. This future writer found comfort in wonderful melodies and vivid voices. Melodies accompanied by Houston’s vivid voice seemed to provide the most comfort. 

At times, feeling loved was a fleeting emotion. Greatest Love Of All gave the biggest hug, when necessary. Hearing, “I believe the children are the future…” helped this writer believe having a future was possible.

Love Will Save The Day sent a great message. (If only the love of family and fickle fans had saved Houston.) That song became an anthem, which rejuvenated this writer through fear and uncertainty. 

That fear and uncertainty led to depression, which begged another question: Where Do Broken Hearts Go? Another bout of fear and uncertainty—after the breakup of a nearly 9-year relationship—had me asking it again.

Houston’s nearly unsurpassed talent allowed her to transform lyrics into memorable messages. Bittersweet memories and those memorable messages are what this writer now carries with me. 

The haunting melody and Houston’s miraculous performance of Dolly Parton-penned “I Will Always Love You” remains an indelible imprint on my consciousness. That moment of silence prior to hitting that high note leaves goose bumps—every time. This listener knows what’s coming, but remains amazed.

That voice didn’t just make commercial productions masterpieces. Houston will forever be known as the best singer to ever belt out The Star Spangled Banner. She paralleled the patriotic feeling created with One Moment In Time. 

Houston, a Black woman, united our country in song. So, the African-American community is proud of her and rightfully so. Poor choices don’t negate Houston’s significant contributions to music, film and the human condition. 

However, they do call for a moment of reflection. Sadly, Houston’s life is cautionary tale about fame, success and what they can cost. Yes, she paid a great price. 

Let’s focus not on her loss, but the legacy left behind. It’s a legacy of music and performances that’s reached so many people in so many ways. Houston gave generations’ license to dance, sing and love.

While her license expired, family, friends and fans remain. Let Houston not die in vain. 

Use her songs and story to remind that talent and success can bring pain and gain. Pay tribute to an (admittedly) imperfect angel.