Proposition 8 Broke My Heart and My Trust in My People

From: Silicon Valley DeBug
Story and Photo By G. Melesaine

The day before the elections, my heart became heavy with anger and sadness. Proposition 8, which banned same sex marriage on this years ballot is probably, (to me) the most intense initiative that was on the ballot.
I had become deeply emotional after seeing that the majority of the people I saw rallying for Proposition 8 were Polynesians, and not surprisingly they were Mormon. I am Polynesian, my father is Mormon and he tried to raise my sisters and brothers Mormon as well. I disassociated myself from the religion at a young age and could not believe in a religion that taught homophobia. I had my words with the Yes On 8 protesters at De Anza College, which became a war zone between yes and no on propositoin 8 groups. One of the yes on 8 protesteers, probably not even a student, responded by saying, "I don't know about this, I just came for the fuck of it." I was the only Polynesian on the opposing side. When I arrived it seemed as if they thought I was going to join their side and moods change when it became apparent who I was fighting for. I asked them if they knew who made their signs that they held. The Mormon church whom consists of some of the richest white people were donating so much money all the way from Utah towards the Yes On 8 campaign. I had become emotionally overwhelmed to see that none of those rich white people were out here doing the dirty work, but rather were having my people do their work.

It's like seeing your family on crack, brainwashed by that white stuff only to answer with "God is on my side." Murmuring the word "faggot" in between laughs and throwing flyers in our crowd, I felt like I was wasting my breath on people who didn't care. People who didn't understand to care. My Mormon cousin whom I've been staying with for the last two weeks had been part of the yes on 8 campaign. She had made homophobic derogatory remarks and I had bit my tongue to make my 2 week stay a little lighter. It made me sad that my beautiful people had used words that were so ugly to me and I figured it stemmed from this religion.

I am deeply saddened seeing images on the news of Polynesians becoming the majority of the Yes On 8 protestors. This had been pretty much the first time I've seen so many Polynesians organize protests. With all the detrimental things -- drugs, violence, gangs, domestic violence, incarceration, lack of education -- that keeps our community from upward mobility, the issue that brings Polynesians out to protest is a proposition to keep two people of the same-sex who love each other from marrying. At the action, my friend and I tried to interview one of the Samoan elders, he asked me if I was Samoan and after I said yes he stopped talking to us. In the corner of my eye there was a child they had brought along, playing with a Yes On 8 sign. That killed me. This was a child who had no idea what was going on but to hold a sign that they told him to hold. I thought about when I was young in that church, and how as an adult everything I was taught was no longer truth to me. I don't even consider the religion a religion but more of a corporation now. Just because my father has been working for them ever since I was in elementary, and for them to have that much money to back this and never give him a raise to a salary that can actually be worth surviving on, made me realized that they have other things to keep in check.

On the evening of the election, news that Obama had won gave me an intense feeling of joy, but it was a bittersweet moment. I, probably the only one in the room representing the queer community among a diverse group mainly young people who color, knew how it felt at that moment to be considered less than a citizen. Prop 8 had passed.

Personally I don't want to get married, it just seems like undocumented bullshit to me, but on the contrary there should be options for those who want the option to get married. At a time when someone like Britney Spears gets married under intoxication (probably) and get divorced the next day, where's the equality in that?

I don't know what I should do now. Even those close to me have their innermost fears about homosexuality which to me, seems at odds with actual liberation. Maybe I haven't done enough for my community, maybe I've been trying to help people who didn't care about me in the end and wearing a button really didn't mean shit. I remember reading a homophobic comment from a black nationalist who was yes on 8. To me, those who seek liberation and then practices the same oppression means that we are really far from actual revolution or change. I went to sleep reading a chapter from Howard Zinn's "A People's History of The United States" in which he talked about the double oppression that women slaves faced. I wondered how many times my oppression was multiplied for just being who I am.