Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current | View Entire Issue (March 1, 2001)
Opinion ZM/yNebraskan Since 1901 Ecfitor Sarah Baker Opinion Page Ecfitor Jake Glazaski Managing Editor Bradtey Davis Ghost of Guyla Legislative bill founded upon contradictorythinking Anti-discrimination laws against gays in the workplace are already in place on a feder al level. In many states, they’re in place for local government jobs. Now the Nebraska State Legislature has a bill before it that could surpass those laws in terms of scope. It’s LB 19, a law extending anti discrimination protection to gays who work at businesses employing 15 or more. If one is against discrimination as a policy, the more well-rounded that policy is, the more sound it becomes. Extending this pro tection to the gay working sector of Nebraska’s population not only makes sense in terms of fairness, but it strengthens the state’s appeal to any long-time minority groups that may seek protection. The real question isn’t, however, whether it’s more fair or not or even whether discrimi nation in general should be practiced. Rather, LB19 is likely to receive heavy opposition sim ply because it is about gays, and, given Nebraska’s recent vote on the Defense of Marriage Act, that is reason alone for many senators to vote against it dome senators cnoose to Deneve mat gay behavior, as it does not keep with a regulated Biblical style of living, is a choice and not a makeup of one's genetics. Therefore, they file homosexuality under the "character” portion of job qualification, asserting that if one chooses to be gay, it could in fact affect their performance negatively, like drinking, lying or stealing might Balderdash. We believe that sexual orienta tion and work habits have no connection to each other, just as not every Christian who walks down the block adheres to a nose-to the-grindstone ethic. If, to these close-minded senators, being gay is a choice of character, then certainly choosing not to be gay is one and of some defining characteristic to a person. Couldn't you see it? "Well, you've chosen not to be gay ... Means you're a good worker.” What’s more strange is that some support ers cite successful gays as a reason gays don't need economic protection. Consider the fol lowing excerpt from the Daily Nebraskan regarding research from Guyla Mills, a woman who led the charge on DOMA, and who, despite now working and living in Virginia, finds it necessary to pollute Nebraska with these thoughts: "In her own research, Mills said she found out the average income for subscribers to a gay newspaper to be $60,000, well above the national average. "'If that’s true, it means they don’t need economic protection,' she said.” Now, if it were possible one could even dis cern anything from newspaper subscriptions (think the many stock millionaires that opt for the Wall Street Journal provide an apt picture of die nation?) consider die logic of her state ment It punishes gays for being successful. If they’re successful, well then, they must be good workers. But they’re not because of poor character. Make any sense? Mills must think that these nefarious gays who all make $60,000work in the pornography industry. These constructed arguments that go around and around in circles do nothing more than mask a dislike for gays and “their land.” Until such voting factions and early baby boomer attitudes work their way out of Nebraska’s Legislature, it’s not likely much is going to change. That doesn’t mean we can’t support it Edfcorial Board Sarah Baker, Jeff Bloom, BradeyDavfe, Jake Gtazeski, Matthew Hansen, Samuel McKswon, Kimberly Sweet AT m anewSl<*/ °F THIS 7l£Atf’5 A$U*J £l£cV<n]S, AFTER Ali- -ffle SCAnvAL, AU£6-t1)oM, Mi) AuMSunovi, one vert wtoiTAm Lessor ha* &&(&■■ \\oiopi mm Ft«wV fip* uk£ m A-m*i So P0N*T evaj -my. *f ■ ^ NealOtamyrrAM A world hanging in balance The first thing you have to get used to is die taste: You don’t expect it to be quite as salty as it is, but you get used to it. In time, you come to welcome it - even ‘want* it-in that peculiar way only people who have experienced the hunger can «I3K0 understand. GldZ&Ski I looked up to his face; he laid his head back lightly against the pfflowi the look of exhaustion and of con tentment spread across his face like a slow jam. Slowly I stretched myself along his length, gently lying down cm him, letting first our chests, then our stomachs meet, our legs intertwine, my face hover ing ower his just a bread* width. I smiled. He opened his eyes and smiled at me I leaned in and Irisski him-not a deep kiss, but press ing so that our respective stubbles nibbed against each other And the friction-the friction,you have to get used to that, too. The kiss broke. Hemade a motion; I shook my head. “Steep,* I said He looked at me, his eyes took on that sweet-and sour look. He pursed his lips, and I responded by moving over next to him, lying down on the bed 1 pulled the cowers up and over us both; I could fed his warmth instantaneously Steeping with another person is tricky business, but we had gotten used to it by then. Ybu want to be dose all the time, and that's fine. But you cant steep that way If you want to steep together you have to give each other room. Or at least, I need room. i lay on my side, ana soon < thereafter I could feel his hand down my back, slowly. The pads of his fingers began at my shoul der and made their way to the small of my back; and then, beginning there; he traced his fin gernails along my spmp_ The first time he had done that two yeaxs before, I had shiv- I end. But this time, I breathed deeply and enjoyed the four smooth fingernails tracing a musical staff of sorts along my back. He followed this night by playing little notes of kisses along my neck and shoulders. With each loss, I felt his chin and his nose, and as he did this, he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me dose to him. Our bodies fit. We always fit together so perfectly. I had, in the romantic throes at the beginning of our relationship, thought it meant we were destined for each other: Not any more. That destiny had been fulfilled. I said his name softly, as drowsily as I could. He responded only with a heavy breath through the nose along my collarbone. *1 need to get up early tomor- j row* I said. He groaned the slightest bit of malcontent, stopping his endeav ors. He planted a kiss on my shoulder and pulled away. The bed shifted as he nested into his spot (m the bed. TWo years. A long time. I lay with my eyes open. I was- 1 n’t tired, but I needed to sleep. The I light from the streetlights shone j the room blue, and he let his ] breathing drop slowly, more slow ly, toward sleep. I listened to him breathe until I knew he was asleep. I stfll wasn't tired. Ithougbt about that first night we went (Mi a date, of the look of his fire in the dirty TGX Friday’s | light. I remembered him smiling and thinking of how secret it all was, how ft seemed to the rest of Ihe world we were just two pals, two buds, two chums, while our feet touched underneath the j table, and our hearts stretched and readied for each other over the impossible distance of the red-white striped table This secrecy, in the good ffanes, makes things stronger The world disapproves, and we’te glad it does as we grasp one another in a stairwell when no one is looking. “Secret Agents ofLoooove,” we would say, laugh ing, before our mouths were full of each other Thena quick straightening ofthe tie and back to the world of the nonnal, the world of the heterosexual. But in the harsher times... I sighed deeply aslthought about the times when things weren't so positive. There’s a lot of pressure to keep the relationship^“real" to keep it“impassioned." Straight people draft have to worry about that No, they get hitched. \ You get hitched, and you're damned if you do, damned ifyou don’t War have towork through it%u can't just throw your suitcases into the trunk and be gone forever \bu have to at least come back. The law requires iL Granted, after a while, your lives become so entwined... I repositioned a little, lying on my back now; on the bed and sheets we both picked out and bought I don’t even remember how we split it We used to split things. Long-distance calls, dinners out. Then we moved in, and it all started to trim: What was a gift, what was a motion of affection became typical household wares. I looked at him as he slept Be was a heavy sleep er His lip6 parted slightly as he breathed. My sweet, sweet love. How did we stick together through all the bad spots?Would we last through all the future ones? It was a mystery I couldn't strive. With thatbit of mystety, I turned on my side, fac ing hm and watched him breathe. 1 can live with that mystery; I just wish I didn't have la Requiem of a lost love 1 turned the cotton swab a couple more times, but still no yellow wax came from my ears, I remem bered as I sat in McEwsn iiiy gray nannei robe on the white toilet seat that I used to dean his ears for him. "Hminm.ni bet sure as shit she doesn't do that for him.” No way in hell is she going to do that for him. But I did. He used to sit, toot on the toilet seat in my bathroom. Like my dogs do when I pull fat ticks from their soft ears, he would sit patiently as I swirled the swab around and around. Gently, gingerly, always careful not to go in too fan Careful to swab up the globs of yellow that col lected frequently Icould wait two weeks, and these wouldbeatub of thick wax just waiting for me to come in with my fohnsonb swabi He would laugh and say, “You get some sort of side pleasure out of doing this, don't you?” I would also give him facials. He had terrible pock-marked skin from a hellish battle with acne that started in junior higi and foflowed him througi his 20s. green-white domes thati^restoic^tea volcano cm his chin in between the black stubble, threatening to erupt at any moment “Just let me squeeze this one, 1 leaned forward, my curious eyes focused on his zitas he examined it in the minor. “No way in heU Get away” He would swat my hand then pick with his own, and finally he would squeeze, and 1 watched it explode. “Ouch!" No, she would not dean his ears for him. And my tears he used to wipe with his deformed thumb a birth defect He had ing in Kansas City but it was still really crooked. I knew the very apartment buildins he used to live in untithe was seven, and then his family moved to Lincoln. We drove by it once on a romantic getaway I remember we stayed in an old historic hotel deep in the heart of K.G The smdlofthedtywas awful in July but the hotel was beautiful. We gotasuite even, andllet him have me there. In that large bed, our tan bodies warm underneath the white sheets and his green eyes looking up at me in sur prise when I said, “Its okay, you don't have to stop.” “I love you so much, sweetie.” Umova” IsakL And later thatnigit I got mad at him and stmmed out of me restaurant In die Plaza because, damn it, it wasn't that nice. A sports bar for Christls sake. I had wanted to go toafancy Italian restaurant Why was I wearing my brand new dress after all? The tears guided from his throat as he chased me down the street and begged me to stop. I was so ashamed of myself for pulling such a stupid charade in the first place. Then, I wanted to cry when he caressed my dark head that rested on his naked chest that night *1 love you so much. I'm sorry,- he had said in the dark. N Desperation hung from the walls as I pretended not to hear his apology and wenttosleepi The following night he took me for a carriage ride, and wenssed as we walked down the street beaded to Gino^s, where we ate Italian. The brown caramel-based sun came through the sunroof as we drove through Iowa to get back home that summer Sunday evening. His black Saab was sleek, and his hand smoothed my tan legp in warm circular strokes. I looked at him, my hand combing the short brown hairs on the back of his neck. I remember we were singing to George Strait and he said, “This is my moment” lknewitwasmine,tDOi Just like the stormy evening spent doing the crossword by candlelight in my mother’s kitchen. Sne has these tall cathedral cedines, and the windows are about 15 feet talL They wrap elegantly around the kitchen. Navy black sky flooded the room as the dear, wet drops painted the glass, and there was the steady flicker of vanilla hpan ranHW Latec we danced to EUa Fitzgerald. I remember standing on his feet as he whirled me around, our sods slipping and sliding an the white, sparidy tile Then there was the night we were walking to the car after stuffing ourselves with dam and spicy Iamb Vindaloo at an Indian restaurant I mentioned that my feet were tired, and suddenly he was lift ing me into his arms, ; He carried me all the way to the park >t as we laughed and shared red kisses underneath the black and white polka-dot sky So would they have a moment, 1 wondered? Maybe they would, but he lowed me the most I know this to be true. And when the love was gone, I could hardly bring myself to blame him for what had been my fault, too. Htfs been with her for about four months now Ofcourse, Fin over him. He was never right for me anyway, but I would still dean fais eats if he sat down on my toilet