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21 march 2002

on unconditional love

This week, I decided to find out where I live.

I, Kim Holzer, live in a state that still sometimes enforces an 1805 anti-cohabitation law. Getting married will keep you out of trouble.

I live in a right-to-work state in which you can be fired at any time for being gay, bisexual, or transgender.

I live in a state that can, and does, deny parents (who happen to be gay) custody of their biological children.

I live in a state that does not willingly allow adoption of children by gay people. It's not statute, like it is in Florida. But the likelihood that a protective law will be passed is highly unlikely.

So why do I care, you ask? Come on, I'm heterosexual, I make a good living--if I ever decide to adopt a child as a single person, my chances of being able to are pretty good. I've got it relatively easy. So why worry about a bunch of "immoral" (in NC state law's words) people and their desire to adopt kids?

The question should be, why shouldn't I worry? After all, the children up for adoption now will be the adults running things when I am older. That's why. There's more to it, though, something I rarely discuss with even my closest friends, and something I've never hinted at here. It seemed very personal, until I realized that speaking out is more important than protecting my vulnerability on the matter.

Since I was seven years old, I've never been here nor there on bearing children of my own. This is not to say that I never will, but I've simply never had baby fever, if you will. I don't guage the success of my life by whether I'm married, single, a mother, or not a mother. However, since I was a child, I always assumed that I would someday adopt a child. Even when I was young, I accurately assumed that my life was not going to be one of neat row houses, conventional friends, and two-week vacations. I measure my life in how much I love and am loved. Keeps things simple.

There was a time that, when people would ask me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I said this: "I want to buy an RV and drive around the country. If I have a kid, I'll strap it to my back on a papoose. And that's the way it's going to be."

Yeah, I was a real charmer.

The thing is, I still feel very affectionate toward that idea in the back of my mind. These days, I will admit that I do aspire to a bit more stability in my life. I'm actually shopping for a little old house over the next year or so, one with a porch and lots of sunlight, with neighbors in waving distance. And I'm getting a little weary with contracting for a living. Up to now, it's served me well with all the travelling I've done. But I've seen much of the world that I wanted to, and now I get much more pleasure in working toward making my community a better place. I still aspire to great bohemian adventures and odd travel destinations--I just need to back myself up more these days.

Anyway, I've always been a big advocate of adoption for people like me. The way I figure it, difficult-to-place children need...well...difficult-to-describe parents. I'd say we've got a match there somewhere, don't you?

Which brings me to the gay parents that have made news headlines of late. Nearly every single gay friend I've ever had states that of course they wouldn't choose to be gay. While they're certainly not ashamed or unhappy, life (especially outside the cities of North Carolina) can be really tough. Come on, I live in a place where too many people think racial jokes and "homo" slurs are okay lunch conversation. We haven't come a long way, baby. I hate the word "tolerance". It sounds as though people are just being tolerated. We can do better all the way around.

I don't mean to be simpleminded in this whole matter, but what disqualifies people who are gay from becoming adoptive parents? In a rational world, it would be the same things that disqualify heterosexuals: a criminal record, or proven instability of mind or circumstance. Somewhere in history, someone in North Carolina decided that "if it ain't a crime to be gay, it should be!" or it's a mental illness. Why deny someone who is willing to jump through the hoops of adopting a difficult-to-place child: older, physically disabled, or possessing great behavioral challenges?

I think that some people end up with so much joy and love for life, that they don't know what to do with it. It's not like you can rent a storage bin for the overage. It becomes physically painful for you to lug it around. And here are all these kids, who don't know what too much of anything but hell feels like.

Prohibiting loving, qualified gay parents from adopting children is the same as prohibiting gays from making sure the net is under the trapeze. When someone falls, does it really matter who catches them?

I live in a state that doesn't think of things that way.