In their commercials, the proponents of the anti-gay proposition say that “Liberal judges are mandating compulsory gay marriage.” That wording has an echo back to an earlier time when we heard that “Liberal judges are mandating compulsory school integration.” Hmmm… the words sound the same, so I wonder if it might actually be the same people…

As for my “race” it clearly states the race or color of my parents on my birth certificate. My parents are JEW colored! I am proud not to be “white”. It is probably my greatest achievment, and my parents did it for me!

As for the gay thing, it must be double trouble if you are not only gay, but have some other “descrepancy”, such as being atheist, communist, a felon, or anything other than a member of the teutonic christian race. I think I suffered rejection from my father when I “came out” as an atheist similar to what a gay person suffers from his family when he comes out. Except that for a gay person it is probably much worse.

I don’t see eye-to-eye with you on everything, but on the anti-gay proposition, I’ll be voting with you. A rule of freedom is that if you want to be free, you must allow the other guy to be free… even if you don’t approve of everything he does.

I’m a lesbian aunt and although my adult nieces love me, they vote against me – and my rights as an American. Their father, my brother, has instilled in them ‘God fearing Republican family values’. I know they love me; they visit often, call, email – we’re very close. But they cannot distinguish the difference between their feelings for me, a lesbian, and their passion to be responsible Republicans.

I don’t know how anyone can consider marriage a ’special right’ for gays, of which, my brother has had four. How can I be denied one marriage, when my equally American brother is on his fourth? How is that special, how is that fair? Is divorce a special right too?

I grew up in California and now live in Colorado. I’m considering moving back ‘home’ where my partner and I can become legally married and live with some dignity and peace. We would have to sacrifice quite a bit to do so: good jobs, a home, great friends… all to be together in peace, in love. Who else in this country must sacrifice so much for marriage? From drive-thru ceremonies in Las Vegas to courthouse weddings – getting married is easier than getting a driver’s license! (If you’re straight, of course)

It makes me think of the time when interracial relationships were taboo and marriage was illegal. When men and women, black and white, would have to relocate to ’safe’ states. What happened to being the United States?

Anyway, I hope my nieces one day realize they are voting against the aunt they claim to love. My brother never will, I’ve accepted this. But my nieces are the future, as are their children – the next generation being raised to vote against equal rights for all American citizens.

Roosevelt Hospital is also called St.Vincent’s. It’s at 10th ave and 59th Street in Manhattan. The late 80s and early 90s were very bad times. I don’t know a single person in New York City who was not touched by the loss of someone to AIDS. I’m sorry to hear of you loss. I truly believe that a contributing factor that lead to the spread of AIDS is the way our society accepts the poor treatment of members of the LGBT community.

Sharon

You too have been willing to share and expose vulnerable parts of yourself. I don’t remember if I told you how touched I was when you shared with the church last year. It was powerful.

Sharon

I wish you the best.

Sharon

What a beautiful article. Thank you for telling your uncle’s story to your readers. And thank you for being such a wonderful straight ally. I am currently planning my wedding (our minister Jim will officiate, of course!), but spending more time working against the initiative in CA this fall than planning the wedding. Thank you for all you do.

Erin

I have no way of knowing if your tears are tears of healing or tears of pain or both. Please know that writing this put me and (I hope others) on a healing path.

I’ve been very angry for too many years. My uncle would not have wanted that for me. I hope your tears give you some relief.

Sharon

Dick and I appreciate when our articles are sent to others by people who’ve read them and think they have value.

Whenever I write something that comes from my heart, I have a hard time sleeping the night before we distribute the article because I’m so unsure of how it will be received.

A few months ago I wrote a piece about my personal experience of forced busing. I was apprehensive about the responses I would get. After the article was out for several hours, I had gotten so many loving, beautiful, responses that I had to close my office door because I could no longer control my tears — tears that were the byproduct of knowing I am not alone.

The piece about my uncle and the time in our lives it cause me to return to, was hard. My uncle left me so many fabulous, humurous, zany, wonderful memories that I have been able to avoid returning to the memories of the last year of his life which was not any of those things.

I needed to remember that year and you, and the other wonderful responders like Rick Galant, sent me words that worked like a medicinal salve to help soothe the pain of a wound in my heart.

By the way, my uncle was only 43 yrs old when he left us.

Thank you. You’ve helped me and others move forward in our healing. I hope my mother is reading this. She was and is an angel who ushered her little brother to the next phase with grace and honor.

Much thanks,

Sharon

This was the first time I have ever written and published anything about my uncle. For most of the last 20 years it’s been difficult for me to talk or write about his last year of life.

Thank you for reading and responding. Your gracious words are so appreciated.

Dick and I started doing newsletters and now this website because we felt the need to become active to counter what the radical right is doing to our country. I never dreamed I’d connect with so many beautiful people along the way.

Thank you again.

Yours, in solidarity with the human race,

Sharon

When my uncle passed, I was grateful for the wonderful memories he left with me. You are right, I was very fortunate to have had an uncle like Leopold.