Out of the Game (No longer a football)

I did the unthinkable today. I turned off NPR. Deliberately. Not just any old NPR show, it was Fresh Air, one of the crown jewels of NPR, and usually one of the best shows.. I didn’t have a headache, I wasn’t parked and debating about having a “driveway moment” or getting into my house, and I didn’t want to listen to a CD. I just turned it off and drove in silence for the rest of the way home. (Admittedly driving in silence is actually not as bad as it seems at first. I actually at times enjoy it, but I digress.)

No. I turned it off because I was disgusted about the topic.

What topic would that be may you ask? I’ll let the summary for the Thursday, December 9, 2004 show speak for itself:

Bishop Gene Robinson is the first openly gay man to be ordained an Episcopal bishop. We’ll talk with Robinson, and also hear from Bishop Robert Duncan, the moderator of a group that was formed in opposition to his ordination.

By all accounts it should actually be an episode of Fresh Air that I would consider really enjoyable. To add to this recently I’ve considered reading The Advocate a chore. One of those things I should do not one of those things I want to do.

The reason I’ve become apathetic about almost anything gay-rights related, is well..

I’m tired of being a football.

I’m tired of hearing anti-gay rhetoric.

I’m tired of reading articles where a mother has to fight for the custody of her children.

I’m tired of monumental court cases to gain rights that heterosexuals have enjoyed since the dawn of society.

I’m tired of having a George W. Bush sign from my mother’s yard in my trunk, and wondering how my parents voted (and how they justify supporting discrimination against their son.)
I’m tired of reading and hearing that GLBT rights organizations have been out organized.

I’m tired of debating where exactly to move to be somewhere I’m not discriminated against.

I’m tired of being responsible for educating those around me that I’m “normal” and just like anyone else.

I’m tired of feeling that I am in no way represented by my government.

I’m tired of having no reasonable choice but to support a bigoted murderous government.

I’m tired of being a football.

There comes a time in chess, in war, in any game, in school, in life, when you realize that the odds of winning are horribly stacked against you and you must consider the option of changing course or retreat. Foolishly plodding on without being honest with yourself about the odds of achieving your goals is as dumb as deciding that if you continue to walk into a cinderbrick wall you’ll eventually get through to the room on the other side. (Yes, by the laws of physics eventually you will have worn down the wall, but this will be long after you’re fully bloodied and well past the age that it doesn’t matter anymore.)

So, I’m retreating. Its time for me to begin to plot a course out of this situation. Likely this means that part of my plans will be moving eventually, likely out of the country. Its not one of those things I’m thrilled about, but when the plan you’re on isn’t working, its time for a new plan, one that recognizes the realities of the situation, which I don’t care to recount.

I’m not exactly sure what the plan will be, or how it will take shape. All I know is that it will require much thought.

–Nick