Yes to Equal Marriage - a personal response to the Irish referendum

Yesterday evening I went out canvassing for a Yes vote with my friend Stephen Cooper-Fair in Killala. He had been out canvassing all last week and was feeling a little delicate from facing all those No voters. I agreed but really, I hadn't a clue what he was talking about. It's a referendum. People are entitled to their opinion right?

By the time we had done the main street my canvassing fervour was up. "We'll just call in here", I said standing outside the house of my very favourite lovely-little-old-church-lady. "She's probably a no", I said," but we'll have a nice chat anyway."

Stephen looked a bit reticent but, naively, I wanted to try and ‘bridge the gap’. I really like this lady and wanted to help her make sense of all this gay-marriage business. I wanted to introduce her to my friend and explain that when Stephen and his partner Norman Cooper-Fair had their civil partnership ceremony a few years ago, while it was a warm and lovely celebration, it was not the same as a wedding. Weddings are big showy, public celebrations – the very nature of a civil ceremony is muted, clinical, apologetic. Second best. This couple's quiet, loyal, long-term love deserved car-horn honking and hats; the kind of wedding I aspire to for my sons – whether they choose to marry a man or a woman.

I wanted to tell her about my friends Garry King and Gunnar Senum and how they have been together for nearly fifty years. They are more settled, sage, solid – and still sickeningly in-love than any other couple I know. In another life they would be not only parents, but grandparents and the fact that they are not is a huge loss to the world. Garry and Gunnar got married, two years ago, on the beach outside their house on Fire Island, New York by a dear priest friend who knows a good catholic when he sees one.

I wanted to tell her about my dear friend Paul Pga Kane who is Godfather to our eldest son Leo. How is not only an attentive and caring godfather but a proud gay man. His joining with our family in that spiritual role is not only testament to our love and respect of him as an individual, but a reminder to our sons that we are a family that always stands firm against discrimination, even if it comes from within our society or our church, because it is not just wrong politically, but personally too.

I wanted to tell her that my brother, Tom, who died a few years ago, and about whom she, and all of my church community were so kind and sympathetic, was also gay. It was never an issue for his family but Tom struggled to come to terms with his 'otherness' in a way that I hope our next generation of gay brothers and sons will not have to experience. I wanted to tell her about how the gay television personality Anna Nolan chose to come to a fundraiser for beautiful Alana, daughter of local family Una Morris and Dennis Denis Quinn over the IFTA’s in Dublin for which she had been nominated for an award. She did this, not just because she is a good, honourable person, but because of her compassionate love of children and her belief in family. Yet – today – Anna does not have the same full family right as the rest of us.

I wanted to tell her of my own mother’s hurt and disbelief when her friends and peers, people who she believes to be nice, intelligent people, express anti-gay views. How one afternoon, a year ago, we sat in her kitchen and watched the campaigner Panti-Bliss give that inspiring speech on my i-Phone. Mam cried. remembering not just her own son, but all the wonderful gay sons and daughters she has known in her seventy-something years. My mother, and her parents, despite being part of the conservative Irish Catholic generations, were always inclusive and embraced difference in people. It was a point of Christian pride for them.

No half measures or do-gooder lip service. Everyone is invited to the party. My mother often feels isolated and silenced by her conservative Catholic peers and that hurts her because she loves the Ireland of her childhood but finds it hard to reconcile the 'old fashioned' fear-of-change ideals that sometimes define it. I wanted to tell this nice lady that my own personal experience of gay friends is that they are the same as the rest of us in every single way and that I believe, I know, they deserve the same rights.

Because we live in a democratic society where everyone is equal. I wanted to explain that, in my experience, being prejudiced against someone because of their sexual orientation is the same as being prejudiced on the grounds of their height. I wanted to see if, as a person she knows to be sane, and reasonable and who probably knows a lot more gay people than she does, I might answer some of the questions she could ask of me. Like how would you like it if one of your sons was gay? I would not mind one bit – however I would not like him to be treated as a second class citizen because of it.

Would you leave your child overnight with two gay men? Absolutely. If I was younger and one of them asked I might even consider co-parenting one with them! Do you think homosexuality is against nature? Yes – but then almost everything today is against nature including flushing toilets and all modern medicine. After all – if God gives you cancer and wants you to die – who are we to try and fix it?

However, as soon as she saw the leaflet there was no discussion. She immediately and vociferously told us that she was an unequivocal 'no' voter. She used the words "in all conscience" and kept saying "they" (have civil partnerships) and "while I applaud them". As I stood there, blushing with a mixture of embarrassment and shock – I realised two things. The first was that, while I know this lady is a good Christian person, she clearly, genuinely views homosexuals as utterly 'other' than the rest of us. That can only be based on not knowing any (openly) gay people.

The second was simply this. While my sensibilities are always deeply offended by homophobic views, it is quite different to be offended as an individual – which is what was happening to my friend Stephen. In effect he was being openly told that he was a second class citizen – to his face. What puzzles me is that when this lady saw me coming to her door with 'yes' leaflets and a man she did not know who may or may not be gay, that she didn't have the instinct, out of social delicacy, to simply lie. To take the leaflet and nod benignly out of sheer politeness. Like I do when she comes to my door with priest-recruitment leaflets. Wow – I thought. She doesn't hate gay people. She just doesn't think they are 'proper' people.

"I am so sorry", I said to Stephen as we walked away. Sorry didn't begin to cover it. His face was flat with hurt. I am guessing he's been wearing that expression a lot lately. He has spent the last week out canvassing in a county that is awash with No posters. Every no voter he comes across is effectively is telling him that he is not a valid citizen; that he is not a 'proper' human being. It hurts. It would hurt me – but nobody will ever say it to me. They might dismiss my opinion but nobody is going to dismiss me. They don't have that right. They do have the right to do that to Stephen because he does not have the same, full rights to the most basic, the most important, the most sacrosanct thing in all our lives – the right to family. He can have a bit of a family. A 'partner' with legal rights if he dies. But he can’t have a 'proper' family like I can because he is a second-class citizen. And that's just plain wrong.

Stephen kept going while we didn't do any more house calls, he did hand out a few more leaflets to men out mowing their lawns. He doesn't know this but his stoicism made me cry. His determination in the face of an adversity that I did not fully realise the painful extend of until last night.

So if, like me, you are voting yes tomorrow (22 May), please share this post with any 'no' or 'not-sure' voters you may have among your friends. I'm sure I have a few out there. And if you are one of them, thank you for letting me stand on your doorstep and introduce you to my friend Stephen. I hope you will consider voting 'yes' and giving him the equal rights that I believe he, and all Irish citizens deserve.

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c Kate Kerrigan

Kate Kerrigan is the best selling author of novels including 'Ellis Island', 'The Miracle of Grace' and 'TheLost Garden'. She lives in Killala in County Mayo in the republic of Ireland. This personal response to the Irish referendum on Equal Marriage is a condensed version of an article that appeared on Kate's website today 21st May. It is reproduced with kind permission of the author