One day, when I get to say ‘I do’ to a girl that stole my heart and agrees to become a part of my life forever, I’ll have to get married on a foreign shore to prove I adore her.
It’s a sad day, when I have to find a way to beg for the right to marry my own wife from men that might agree – provided the straight, white population believe in a democracy where equality is free, and not at the expense of a few more votes on the right side of the political fence.
It makes me tense, because yesterday a young gay man assured me that we’ve won the fight for equality.
Well, fuck you- I don’t feel equal.
Maybe when you fit the mould that was cast by the bold when rolling the dice for the kyriarchy, you can claim that you are free.
But check yourself, your privilege is showing.
I don’t want to be the one sowing all this discord. It’s not because I’m bored, or trying to hoard the luxuries to myself. It’s because I want all people of colour, all my SGD sisters and brothers, the differently abled, the kink enabled- all minorities to be part of one, vast majority.
Intersectional feminism is my vision. I want there to be a frisson cracking fine lines in the armour of the powerful few. Tell me, if it were you, wouldn’t you want equality too?
I want my daughter to grow up knowing that she can top her class, and that’s okay. It’s better than okay, that one day she’ll get equal pay. I want her to expect the right to say yes or no without having to second guess if she’s ‘frigid’ or a ‘hoe’. I want my daughter to grow up not knowing the word ‘virginity’, because it’s a lie that the world believes. A rigidity in your hymen is not a factor that determines your worth. We weren’t put on this earth to be judged wanting by the junk we have at birth.
And the statistics show that 75 percent of you stand with me- well to stand with me, stand with me. It’s easy to be that young man- you agree to agree but don’t take a stand. And I understand that the talk comes cheap, and if nothing we’re a generation who don’t like it steep, but we’ll never reap the benefits of life lived well if we’re waiting on our couch for the marching bell that says ‘this is the last time, let’s send ‘em to hell’. We need to rise on the tide of our cries, until our protest poetry flies out ahead, and we’re being led by the indestructible momentum of our conviction.
When they lift the restriction on my wedding vows, I will marry her under the boughs of my own backyard. And, sure, the journey will be hard. But isn’t it worth it, for a life unguarded against hate crimes? For the sublime light at the end of the climb towards freedom?
I’m dreaming of the look in her eyes, I’m dreaming of better lives.
Danielle K Day
I am so fucking pumped for how this poem went down. I’m going to poetry slam the hell out of this one. I’ve been writing it in my head for going on 36 hours, and you can so tell.
My friend Yen and I are going to record it as a spoken word poem, because it really is meant to be read out loud. Stay tuned for that!
I hope you all like!