I’ve noticed a trend in this country … well, among human beings generally … wherein one person deigns to speak on behalf of an entire group of people that they claim to represent.

I should probably explain. I’ve run across a number of TV clips and blog postings from gay people (usually gay men) who proudly proclaim that they don’t support the idea of gay marriage. I suppose that’s fine — we all have different opinions about everything, isn’t that what makes this country great? — but what kills me is that it’s usually followed up with a statement akin to: we don’t need gay marriage – the whole point of the gay rights movement is that we don’t want to act like them, anyway. (I should probably explain that “we” are the gay people and “them” are the straight people. We’ve been exposed to a lot of “us” and “them” lately, so I figured that might need some clarification.)

To which I heartily offer the following response: how the hell do you know what I want? I don’t recall ever telling you what my opinion on the subject of gay marriage is, and I certainly don’t recall being polled for the nationwide gay survey that lets you make generalizations on my behalf. Did my ballot get lost in the mail or something?

I rather thought that the whole point of the gay rights movement was that “we” could do whatever “we” wanted, meaning that it’s perfectly OK for those of “us” who want to get married to do so, and those of “us” who don’t want to don’t have to.

I mean, personally, I would be fine with civil unions. I live in Texas, and marriage is such a push-button issue, as illustrated by the gay-marriage ban that went through a couple of years ago (that also, curiously, outlaws straight common-law marriages, although it hasn’t been challenged in court yet). It was a completely pointless measure, since gay marriage was already illegal in Texas, but the new measure went on the ballot anyway, supported by the Christian right who have managed to convince themselves that they’re the ones whose lifestyles are being threatened (wish I were joking, unfortunately I’m not).

What I really want is the normal stuff: tax breaks (I contribute to the mortgage, but I don’t get to claim it as a tax deduction because my name isn’t on the mortgage itself, leading to wildly off-kilter situations like last year when Ray got a $3,500 refund and I owed $300), hospital visitation rights (the one time either one of us has been in the hospital — an outpatient surgery I had a few years back — they were pretty cool about letting Ray hang around, but legally they don’t have to), and knowing that if something happened to Ray I wouldn’t get locked out of the house. That sort of thing. If the rest of my fellow Texans don’t want me to call it marriage, fine. I’m not going to get hung up on semantics.

But that’s just me. Your opinion may be different, and I’m going to be respectful enough not to presume to speak on your behalf. So, to all my fellow queers and fags and dykes and grrls and all the rest of you, please do me the following favor: the next time some interviewer sticks a microphone or a notepad in your face and asks you what your opinion on gay marriage is, please extend the same courtesy to me. Or do “us” all a favor and keep “your” yap shut.