Andy Martin Gets the Shaft

It's easy to focus on the homophobia of Andy Martin's pathetic campaign for the Illinois Senate seat. He claims to have a "solid rumor" that the front-runner, Mark Kirk, is a homosexual, and is demanding that Kirk "tell Republican voters the truth."

But I see something else at work. Martin clearly has both feet planted firmly in a time when a candidate's homosexuality, real or imagined, was a problem among almost all voters. That's not entirely unrealistic. There are still areas of the country with a large majority of voters who cling to outdated notions about homosexuality. More important for Martin's strategy, there are a lot of GOP primary voters who believe such things.

The first problem for Martin is his apparent inability to see that the ground is shifting underneath him. Homosexuality, which used to be a problem is now overshadowed by the problem of open homophobia. The problem he thinks he's responding to is, itself, now seen by a lot of voters as a problem.

Even the Illinois GOP knows that unadorned public homophobia is now more of a problem than a candidate's homosexuality, which is why they had to distance themselves from him. And that is the second, and more important battle that Martin is having. The GOP is still stuck with its own position that homosexuals should be discriminated against in the law; that it is good for society to discriminate. But they have to downplay the natural effect of their policy choices, even as they continue those policies.

I can't say I have much sympathy for the GOP, whose public positions have created the Martins of the world. It's always difficult to watch people struggle with their conflicts, but the GOP can't credibly claim they aren't responsible for Martin's belief that a homophobic attack would get him somewhere in a GOP primary.

But from a broader perspective, it's a bit agonizing to observe the waste of time and effort. As more and more openly lesbian and gay candidates are elected, sometimes by broad majorities, the GOP is depleting its own credibility as its policies continue to raise hopes among people like Andy Martin. He had every right to expect his party would look favorably on his mean-spirited stunt. At least as important, the GOP is tacitly encouraging such attacks, whether or not a GOP candidate is actually homosexual. Whether or not Kirk is gay, the fact is that he is not alone in being subject to rumors like this. Rumors of homosexuality (or of many other things) are not required to be true to be accepted. As long as the GOP believes that homosexuality is, itself, wrong, its candidates will be paraticularly subject to this kind of smear.

The Year of Going Mainstream

For the gay marriage debate, 2009 was transitional instead of transformative, but the year was historic nonetheless. To mangle Churchill, it was not the end, nor even the beginning of the end, but it was at least the beginning of the middle.

This is an issue on which the fundamentals of public opinion change glacially. Support for same-sex marriage is rising, but only by about a percentage point or so a year. Essentially, a third of the public supports gay marriage, another third or so supports civil unions instead, and the remaining third opposes any kind of legal status for same-sex couples.

Although public-opinion fundamentals didn't change in 2009; the politics of gay marriage did. Here are the ways the year marked a shift to what a storyteller might call the "long middle."

The preemptive strikes on both sides have failed. Early on, conservatives feared that courts would impose same-sex marriage nationally by fiat. They responded with an attempt to ban gay marriage nationally by constitutional amendment. But the federal courts kept their distance, and the amendment was rebuffed.

As the year ends, it is clear that neither side can knock the other off the field. Gay marriage is firmly established in five states (with the District of Columbia's likely to follow suit), but it is banned, often by constitutional amendment, in most of the others. Unless the Supreme Court shocks the country and itself by declaring gay marriage a constitutional right, the issue will take years, perhaps decades, to resolve. All-or-nothing activists will be disappointed, but the country will get the time it needs to make up its mind.

Legislators are taking over from judges. For years, the only way same-sex marriage seemed possible was by court order. But with state venues for pro-gay-marriage lawsuits having just about dried up, the fight has moved from the lower courts to the political branches, much as the civil rights struggle did in the 1960s. Now, as then, legislative victories afford the movement more momentum and popular legitimacy than judicial ones ever could.

Opponents were fond of arguing that the gay-marriage movement was not just wrongheaded but antidemocratic. But in 2009, gay marriage was passed by the legislatures and signed into law in Maine and New Hampshire, and it was enacted by a veto-overriding majority in Vermont. Nothing undemocratic about that.

Same-sex marriage has been mainstreamed. In its first decade or so on the national stage, gay marriage was a fringe idea, the property of the political far left. No longer. Gay marriage may still be losing at the ballot box, but in Maine in 2009, as in California in 2008, the margins have grown tight. With its establishment last spring in Iowa, same-sex marriage has penetrated the heartland, by court order but with little backlash. Many Democrats have come to see support for gay unions as a political plus. Increasingly, it is the opponents who are playing cultural defense, insisting that they are the ones who are being marginalized and stigmatized.

There's a backlash against the backlash. The most important trend of 2009 began Nov. 4, 2008, when California voters passed Proposition 8, revoking gay marriage in their state. Until then, the preponderance of passion lay with opponents. After Prop. 8, however, many heterosexuals embraced gay marriage, taking ownership of an issue that they have come to view as the next great civil rights battle.

For same-sex marriage advocates, the emergence of a dedicated core of straight supporters is a sea change. There is now comparable energy and commitment on both sides.

It was just such passion, indeed, that led two of the country's most distinguished lawyers - Theodore Olson, a Republican, and David Boies, a Democrat - to join hands across party lines in 2009 and file a lawsuit asking the federal courts to overturn California's Proposition 8. The case is a long shot legally, but the fact that it has attracted such solidly mainstream legal talent is one more sign that the same-sex marriage issue has come of age.

A Marriage

This seems to me a good story to sum up the year: complicated emotions, needless harm, yet in the end hope for all concerned.

I don't know anything about rugby, or Gareth Thomas, but his soon-to-be ex-wife's understanding and uplifting statement about their relationship and its end because of his homosexuality distills my own feelings throughout 2009.

It all begins and ends with the closet. But for this anachronistic social convention that is as useful today as a hitching post, Thomas would not have needed to try and convince first himself, and then someone of the opposite sex that he was straight. It is not enough, in this scheme, that we deceive ourselves; heterosexuals, too, have to be equally and everlastingly drawn into the fraud, some of them at the most intimate level.

Lies so close to the core of our human nature cannot hold for long. In earlier times, spouses like Jemma Thomas also knew the truth. Perhaps they expected less of marriage, or were equally caught up in maintaining the charade. The lies we tell ourselves are the ones we have the greatest stake in.

But each of these experiences helps us better see marriage, and better value it. That is what I hope the movement for gay marriage is adding to society as a whole: a reaffirmation of marriage's worth, of love at its best and commitment at its most forthright.

Yes, this is about the law's failure to recognize our relationships, and we have a very direct interest in that. It certainly involves our self-interest.

But who can speak more authoritatively about the value of something than those who do not have it? Of course we want marital equality because the constitution promises us the equal protection of the laws. But marriage is unlike any other constitutional right, because it involves two people, and in the real world one of them is likely to be heterosexual. Whatever heterosexuals think they are encouraging by either denying homosexuality exists, or insisting that homosexuals hide that fact, they are, in fact, doing something they surely do not intend: assuring that some of their own will be deceived, not in some general sense, but every day of their lives, until the predictable revelation. They are, in fact, using the force of law to guarantee that fate for some of their children.

The whole enterprise of gay rights has been to deconstruct this fabric of insincerity. No one is well served, gay or straight, by making us bear false witness against ourselves. In coming out, Gareth Thomas was doing no more than admitting what could no longer be denied; his regret was not for personal wrongdoing, but for the wrongdoing he felt the world demanded of him.

Jemma has the grace and the pragmatism to recognize that while coming out is hard for both of them, it's better than the closet. Like many other prominent wives during the last decade, she has had to endure the same indignity lesbians and gay men do when the truth can no longer be denied. It is these spouses who are our natural allies; who sees more clearly that heterosexuals have a very direct interest in having us be honest with ourselves and with them, and to form relationships based on that honesty?

Despite her own ordeal, she is ready to continue her own needlessly interrupted life, and expresses her continuing love and good wishes to Gareth.

That is a fine note on which to end 2009. Love and good wishes to all of our readers here at IGF as well.

(H/T to Towleroad)

Comfort and Joy!

Allow me to share a favorite holiday story.

It was late November 1989, a year after I first came out. I had been dating a guy named Michael for over a month, which made him (in my mind, at least) my first "real" boyfriend. I was twenty and he was turning twenty-two, and we decided to drive into the city to celebrate his birthday.

"The city" was Manhattan. I was living with my parents on Long Island while going to college; Michael lived nearby. Together with his cousin and his cousin's boyfriend, we piled into my 1985 Camry and made the trek west along the Long Island Expressway, crossing the Williamsburg Bridge into the Big Apple.

Dinner, then drinks, then dancing-or more accurately, sitting in the corner flirting while other people danced. It was the kind of young love (lust?) that makes one largely oblivious to one's surroundings.

So perhaps we shouldn't have been surprised, upon exiting the club, to discover that it had been snowing for several hours-hard. No one had predicted a blizzard that night, and it wasn't as if we could check the weather on our iPhones. (Remember, it was 1989.)

We rushed back to the car and headed slowly home. About a third of the way across the Williamsburg Bridge, traffic stopped.

We waited a minute, then five, then ten-and still no movement. The snow around us was blinding. Meanwhile, the cousin and his boyfriend were soundly asleep in the back seat.

So Michael and I did what any two young lovebirds would do in such a situation: we started making out in the car.

We kissed; we caressed; we cuddled. It felt like we were there for an hour, though again, we were largely oblivious to time and space. It was joyous.

Eventually the traffic flow resumed and we made it home okay.

Michael dumped me a few weeks later (Merry Christmas, indeed) and what remained of our relationship was more disastrous than that night's weather. But two decades and numerous boyfriends later, I still count that bridge experience as one of the magical moments of my life.

It wasn't just because it was new and exciting, or because of the Frank Capra setting (Snow on a bridge? Seriously?).

It was because, at a time in my life when I still struggled to make sense of being "different," the experience sent a powerful, visceral message: Gay is good.

The message didn't arrive by means of a philosophical argument or someone else's testimony. It came through direct experience. Those once-scary feelings were suddenly a font of great beauty, and intimacy, and comfort. I had previously figured it out in my head. Finally, I knew it in my heart.

In this column I have often extolled the virtues of long-term relationships. I believe in those virtues-and am ever grateful for my eight-year partnership with Mark, the love of my life.

But I don't believe that homosexuality has moral value ONLY in the context of long-term relationships-any more than heterosexuality does. That quick flirtatious glance across a crowded room; that awkward kiss with the cute stranger at the party-such moments make life joyful, and there is great moral value in joy.

And so, this holiday, I wish my readers joy.

It has been an incredible, fast-paced year on the gay-rights front. We gained marriage equality in several states only to lose it again in Maine; we had ballot victories in Washington State and Kalamazoo, MI; we elected a lesbian mayor in Houston and a gay City-Council President in Detroit.

There are reasons to be hopeful, and there is much work left to be done. We will keep fighting the good fight.

Yet let us also step back and enjoy the simple yet profound joy that is part and parcel of why we're fighting. Kiss someone under the mistletoe, and remember that life is good.

Wishing you all the best in 2010.

On Vulgarity

One of the most oppressive burdens gays have to carry in the fight for equality is the permission some heterosexuals give themselves to talk explicitly in public about specific sexual practices some homosexuals may prefer. Any particular sexual act, described in lurid enough detail to a nonparticipant, can be made to sound repellant, particularly to someone who does not share the participants' taste. The Marquis de Sade was not even trying to disgust people in describing his catholic sexual escapades - most all of them heterosexual -- yet remains to this day the brand name for sexual disgust.

Which is why heterosexuals nearly always leave one another's sexual proclivities at the bedroom door. With the exception of frat-boy braggadocio (usually among single men, and usually in private) it is rare to hear public discussion of specific heterosexual acts, from the mundane to the exotic.

But anti-gay heterosexuals (and even some who are neutral) exercise something close to voyeuristic exuberance in peppering discussion of gay civil rights with vulgar and extreme descriptions of sexual acts. In 1991, California's state senator David Knowles set the standard, in an obscene tirade on the Senate floor during debate on a bill that would have done no more than prohibit employment discrimination based on sexual orientation. Knowles insisted on describing "the specifics of the lifestyle" in shocking terms that left members speechless, and fearful about whether the publicly broadcast debate would violate obscenity laws. After an uproar in the chamber, Knowles's fellow conservative Republicans had to shout him down.

This is still a preferred tactic in opposing gay equality, both at home and abroad. In our own country, Liberty Counsel's Matt Barber has been quoted (by his anti-gay supporters) reducing homosexual sexual orientation to "one man violently cramming his penis into another man's lower intestine and calling it 'love' " In Uganda, a full-page newspaper ad, headlined "Top Homos In Uganda Named" provides a Sadistic catalogue of the sexual preferences of various homosexuals there.

Of all the inequalities lesbians and gay men have to endure, this one is among the most degrading. No heterosexual would stand for being diminished to the sum of his or her sexual activities, and homosexuals should not be held to a different standard. Without sex, we would all be less than human, but not even a beast is composed only of its carnality.

This obsession among some heterosexuals is more than disrespectful; it is really the only distraction they can come up with to keep us off the subject, which is equal rights under the law. We are having a civil discussion, here, and I don't think it's out of line for us to expect heterosexuals to show us the same courtesy about private matters they enforce and expect among themselves.

Picking the Wrong Fight

The debate over whether AOUSC or OPM should adminster the FEHBP for judicial employees is actually a deep and important one, whether or not we have a DPBOA.

And did I mention this is related to DOMA?

It should be obvious from the profusion of acronyms that I'm talking about federal law. Last January, Ninth Circuit Chief Judge Alex Kozinski ruled, in his capacity as an administrator of the federal courts, that the Administrative Office of the United States Courts would violate its own equal employment rules if it denied Karen Golinski, a court employee, health benefits for her lawful same-sex spouse, and directed the AO to provide the benefits. That decision was never appealed to any court or other reviewing body. After the AO processed Golinksi's paperwork under the Federal Employees Health Benefits Program, the Obama administration's Office of Personnel Management stepped in to put a stop to this blatant disregard of DOMA's unambiguous demand that the federal government must discriminate against same-sex couples.

The statement from Elaine Kaplan, OPM's General Counsel is reasoned and explicitly recognizes that DOMA is both unfair in general, and is even "painful" to court employees like Golinski. That is why (the statement notes) the President supports DOMA's legislative repeal, and in the interim, the Domestic Partner Benefits and Obligations Act. Nevertheless, DOMA is the law.

The administration's stated reluctance to enforce a law it opposes makes it a little harder to view this as a political fight over gay rights; this is a battle over whether the courts are truly independent of the administration when it comes to their own employees, or whether the employees of our constitutionally separate court system are subject to the employment rules applicable to the Executive branch. That is actually a profound argument about the structure of our government, and one whose outcome isn't entirely clear.

But what is clear is that the administration did not need to pick this fight. An uncountable number of administrative issues like this are ignored or neglected or simply never noticed every day. Given government's enormous size and scope in the modern world, administrators have to prioritize their time and efforts.

Consequently, it is no compliment to this administration (and I would single out the Department of Justice, whose judgment the administration is following) that this is the ground they chose to fight on. No one views this as a battle over executive power, and after the Bush administration, it's pretty pathetic that this is the best characterization the administration could hope for. Obama's folks are politically conflicted over how to handle DOMA and gay rights in general, and that weakness is highlighted by the fact that the head of OPM, John Berry, is the highest-ranking openly gay official in the administration.

He is now being held in an undisclosed closet.

UPDATE: It's worse than I'd thought. I assumed Berry was hiding behind the skirts of a heterosexual Elaine Kaplan, but it seems she's openly gay as well. I suppose it's progress that we're in the position where the governmental insults and slights come from our own people, but, as Seth Meyers says so eloquently, "Really?"

Rick Warren and Martin Ssempa: The End of the Affair?

You don't have to go far to find examples of our opponents subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) invoking pedophilia and child molestation when they're asked about homosexuality. But you'd be hard pressed to find a more explicit, concise and complete conflation of the two distinct subjects than in this letter from Uganda's Martin Ssempa to Rick Warren about Uganda's Anti-Homosexuality Bill. There are precious few paragraphs that do not explicitly misdescribe the bill's goal in terms of protecting children from rape, and those few fill the gap by repeated use of the word "evil" to describe gays.

The bill's own title does not deter Ssempa from his belief that it is only about child molestation, so I won't bother to suggest that a bill drafted to solve that real problem in no uncertain terms would be unobjectionable, and would meet with almost universal support.

But amidst the comically gymnastic rhetoric, Ssempa stumbles upon something about Rick Warren's own position that is no less true for having been made by a fool. In 2008, Warren supported a Ugandan boycott of the Anglican Lambeth Conference because of the ordination of Gene Robinson as bishop. Warren says Ssempa misquotes him in saying at the time that homosexuality is not a human right; on this, all we know for sure is that both Ssempa and Warren can be disingenuous and/or flexible in stating their positions on homosexuality.

Still, the bigger point is this: Despite some current statements, Warren's personal struggle with the issue has found him saying things that give aid and comfort to the Ssempas of the world and their fellow-traveling bigots. (And yes, I am comfortable concluding that Martin Ssempa falls well within even my own narrow reading of the term "bigot"). Warren cannot be surprised that things he has said and done in the past, including his support for the Lambeth boycott and Proposition 8, could lead people to believe he has the same promiscuously anti-gay position that other prominent church leaders seem so proud to declare.

I am glad Warren has now taken a firm stand against the criminalization of adult, voluntary same-sex relations. He will find, if he takes the time to think about it, that it needs no great leap of logic to see that a love that should not be criminalized might also be worth recognizing - at least if you think committed love is a socially good thing.

But the bigger issue for Warren, I think, is to look hard at the tactics and intent of the people who cite him for his anti-gay support. Warren has distanced himself from Ssempa, but why does Ssempa believe Warren should be at his side? Can he see, in Martin Ssempa, a little bit of what it is we have to fight every day of our lives? I can only hope Warren will understand us a little better now that he, too, is the object of one of our ruthless, amoral enemies.

(H/T, as usual, to Box Turtle Bulletin)

A Conversation in a Car

It's not much more than a conversation in a car, but if you think about it, it says a whole lot.

Dennis Prager and Rabbi Shmuley Boteach are driving in Botswana over Thanksgiving, and while the video recorder is on, the subject of same-sex marriage comes up. They have a spirited discussion.

For those who are younger, some perspective: Fifty years ago, such a conversation would have been unthinkable. Not just hard to have, but inconceivable - and not only among heterosexual men, but even among most people who were homosexual themselves. The most visionary of our early supporters could see marriage as a possibility, but in a world where homosexuality was a crime, a sickness and a sin, there were far more important things that needed to be accomplished before marriage moved up the list.

It's hard to emphasize that enough. Fifty years ago, our sheer existence was not even acknowledgeable. Particularly because of the criminal laws, we ran enormous risks even discussing our lives with friendly heterosexuals, much less trying to change the laws that enforced our silence. And good luck, in those days, trying to find friendly heterosexuals.

Now listen to Rabbi Boteach. While we could all probably think of supplemental arguments to back him up (Prager, of course, is not supportive), he is an articulate and feisty advocate, within the strictures of his religious belief.

More important, there does not seem to be anyone in the car who is gay to bring the subject up. While it is our rights that are at stake, and while we are an infinitesimally small minority, our arguments are sound enough, and clear enough that they have penetrated into the nation's conscience. We are not the only ones who understand how fundamentally unfair current law is - or feel we have an interest in changing it.

It is conversations like this that take place out of the public eye, and out of our hearing that are the most important now. As I said earlier, we cannot ever comprise a majority; our equality entirely depends on heterosexuals now. It took us a half century to pave the way for them to have these conversations, but now they are happening everywhere. Not all of them will be well-articulated or even sympathetic. But in light of the silence of generations past, every one of them will be helpful.

(H/T to Good As You)

Marriage Isn’t for Everyone

Given the prominence of the ongoing campaign for same-sex marriage, I feel obligated to remind people that you do not have to find a partner and, as they say, "settle down" in order to have a full and satisfying life. You can have a full and satisfying life as a single male-that is, as a bachelor.

Not so long ago, men worked 48 to 60 hours a week and needed a partner to do the laundry, cook meals, and in general run the household. But toward the end of the 19th century, institutions developed that allowed single men to live easier lives. Rooming houses and YMCAs offered housing, boarding houses, cafeterias and automats offered inexpensive food. This whole phenomenon is recaptured in a fascinating book, The Age of the Bachelor, by Howard P. Chudacoff. At the same time, many men moved to cities to find companionship, safety and independence; many of these men were doubtless gay.

Nowadays, modern analogues of those institutions continue to exist. Many apartment buildings provide laundry facilities, nearby restaurants offer inexpensive meals, grocery stores sell a wide variety of "heat and serve" frozen foods and their deli counters offer a variety of already prepared foods. And there are cleaning services to freshen a dusty or dirty house or apartment. It no longer takes two people to run a household.

Just as "men's clubs" used to provide a place for companionship a hundred years ago, we might say that taverns and bars serve the same function today-most obviously in the case of gay bars. And there are numerous clubs, organizations, and interest groups of various sorts that can provide an outlet for social expression.

None of this is to ignore the satisfactions of having a partner to share experiences with, of having a warm body next to you in bed, and the reassuring feeling of loving and being loved. It is just that those arrangements are not for everyone, do not happen without effort and do take a certain amount of luck to work out well over the long term. And let us not forget that some men are simply not cut out for long-term relationships; they neither need nor want them. As a bachelor, you can come and go as you want, do what you want, and not have to check with anyone else if it is convenient.

Bachelors, instead of concentrating all their emotional energy on a single relationship, usually develop a network of friends they can rely on for affection and emotional support. The friends offer various types of friendship, some based on mutual interest, others based on simple amiability, and yet others on physical appeal. The comparison might be of one single ray of bright, white light versus that light refracted through a prism, emitting a variety of different colors.

Some people seem to feel a need for a partner in order to complete themselves. Others don't seem to feel that need but are happy to have close friends as "add-ons." Whether friends or partners, think of another person as another way to experience the world, an add-on to the self, not a completion of oneself.

At least some of this should be good news to young gays who feel a pressure to find a partner and are failing to do so. It should also be reassuring to older gays who are just coming out or whose partner recently died and who are trying to develop a new life. Equally, I would remind younger gays that no one needs to stick with a relationship that is unsatisfactory, unrewarding, and sometimes even abusive.

All these are reasons not to hasten into marriage or other legally binding relationships that can be difficult and painful to undo. Dating was a good idea heterosexuals had. Get to know the other person well, not just feel attracted to them.

Our Families, Our Rights

We create our own families. That's what we say in the LGBT community.

What we mean is, historically, our own families have disowned us. So instead, we create new ones - and it is with these new families of friends that we celebrate holidays and share our griefs and joys and hopes.

We rely on these created families for daily support and emotional sustenance. We love them and they love us, exactly as they are.

It is a beautiful tradition, created families, and one that makes the gay community bond even more tightly together.

But now it is time to go back home.

I don't mean that we should abandon our created family. How could we? They are where we rest our hearts. But we each also have families we were born into and the holiday season is a perfect time to reach backward and help pull us all into the future.

Families are changing as the world is changing. Even conservative families are becoming more open to gays and lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders. There is less of a sense of shame and more of a sense of Pride.

But not all of us realize this, because we have built a wall between ourselves and our families of origin out of deep hurt and crucial self-preservation. Growing up, we felt different, unwanted, unloved. We were rejected once (or more than once) as younger gay and trans people. We don't want to be rejected again.

So we send presents, but we don't visit. Or we visit, but don't share the facts of our lives. Or we cut off contact completely.

Some of us haven't spoken to our families in so long that we can't remember what their voices sound like, or recall the planes of our faces.

But a new decade is coming, my friends.

All of us have become more activist in the past few years, as more of our issues have come up for public debate and more of our bills have come up for a vote. We march. We write our legislators. We wear stickers and pins and explain our positions to strangers.

Now it is time to go home and explain our positions to our families.

There are some exceptions to this, of course. Some families are so dysfunctional that they can never hear us. Some families are emotionally or physically abusive - it would be dangerous for us to darken their doors.

But in the majority of cases, I think, what separates us is not violence or the threat of violence, but a wall built of bricks of misunderstanding, silence, anger and denial.

It is time for us to break through. Not only for ourselves, but for the greater good of our civil rights.

Studies have shown that people are more likely to vote for our rights or otherwise act on our behalf if they know (and presumably, are fond of) gay people. But results must be better if those gay people also use love and gentle persuasion to show them why bills like ENDA and gay marriage are important to us.

Sometimes, our families surprise us.

I tend to think that my family doesn't care at all about gay civil rights. Yet recently, when marriage was up for a vote in New York, I took a deep breath and called or emailed all of my New York relatives to ask them to call their legislators.

All of them did.

My family can't be the only one that seems indifferent but is instead only waiting to be asked to help.

So go home this Christmas. Or call home. Let's start building a bridge back to our families.

An intact family will not only warm our own hearts - it will eventually help our cause.