Welcome to Vermont!

I know it makes people in New England cringe, but there’s a dream popular among New Yorkers of moving to the country and buying a farm in Vermont. I think Vermont is chosen as a setting for that dream because it’s rural, beautiful, and the people have a reputation for being liberal. Even though I am from the Northeast originally, before this trip, Vermont was one of the six states I’d never been to. (I’m down to three: Wisconsin, Nebraska, and Alaska.)

I was sad the weather didn’t accommodate a longer visit to Vermont. I really wanted to get to Burlington. I just knew I’d love it. It wasn’t to be, however. As we mentioned in a previous post, the RV parks in northern Vermont had their water shut off during the time of our visit. It was also threatening to snow. So we headed south to Massachusetts–where it actually did snow.

But here’s what we missed as far as being queer in Vermont goes.

Vermont

• Vermonters of all sexual orientations can marry as of September 1, 2009! The legislature passed the new law, and even overrode a veto by the governor. The state also recognize same-sex marriages from other states. Prior to September 1, Vermont had civil unions that held all the same rights and responsibilities as marriage in Vermont. These will continue to be recognized, but no civil unions will be performed as of Sept. 1.
• Married gay and lesbian people in Vermont and those who have entered a civil union may make medical decisions for an incapacitated spouse or partner, and have visitation rights in the hospital. Those who have not married or civilly unioned (See how awkward that is?) may enact an advance directive authorizing a partner to make medical decisions. The advance directive must be dated and signed by the individual in the presence of two or more witnesses.
• Any adult in Vermont may adopt, including single LGBT people. Those with a civil union or married same-sex partners may adopt jointly, and married and unified (Is that better?) couples may adopt each other’s children.
• Vermont will issue a new birth certificate for transgender individuals with a decree of the probate court of the district where the individual was born. No idea how hard that is to get, or what warrants that decree.
• Vermont hate crimes law covers both sexual orientation and gender identity.
• Discrimination on the basis of both gender identity and sexual orientation are prohibited in Vermont.
• Vermont’s anti-harassment education law protects students from bullying on the basis of their sexual orientation and gender identity. [via GLSEN, otherwise via HRC]

Vermont gets 100% on my (admittedly not comprehensive) LGBT law survey–gold star! Maybe I will buy that farm after all.

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[Aside: Etymologically, boondocks is one of the few English words to derive from Tagalog: bundok, or mountain. (If you're curious, some others are yo-yo and cooties.) American soldiers occupying the Philippines misused it to mean a remote, wild place. If you were in one of those places, I guess you would have to boondock your RV.]

Not us. RV parks seem to these city kids to be remote and wild enough. We don’t have a television in the trailer, but if we did, we could hook up to the park’s cable. We certainly use the WiFi. And most parks have a store with necessities like RV-safe toilet paper and peanut butter. Not exactly roughin’ it.

Guadalupe County Safety Rest Stop

Last night was our first adventure in boondocking. Remote? No, unless you call a major interstate remote. Wild? I would have to say exceedingly cultivated, actually. Texas, it seems, has some very well-developed rest stops. Ours, located just outside of the San Antonio city limits, had a beautiful, air-conditioned building with faux rock benches and a giant-screen TV playing videos detailing the area’s attractions. It had amazing landscaping with desert and forest vegetation–freshly fertilized, I believe, if I can trust my nose. There was a playground and interpretive trails. And supposedly it had free WiFi, but we couldn’t get it to work.

Once the trailer doors were closed, it was hard to tell we were at a rest stop rather than an RV park. Our computers did run out of batteries eventually, but since the WiFi wasn’t working (which is also a common occurrence in RV parks), that was not a huge issue. I woke up a few times because really massive trucks drove by us, but I’m a light sleeper. Ami and Frances didn’t notice. And since we didn’t hook up anything, getting started in the morning was a cinch. In fact, I think we got on the road before 8 a.m.–a personal best. No trouble finding the interstate.

We can’t do it all the time, since our RV batteries only charge when hooked up to electricity, but I think we’ll save some of our RV park dollars by boondocking occasionally as we head back home. Apparently most K-Marts and Wal-Marts also allow you to park your RV for the night in their lots, but compared to the luxuries of the Guadalupe County Westbound Safety Rest Stop, those are some stripped-down digs.

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Somewhere along the way, we’d decided to drive to DC on the day of our meeting with our representative. I think it was partly a comfort concern–we were staying at my cousin Ceil’s apartment near Philly, and it’s got great things like a guest room and a shower. It was also partly a money concern–the park closest to DC is also very expensive–twice the price of some RV parks–so we didn’t want to stay there two nights. It takes about 2 1/2 to 3 hours to get from Philly to DC, and our meeting was at 1 p.m. We left at 7:09 a.m. I looked at the clock on the way out. I remember being proud of us for coming very close to making the 7 a.m. goal we’d set.

We arrived, all of us, dogs included, in the car, minus the trailer, at 12:59 p.m. I got out with Frances while Ami went to look for parking. I blame the Maryland highway system, and in our very roundabout detour I had enough time to call them and make a complaint. They’re sending me a form to make a claim against them. Do you think they’ll send me money for pissing me off?

Attention Maryland Department of Transportation: if you have a special detour for people carrying propane tanks, you must let them know before the exit on the highway that takes you to that detour.

There. I’ve vented that. Now we can move on.

The House Office Building is pretty impressive. Long hallways where women’s shoes click so loud you can hear them at the other end of the corridor. Well, most of the women in the building, anyway. My rubber-soled shoes didn’t even squeak. All of the offices have round metal plaques that invite you to come on in. We arrived at Inslee’s door just as another guy did, and since he was in a wheelchair, I held the door for him. The front room was crowded with men in suits who smiled at me as I pushed Frances in the door. I must have looked pretty out of place. Stroller. Rubber-soled shoes. Jeans. (Black, but still.)

Before we had a chance to worry about where we’d sit, Laura, the woman who’d been so patient with our scheduling needs, popped out of an office in back and introduced herself. She also said that Jay was held up in a meeting and introduced us to his aide, David. I was a little crushed. People more experienced than us in political matters had warned us that we might not get to meet with the Rep himself, only an aide.

It was a huge disappointment. We’d traveled so far. We’d waited in the Northeast so our schedule would match up with Inslee’s. This was, however, no time to quit. We would have our meeting, with whomever was there to listen. And with any luck, we’d get to speak to the man himself at some point.

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Welcome to Maine!

We should have arrived yesterday in Maine.

It would have been much later than we planned, as usual. We took the route through Massachusetts to get there, so I thought we’d stop off in Northampton to sample a little lesbian culture before we headed east again.

That was before we realized we’d left Frances’s stroller at an abandoned gas station in Bennington. Detour to Holyoke to buy another Snap-n-Go, which we assembled in the entryway to Babies R Us.

Back on I-90, the dominant highway of our trip, it began to snow. Hard. It wasn’t sticking, but it was enough to slow traffic to a halt. It was dark; we were tired. We called my aunt in Auburn, Massachusetts, and stopped there for the night.

I don’t know if I should describe the varieties of minor troubles and inconveniences that we regularly endure on this trip. I guess I’ll mention the two that happened yesterday, not including the lost stroller, which technically happened the day before. One was during a stop for coffee at a Dunkin’ Donuts. They had a drive through, which looked like we could fit under it. But at the entryway to the drive through we saw the sign–9 feet of clearance. We weren’t sure, but it was definitely cutting it close. And we also saw that the drive through and the entrance were the only two ways out. Which meant, you guessed it, turning the car and trailer all the way around in a small parking lot. Let’s just say that as I did so I blocked the drive through long enough to get a middle finger flipped at me from a teenager who must have really needed a donut.

The other time was at a rest stop/truck stop right on the highway–the kind they have on toll roads so you don’t have to get off and back on. Usually these places are very carefully laid out. Trucks and cars with trailers go in one way, cars the other. This one had a sign directing only the trucks. So we took it, wondering if we were going the right way. We came around the back of the building to a place where several trucks were parked in a line. In the dark, it looked like your standard bank of pull-through spots, so I picked an opening between two trucks. Only to find there was a truck in front of me, too. We were in a truck dormitory. There I was for the second time in a day, backing the trailer out of a tight spot while blocking traffic and nearly jackknifing the thing. This time instead of getting the finger from a grumpy, donutless teen, I got guided out by a trucker, who at least tried not to laugh at us.

There’s a learning curve associated with this type of travel. One I’m still climbing.

So tomorrow, after we sleep in my friend Mandy’s driveway in Portland, Maine, we volunteer at No On 1. I’m looking forward to connecting with some local queers, and to doing something to help make Maine part of the Promised Land. Technically we didn’t have to come here–it is out of the way, and we’re not married here. But not to do so seemed remiss.

Yes, this trip is about how painfully, ridiculously dumb it is to be married in one state and not another. It’s about a whole-country approach to marriage equality. But there are real families in Maine whose lives are going to be greatly impacted by the outcome of November 3rd’s election. And this, too, is important. This, too, deserves our attention.

For the next couple of days, we’re yours, Maine. We will do what we can to help make Maine the first state to approve marriage equality at the polls. And I have a suspicion that Mainers will come through.

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Yesterday we had a late start, lingering in Iowa City where we were so well cared for (thanks, Justin!). It made for our latest night yet, rolling into the campground at 11 p.m. It didn’t help that we lost an hour in the middle of Indiana because of the change to East Coast time. It’s our last lost hour, though, so that feels pretty good.

The KOA in Middlebury, IN was kind of deluxe. There was a pool (empty–it’s almost winter, folks), a dog run, a game room, and a petting zoo. There weren’t any animals in the petting zoo, but still, the fact that they had one was impressive.

On our way to Iowa a few days ago we took a wrong turn and wound up passing through Minnesota. Going down the two-lane state route that took us into Iowa from the southwest tip of Minnesota was harrowing. It was raining, and every time a truck passed us going in the opposite direction we were overtaken by a deluge of rainwater. But it was worth it, since we got our great shots at the Iowa border. We wouldn’t have been able to turn off for a photo op on the Interstate.

So including this morning’s minor detour into Michigan, that’s four states whose LGBT rights we haven’t covered. Good thing that the Country Table Family Restaurant has Wi-Fi and bottomless cups of coffee. This morning I will backtrack and do Minnesota.

Minnesota

• “In 1970, Jack Baker and James Michael McConnell applied for a marriage license in Hennepin County, Minnesota. They were denied and filed suit. The state won and the case, Baker v. Nelson, was appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court, which in 1972 refused to hear it.” [via Wikipedia] This was only the second same-sex marriage lawsuit filed in the U.S. Current Minnesota law states: “The following marriages are prohibited: . . . a marriage between persons of the same sex. A marriage entered into by persons of the same sex, either under common law or statute, that is recognized by another state or foreign jurisdiction is void in this state and contractual rights granted by virtue of the marriage of its termination are unenforceable in this state. … All marriages which are prohibited by section 517.03 shall be absolutely void, without any decree of dissolution or other legal proceedings.” There is not an amendment to the Minnesota Constitution, but some groups have proposed one.
• Same-sex partners in Minnesota may not make medical decisions for their partners without advance directives. These must be in writing, dated, signed, and notarized.
• Any adult resident may adopt in Minnesota. There is no prohibition against same-sex partners jointly adopting or adopting each other’s children, but there has been no court case concerning these rights.
• After gender reassignment surgery, you may amend your Minnesota birth certificate.
• Minnesota hate crimes laws protect both gender identity and sexual orientation.
• You may not discriminate against someone in Minnesota because of sexual orientation or gender identity.
• Safe schools laws in Minnesota protect kids from bullying due to sexual orientation and gender identity. [via HRC unless otherwise noted]

There has obviously been some very good work done by LGBT activists and allies in Minnesota. Keep up the good work!

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