I have been glued to Yahoo and Google News for a week waiting for the gay marriage vote in New York’s Senate.  Tick tock, tick tock.  Apprehension turned to despair as Friday morning turned into afternoon turned into twilight.

POB (partner of blogger) and I went to synagogue for Pride Shabbat.  It was standing room only, as it often is, but there was something hanging in the air.  As we sang hallels (songs of praise) and chanted the ancient affirmation of faith, we knew that change was in the air.  The air was thick with anticipation, with hope and promise and maybe a little resentment that our love and commitments needed legislative legitimacy.  (Especially in a time where we don’t hold our elected officials in the highest esteem.)

The rabbi, who eschews modern-day devices on Shabbat, was not displeased to be informed by those on their gadgets about the minute by minute developments, which she dutifully conveyed to the congregation.  I think she also wanted to keep people seated as we all yearned to be at Stonewall on Sheridan Square (in mind if not in middle-aged body) to celebrate.  She told us that our services would conclude before the New York Senate vote was finished, and she reminded us that the Stonewall riots didn’t start until Saturday morning, after Jews were finished at synagogue, saying the Mourner’s Prayer for Judy Garland, whose funeral that day probably sparked the patrons of Stonewall to fight back against the police that night.

I have been a privileged white woman all my life.  I am Jewish, a minority for sure, but I live in New York City where the public schools close for our major holidays.  I wasn’t a second class citizen until I realized I was gay.  And then realized that there were groups in the country — and the world — who foisted every societal failing on our “evil” love: divorce, plagues, wild fires, floods, etc.   How evil could we be if we contribute more in tax dollars, charitable giving, cohesion of community, and frankly, good parenting than most?  And still these, these, “righteous” people wielded power over my life, livelihood, legal rights and happiness.

I wonder now why people were rejoicing when the Civil Rights Act was passed.  I think people should have been seething that degradation and abuse should have taken so damn long to be outlawed.

While I applaud Governor Cuomo, and those who voted their conscience on Friday, I am not grateful.  If I were grateful, it would imply that I received something possibly undeserved.  Actually, my anger at having to be “protected” is oozing from my pores.  “Why did anyone have this power over me in the first place?”

I am here, I am queer and, no matter what, I am too old to be at Stonewall celebrating anyway.