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Sermon by Anne Spatola & Theresa Novak Anne: I want to share with you today how Theresa and I started our family. It has not always been an easy journey, and has presented many challenges as well as furnishing immense satisfaction. Theresa and I have been life partners for 28 years, and for most of those years we have had children in our lives. Theresa and I always joke that we began building our family
backwards. We experienced parenting teenagers before we had infants.
Early in 1977, two years after we became a couple, my then 14
year old nephew came to live with us. Moving to Marin in 1981 and turning 30 had a dramatic effect
on us. The suburban family scene and the biological time clock
came together with a jolt. After some discussion, T and I decided
to sign up for the Fost-Adopt program with Marin County. This
program placed children in homes under foster care with the understanding
that the child could later be adopted by the foster family. We
were assigned a social worker, went through the entire process
including home studies and parenting classes. Then we waited.
After many months, I contacted our social worker to ask why we
hadn't heard anything. Finally, late in 1982 we were contacted about Kelly. She was 9 ½, and she had not been released for adoption . The child's mother was still very much in the picture. We agreed to this arrangement even though it was not what we had been wanting or expecting. Kelly was a wonderful child who had experienced some neglect from her mom but no physical or real emotional abuse. She still had a very strong bond with her biological mother. She was also fairly outspoken and fit in very well with Theresa and me. With us, she experienced structure, consistent discipline, and security for the first time. Naturally, our hearts were broken when the judge, a year and a half later, decided to give her mother a second chance at parenting by returning Kelly to her. This decision was made against the social worker's recommendation that Kelly remain with us and be released for adoption. It was devastating to lose Kelly. For a while , we had actually believed that we might get to adopt her. We loved her as parents and now we were going to lose her for good. We had no rights, visitation was not even an issue. Her mother didn't want to compete with us for her love. However, in Kelly's eyes, she had three moms. She still keeps in touch with us. She will be turning 30 next summer and has been thinking about being a foster parent herself. Kelly's loss was the catalyst that resulted in our having our own biological children. After Kelly left, we considered our options. More than anything, we knew we wanted children permanently in our lives. We also really did not want to go through the county experience again. Therefore, we decided that one of us should get pregnant. Since I was younger by 10 months, I was it. I was excited but frightened. I would have to experience all the discomfort and pain as well as eat healthy and take vitamins for 9 months. I wasn't sure I could go through with it. Knowing that we would have our own baby that no one could take away was the deciding factor for me. Of course, now we had to figure out how I would get pregnant. We thought about friends and family and eliminated those possibilities fairly quickly. Artificial insemination, although not too common in 1984, was a viable option. I contacted a feminist women's clinic in the east bay that was starting to operate as a sperm bank. After lots of paperwork and medical exams, our most critical decision was before us. Unlike most heterosexual couples, we had to consciously choose the characteristics for our child's biological father. Aside from the physical aspects, one critical feature of the selection was the willingness of the donor to allow the release of his identity when the child turned age 18. Theresa and I strongly believe that children are most influenced by their surroundings and environment. But we also wanted to give our children the opportunity to meet their biological father if they chose. Having one baby did not dramatically alter our lives. We still continued to eat out on a regular basis and simply packed David along with us on our usual outings. Strangers tend to be accepting of women with children and suddenly we found people being friendlier and more open. Everyone loves to comment on the baby in the carriage and our baby was no exception. Our child became a shield for us. We felt some protection against society's questioning stares. Most strangers truly did not understand our relationship and David was too young to comment. Theresa was unhappy at times for being mistaken for the grandma, even though we are the same age. It was the only explanation some people could believe seeing two woman doting on the same baby. When David was about a year and a half old, we started debating the pros and cons of raising single children. We had become such parental experts that we began to consider having a second child. We didn't want to deny David the joys of having a sibling. Naturally, we didn't consider sibling rivalry, having little experience with it. For this second go round, no decisions had to be made about who would bear the child. I had had a hideous labor and was not about to go through it again. This was clearly Theresa's turn. We renewed our paperwork with the sperm bank and selected the same donor we had used for David. Biologically, we would all be connected. Two months after Theresa began inseminating, we were contacted by the county social service agency. They had a difficult child who needed placement in a fost-adopt family. They thought we might be interested. Brandy was almost 10 , the oldest of 3 siblings who had been emotionally, sexually, and physically abused. Parental rights had been terminated. All three children were being placed for adoption into 3 separate homes. We put pregnancy on hold, made a number of changes and brought Brandy into our home. This child was not ready for us and we weren't ready for her. She had endured and survived too much in her 10 short years. We simply weren't equipped to help her, although we tried. When we realized that she had the potential to hurt David, we decided to suggest that another placement be made for her. Brandy had also made it very clear from the outset that she did not want to be adopted. Brandy's time with us was a brief and troubled 6 months and her leaving was not like losing Kelly. However, there was a definite feeling of disappointment and failure. We needed a break before thinking about more children, and decided to concentrate on David. A little over a year later, Theresa tried again and quickly became pregnant. David was about 3 1/2 when we told him that he would soon have either a little brother or a sister. He adamantly informed us that he was going to have both a brother AND a sister. We laughed at the absurdity of our having twins. Weeks later when I saw the sonagram with those two tiny bodies, I knew then that nothing would ever be the same again. There was no going back. As the children grew older we realized we were becoming more open about our relationship. When your 4 year old runs up to you ands says "Mama, Mom wants to know if we need more bread.", other people in the grocery store tend to notice. We also wanted our children to feel secure and proud of their family. The only times we have instructed them to be quiet have been when safety was a real issue - for instance when traveling in Montana, Idaho, Utah, Wyoming, or even parts of California. It wouldn't be good for them or for us. In 1994, we formalized our relationships by cross adopting each other's birth children. Legally, each of our children has two parents. This was important so that they would have full inheritance rights and also because they are the result of a joint and conscious decision made by two partners to form a loving family. It was a long, tedious, legal process that required more home studies, social workers, and finally a court date. At last, we were both legally related to the children and they are all legal siblings of each other. This has been our journey to becoming a family. It wasn't an easy one. Careful planning and sheer chance both played significant roles. But now it feels very right and it's hard to imagine what life would be had we not taken those initial steps into parenthood. Theresa: Anne just told you about our family, hers and mine. If you like, you can look at some photographs after the service. Now I will talk a little about all of us, all of our families, and a little about what I think all of this means in terms of being a Unitarian Universalist. First, just so we know who is here today, I have a few questions. I will ask some of you to raise your hands. I want to stress, however, that I DON'T want you to raise your hands ANY sooner than you feel comfortable. OK. How many of you, here today, identify yourselves as being gay/l/b/t? (GLBT alphabet sandwich). Thank you, please keep your hands up if you will. How many of you have or have had close family members - parents, children, brothers, sisters that are g/l/b/t? What about aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, grandparents, cousins, in-laws, etc.? Keep your hands up and look around for a minute and see how many of us there are. If we add friends, neighbors, and coworkers I dare say virtually EVERYONE here would have their hand raised. Go ahead, do it! Please put your hands down now. G/l/b/t people are definitely a part of families . . and our larger family - humanity. But I want to ask you to think back in time. Was there a time say 5, 10, even 20 years ago when you would have been reluctant to raise your hand? It can be hard for family members of gay folks to "come out" too, something that isn't always acknowledged. As a percentage of the population, there really aren't any more gay people now than there have ever been - there are just more places where it is safe to come out. Think, for a minute, how comfortable you would be raising your hand even today in a different situation -at school, at work, in a less welcoming religious institution. If you are gay yourself there was very probably a time when you were "in the closet." There may still be those times, even around some family members. There are definitely times and places where I am afraid, and some of those times it's a physical fear. Anne mentioned how this can happen sometimes when we are traveling. And that brings me to a point I want to make. Those of us who are g/l/b/t pretty much live out most our lives just like anyone else. We go to work, to home, to church, out to dinner, shopping, on a hike. We are happy or sad for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with being gay. But there is an aspect of our collective experience that we can learn from, and share with those of you who have not lived it. We have found love, created families in a way that is not the norm. We have done so with virtually every aspect of this society against us, and often under threat of physical harm. And we have learned an incredible thing. It is worth it. Love, sharing closely, deeply with another human being, is worth it almost no matter what the cost. The cost can be very high for g/l/b/t folks, and higher for some of us than others. Everyone remembers Matthew Shepard's murder, but there have been many others and almost every week there is a report of more violence. A transgender teen-ager was murdered right here in the Bay Area in the city of Newark this last October. Anti-gay comments are still heard daily in almost every school in the country. Our own children started hearing the anti-gay stuff when they were in about the fourth grade. We live in the very liberal San Anselmo-Fairfax area of Marin County and the school was fairly responsive when we complained. We did not complain loudly enough for our older son though and he went through a lot of harassment from some of the kids for having two moms. The schools are where the violence and hatred against gay people - and our families - is born anew in each new generation. The kids need the help of adults to stop it. When one of our younger son Daniel's friends referred to his PE teacher as a "lesbo" I called the boy's mother about it. This boy had spent the night at our house many times, and we'd had dinner and even gone on weekend trips with his parents. Daniel was very upset that one of his close friends would be insulting gay people and by extension, our family. The mother was absolutely appalled when I spoke to her and she questioned her son. The boy cried when she asked him about it and she found out that he'd been harassed on the playground and was being called a "god damned fag" by other boys. He used antigay language to distance himself for his own protection. One study reported that 32% of college age males admit to having physically assaulted someone they perceived as gay, simply for being gay. No wonder kids are afraid of what other kids think. I am saying this here today, not just to urge you all to action, to help stop the violence and the hate - and the fear which is often at the source of violence. Action is important of course and UU's have been very active on glbt issues and that work needs to continue. But I also want you to think and to feel some of what it means to be "out". "Out" about whatever is a part of the essential you. And how important, how meaningful it is, when others accept you for all of who you are. Think about it. People hold so much within themselves, in fear. Afraid of reaching out for comfort. Afraid of rejection, worried about what someone might think if you show your vulnerability. Afraid of what you truly want and need. Afraid to say what you are frightened of, afraid to talk about your failings and the real struggles you face in your life. Gay folks aren't any better than anyone else at this in general. Most of us have only made that leap about our relationships and then it's often only in the sometimes insular gay community. In many ways we have a very hard time reaching out to the larger community. We are afraid of homophobia, of being misunderstood, so we often hold back and don't talk about the realities of our lives with our straight friends and acquaintances. I myself can fall into the trap of presenting the image of the perfect lesbian mom, living a very idealized life, and sometimes fail to talk about the hopes and fears I have, especially for my children. It's safer to stay behind the masks we all have, but it's really not better. If we take the risks, talk about the hard stuff, we can widen our family circles in understanding. It is a leap of faith. And it is a leap of faith that I think our religion demands of us. As Unitarian Universalist's we don't ask each other to sign on to any particular religious dogma. But we do pledge compassion and justice in human relationships, and as we seek our own and our collective spiritual growth we need to know each other and to let ourselves be known. All of us have something that is hard to talk about, that causes fear or pain. Sharing those feelings with another can make them easier to bear. As we bear our sorrows together, so joy can come in too. So too can we help each other, and help partly because although we are each different, we hold our humanity, our compassion in common. Our first UU principle is the covenant, the promise, to affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every person. This is a value that I have found Unitarian Universalists hold very dear. The welcome, the acceptance, that our family has received in our religious community has been just awesome. For me, being a Unitarian Universalist is at its essence, about connection. Connection with others and with the Holy, however you define what is Holy to you. For me, God lives most fully where we connect to each other, when we are each our true and whole selves, when we look into each others eyes and see compassion and understanding reflected back. When we say that we affirm the inherent worth and dignity of all persons it is a promise, a blessing we offer to others, but it is also a promise, a blessing that we give to ourselves. We are promising to treat each other - and ourselves - with dignity and respect. It is not always an easy promise to keep - this faith of ours is a demanding one - but what a glorious promise - and what a net - a web - of safety and warmth we create for ourselves as we try to live with that promise. The world I would like to see for my children, for all of our children, is one where we remind each other always of our common humanity. Where we are not afraid of our differences, where those differences instead of causing conflict serve instead to shed more light on the mystery of life and what is, in fact, holy in each of us. We are family - we are all family, may we grow ever closer and rest easy in each others hearts. Blessed Be!
Divine spirit, love of life, eternal hope, compassion's heart. Blessed Be!  |