Prime Minister,
We met once. Twice, actually. I was working for the Education Minister in Queensland and you were the Deputy Prime Minister and Federal Education Minister. We were on the same page. Your Government had siphoned off more than $100 million for our most disadvantaged kids. The ones who were born into the poorest areas with the least opportunity. But you were resolute. Demography should not be destiny, you said. And I could see it in the glint of your eye that you meant it. I could see that you hated the circumstance these kids found themselves in. That they felt inferior. The very idea of it ate you up inside. And you wanted, at least to try, to fix it. So they wouldn’t feel broken in the future. I believed you.
As I write this, there is a whole new generation of kids growing up thinking they are broken. They’re from all walks of life. Rich, poor, athletic, bookish, black, white, brown. I’m talking about gay, lesbian, transgender, bisexual and intersex kids. You know the group. You’ve heard a lot from them. They’re growing up and falling in love in a country that has legislated their flaws in the marriage act. They are ‘queer’ and the others are not. The others can marry, the queers cannot. And it’s you, Prime Minister, the woman I watched defend the very idea that the world into which we are born should not define the world in which we live, lead the charge to ban them from access to the most routine aspects of love itself. Marriage.
I’m one of ‘them’. The gay one. The one by the very dent of your ‘traditionalism’ you deem unworthy of an institution that rightly belongs to everyone else, be they religious, atheist, with kids or without. And you may think this is an argument solely based on those of us who want to marry. It’s not. It’s about the message you willingly broadcast to the world when you say it’s OK to segregate one part of the public from another. Tradition is no argument, it never should be. You’d never be in this position if it were. And anybody who stands on that side of the divide is complicit in the suffering that stems from it.