By Rebecca Fielder
I think pretty much anything and everything there is to be said about the topic of marriage and the LGBT community has been said. My opinion probably carries much less credibility than many others’ opinions do. I’ll quote Forrest Gump: “I don’t know much about anything.”
I’m a Christian, and that means the world to me. Politically, I consider myself a moderate conservative, which means almost nothing. There’s a small smattering of political issues, such as that of abortion, I have a strong right-winged belief about. With pretty much everything political, though, I get frustrated with minute details and complexities that clash with politicians’ overly-simplified platforms. This frustration is so great that I often don’t know what to think at all.
I think that maybe I believe the Bible and it says homosexuality is wrong, but even if I could come to a sound conclusion on that, I don’t have a clue as to how or even if the issue should be legislated.
“Love” is a frustratingly large and vague concept to wrap one’s mind around. There are different people to whom we give different types of love. There are different reasons we find to love others, reasons we like people and reasons those people are important to us.
Many Christians discuss how best to love the LGBT community. Are homosexuals and transgender folks doing things right? Wrong? Are they heroes? Deviants? Should we give “these people” praise or hate, or charity? Are they to be chastised or encouraged? Pitied?
This is the way I go about loving another person: I go to Starbucks with them. I get in line to order. I complain to them about how I’m drinking way too many sugary drinks, but I order one anyway. I sit down with that person and sip on my coffee. I make fun of them for not realizing you can order a “white” mocha. Then when they start to fuss over the cold they’re coming down with, I get up and buy them a cookie, because I’m helpless at all things medical and know nothing better to do.
It just seems unnatural, unkind and unhelpful to treat a person as anything or anyone but themselves, no matter their sexual orientation or skin color or preference between “Family Guy” and “South Park.” When getting to know someone, I focus on the things unique to them: the way their voice sounds, the aura their body movements put off, their sense of humor. Their uniqueness stamps itself into my memory as no one else’s ever has. Maybe I talk with them about political and moral issues – if that’s something they want to talk about, or if I just read a tweet from NBC about someone blocking traffic to further their own political agenda. But then again, maybe not.
I don’t want to suggest that the issue of marriage and things LGBT is something I would roll over on my back about. Political apathy is not the gist of my spiel. Avoiding confrontation would leave a person with no friends and no real personality. However, I think there is a time and place for having a heart-to-heart with your transgender friend about the implications of sexual reassignment surgery. I think that time often comes long after the front-burner issue of tending to that friend’s cold and stealing a pinch of the cookie you originally bought for them.
Rebecca Fiedler is a junior journalism major from Waco. She is a staff writer for The Lariat.