"Well, I guess now that the federal government is recognizing it, I can do it," he deadpanned.
My wife and I looked at the immigration officer with expressive eyes, wondering if this was an intended insult or a severe lack of knowledge on his part. Only moments before, we were standing in line at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago after an eight-hour transatlantic flight from Stockholm, Sweden. Not one time on the trip abroad did we feel out of sorts or discriminated against, but the moment we stepped onto U.S. soil by way of O'Hare, we were singled out.
"How do you know each other?" he asked.
"We're married," I answered, plainly. Nothing. "In Washington state," I added.
Insert the line here about the federal government recognizing it now and that he guessed he had to do it, too.
Perhaps the most ironic part of it all was that only a few months before we had left the U.S. for a week in gorgeous Puerto Vallarta. While traveling through Salt Lake City, Utah, no one stopped us. We held hands, we hugged, we talked closely, and not a peep. When it was time to talk with the Immigration Officer on the way back home, he told me to please step forward. You see, I had stayed behind while my wife went up to have her passport stamped.
"Why are you over there? You're married, right?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "But I wasn't sure if I should be up here, too, or not considering marriage equality isn't legal everywhere."
"But it's legal in your state," he looked at our passports, "Washington, right?"
"Yes," my wife said.
"This is ridiculous. They need to streamline this. You should both be up here together regardless of the airport, you're married. There is no difference," he said.
Enter Chicago.
We approached the desk together on our way back home to Seattle. We were exhausted, overwhelmed, befuddled with bewilderment about how on earth we would make it through the four-hour layover to the next four-hour flight and back into our warm, cozy bed. At least we were together. Then the comment from the peanut gallery occurred.
We had expected such a pushback in Salt Lake City, but not Chicago. So when it was presented to us, we were silent, stunned. Could this really be happening? Welcome back to the United States: Land of the Sometimes Free, but Mostly Judgmental.
Kudos to you, officer, for recognizing us as a committed, married couple because the federal government told you that you had to. The courage that must have taken…
To put things into perspective, I'm 30 years old. I've never known a life without AIDS. I've never known a life without discrimination. But I have known a life without the federal Defense of Marriage Act ( DOMA ), and it's beautiful. The comment made by the Immigration Officer was unfortunate, unkind, unfair and unjust, but it's a tender reminder of how far we have yet to go in the fight for equal marriage in the United States of America.