The Rules: Over the course of six weeks, we'll challenge Tegan and Sara to blog about one of three themes -- laugh, rage or cry -- and, in fine Sister Quin fashion, wax literal on something that recently made them do just that. It's simple, really. The twins will alternate weeks, bringing their blogging total to 3-all. We wanted to call this series Brooklyn Tegan and Dr. Quin, but then we came to our senses. Without further ado ...

This Week's Theme: RAGE

Editor's Note: This week's edition of Laugh, Rage, Cry will be a special one, featuring two individual columns by both Tegan and Sara, who chose to respond to the passing of California's Proposition 8, which rescinds the right for homosexuals to marry.

This past week has been full of ups and downs for me. I'm sad I left "Rage" for this essay, mainly because I think what we really need right now is to embody the courage, calm and focus that Barack Obama used in becoming President Elect. He endured ridiculous circumstances and ignorance with dignity. He never complained. He never cried. He never seemed angry enough to smack John McCain in their debates. I would have. I could never be president. I would definitely let my rage spill out. I did. Every time I heard "my friends," I would swear and sweat and seethe. But Obama didn't do that. He just smiled and looked into our eyes all across America and beyond, assuring us he would, he could. And he did.

If this essay were about crying I would write about how sorry I am for all the same sex couples (numbering nearly 20,000) who got married in California this past summer, and whose relationships now hang in the balance, waiting to find out if their nuptials are null and void.

I would tell you how sorry I am for those who got engaged in hopes that they would be able to get married but now cannot.

I would write about how my eyes welled up and the tears spilled out of me on election night, when the Proposition 8 "Yes" votes outnumbered the "No" votes in California.

I would write about how angry and frustrated I felt, standing outside the gates protecting the Mormon Church on Sunset Blvd, wondering who and what could protect our rights.



I don't want to write about rage, but I have certainly felt it this past week. I felt it most when the girl I am dating -- who has never dated a girl before -- collapsed in her car and cried after the Prop 8 rally. She wondered aloud if we wouldn't make more progress by just crying rather than yelling and being angry. I've wondered this a lot myself. Is it in part our anger and our frustration that adds to their anger and judgment?

I've felt personal rage because I've worked so hard to win over this girl, and now in the wake of a new relationship, I'm spending most of my time focusing on and reflecting the hatred and judgment some people feel for those of us who are in same-sex relationships and marriages. It's like telling someone your house is totally worth buying, but the only issue is that everyone on the block hates your house because it's the only one on the block with a single-car garage instead of a double. Ignoring the fact that, regardless of how it looks from the outside, yours is filled with the same love, compassion, and values.

I feel rage when I imagine the Prop Yes people celebrating, thinking they've won something, when, in fact, they've just stolen something.

I feel rage when I pour over the parallels between this civil rights movement and the ones of our past.

I feel rage when I read the statistics on who voted Yes. You'd think minorities and Mormons would specifically understand the burn of judgment, ignorance and prejudice.

But my rage is slowly transforming. It started as a rock in my stomach. Then a fire in my heart. Yesterday it was a fog in my mind. As the days have passed, I'm becoming focused and I am starting to feel brave again. I want to rally and march and be proud. This morning I felt triumphant. 67% of people who voted No on Prop 8 were under 30! Change is coming! As Melissa Etheridge wrote in a recent article, "Gay people are born everyday. You'll never legislate that away."

As I type, I feel hopeful. Look how far we have come! As an example, below are some quotes from Paul Martin, the former Prime Minister of Canada, who, three years ago, stood before Parliament and defended the rights of gay people. I hope they give you the antidote you might need to turn back the effects of the rage you might be feeling in the wake of the Prop 8 debacle. Let it instead inspire you the way it did me. Let it promote movement and organization on your part to continue the fight for civil rights for all people. Let it remove the stain of this Proposition and instead give way to change.

"The rights of Canadians who belong to a minority group must always be protected by virtue of their status as citizens, regardless of their numbers. These rights must never be left vulnerable to the impulses of the majority."

"We must always remember that 'separate but equal' is not equal."
"We all are lessened when any one of us is denied a fundamental right."
"Our rights must be eternal, not subject to political whim."
"Over time, perspectives changed. We evolved, we grew, and our laws evolved and grew with us. That is as it should be. Our laws must reflect equality not as we understood it a century or even a decade ago, but as we understand it today."

–Paul Martin, former Prime Minister of Canada

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