In middle America, a mix of hope, anxiety

ST. LOUIS -- In the American heartland, where billboards reading "Jesus Saves" loom beside highways and where many people proudly count themselves as Christian conservatives, the communities of gays and lesbians are awaiting the dawn of same-sex marriage in Massachusetts with a mixture of elation and apprehension.

Some say they have already booked tickets to Boston and onward to Provincetown, where they hope to exchange vows with beloved partners -- even though marriages between out-of-staters may be illegal in Massachusetts and have zero chance of being recognized under laws back home.

Meanwhile, gays and lesbians across the Midwest are bracing for a political backlash over the controversial ruling of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court.

"In the long run, I feel gay marriage is inevitable everywhere, even conservative places like Missouri," said Michael G. Getty, 34, a linguist in St. Louis who is gay. "But in the short term, there's going to be a lot of fear and hate-mongering. Just because you see some gays portrayed positively on TV doesn't mean Joe and Jill America are ready to have us raising kids next door."

Missouri, which includes such relatively cosmopolitan zones as St. Louis and Kansas City but whose political identity is forged in small towns and farming counties where much of the population dwells and Christian morality holds powerful sway, is prominent among the 35 states presently scrambling to amend state constitutions or pass legislation to ban same-sex marriage.

Almost no one, including gay activists, was surprised last week when the Missouri Legislature approved a statewide referendum for November that would formally enshrine marriage in the state constitution as the legal bond between one man and one woman, period.

The state, like more than 30 others, already had passed the Defense of Marriage Act, which does not require Missouri to recognize same-sex marriages performed in other states. However, legislators believe that amending the state constitution to ban gay marriage would be less susceptible to legal challenges.

"Why the rush for a referendum to prevent us from enjoying a normal life?" asked Nancy Larson, editor of the Vital Voice, a newspaper aimed at the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered community in St. Louis. "I'll give you one word -- Massachusetts."

Opponents of same-sex marriage agree. Recent weeks have seen rallies against gay marriage in Missouri's capital, Jefferson City, and other locales -- rallies supported by church and conservative political groups.

"Massachusetts is very much on the minds of ordinary Missourians," said Vicky Hartlzer, spokeswoman for the Coalition to Protect Marriage in Missouri, the political organization behind the push to amend the state constitution.

"It's going to shake this state and other parts of the US out of lethargy and denial," she said. "We don't want this travesty rippling across our great country. This isn't about hate. I'm not a basher. But marriage of woman to man, man to woman, is a basic foundation stone of society. It's family. And we in Missouri are going to protect families at any cost."

In the ill-defined realm called Middle America -- a place where most people attend church with faithful regularity -- same-sex marriage is viewed as an assault on irrefutable values: on Christian morality as prescribed by the Old Testament, and also on the notion that the most serious obligation individuals owe to society is to raise children in stable families headed by parents of opposite sex. In places where gay marriage has won legal endorsement, whether Massachusetts, parts of Canada, or Holland, proponents of same-sex unions argue that all families, no matter their makeup, require care and nurturing to thrive. Provide love, they say, and families of two dads or two moms will thrive. But that notion doesn't carry weight in much of the US heartland, where polls show nearly 75 percent of people oppose same-sex marriage.

"Probably no two states better reflect the divisions within our nation than Missouri and Massachusetts," said Diane Elze, an assistant professor of social work at Washington University in St. Louis who works with gay and lesbian teenagers.

But Elze emphasized that it's oversimplification to stereotype inhabitants of Missouri and other mainstream states as bigots and homophobes. There's a lot of live-and-let-live attitude in the heartland, she said. Gay and lesbian culture may not be quite as high profile as in the cities of the East and West coasts, but many gays follow their lifestyles openly and most say that in day-to-day life they are generally treated with tolerance and respect.

In March, Lesley C. Proud, 55, and her longtime partner Sally Nelson, 50, exchanged vows at a Unitarian chapel in Missouri. The wedding was purely symbolic; there was no license. Gay or lesbian couples have no legal status anywhere in the United States except in the civil union state of Vermont and, starting today, in Massachusetts. The ceremony received much media coverage. And Proud and Nelson braced for a gush of hate mail and angry calls.

"Instead, people have been mostly sweet and supportive," said Proud, who runs a corporate catering business.

"Still, I think there's going to be a political backlash when folks turn on the TV news and see same-sex couples getting married for real in Massachusetts," Proud said. "Sally and I are hoping we can go to Provincetown to be legally married. And I think the day will come when same-sex couples will be able to get married even in Missouri. But probably not in my lifetime."

Jeff Wunrow, executive director of PROMO, a Missouri gay and lesbian group, called the advent of single-sex marriage in Massachusetts a significant triumph -- but probably not the sort of world-turned-upside-down victory that some heady Bay State activists have proclaimed. "At best, the day that Massachusetts makes history will mark the day that the real uphill battle begins for gays and lesbians in the rest of America," he said. "We're thrilled for our brothers and sisters in Boston. But we also recognize that Massachusetts is going to become a powerful rallying cry for opponents. A triumph in one place will inevitably mean a kick in the head for gays and lesbians elsewhere, in states where we are still vulnerable."

He was referring to the recent impetus given to opponents of single-sex marriage nationwide -- in at least 24 states, including Missouri, legislators are pushing for state constitutional amendments banning single-sex unions. Such amendments may be more difficult to overturn than simple statute laws.

Some gays worry that the push for same-sex marriage will undercut the widening acceptance they have won in society. "I really think this could backfire badly," said a corporate attorney in Kansas City, Mo., who makes no particular secret of his sexual orientation but refuses to proclaim it.

"I've got one foot out of the closet, which is far enough for Missouri," he said.

Speaking on condition that he not be identified, the attorney said that had gay activists focused on achieving Vermont-style civil unions they "could have won broad support from many Americans. But `real marriage' is just a bridge too far. I've got straight friends, dear friends, whom I know to be fair-minded and compassionate. But marriage between men and men or women and women -- that's just not palatable to too many people. "

He added: "I'm truly fearful that single-sex marriage will inflame prejudice at a time when gays and lesbians are winning genuine acceptance on so many other fronts. Is that marriage certificate really worth it?"

Many gays and lesbians believe that it is. "There will be a backlash, there's always a backlash, but I truly believe that the arc of American history is always toward freedom and equality," said Getty, the St. Louis linguist who journeyed to Canada last year after Ontario became the first jurisdiction in North America to legalize same-sex marriage.

He and partner Brian Vetruba, 36, tied the knot in a Toronto ceremony, then were refused reentry to the United States until they agreed to fill out individual customs forms, as opposed to the "family" forms that heterosexual couples can submit.

"I was sorry I had to go to Canada instead of getting married in Missouri. But at least I have the happiness of knowing my husband and I are a legal family -- at least somewhere," he said. "I think what's happened in Canada and what's about to happen in Massachusetts will change the thinking of all Americans. People will see gays and lesbians getting married in Boston. The skies won't rain scorpions; the rivers won't turn to blood. Two men will have exchanged vows. Or two women. Ho-hum. Big deal. Life goes on. And that's what will bring victory, even in the heartland: the utter normalcy of our love."