The Year of SCOTUS

by Teréza Eliasz-Solomon (HeiressMommy™)

DC_IMG_0825-IMG_0853_Supreme_Court_at_NightThere is a 1960’s song “I’m Your Puppet“- a romantic song of the ups and downs of a relationship. Last week I felt like that about The Supreme Court of the United States of America. They pulled my strings and played with my emotions. First tears and frustration as the Court announced the tearing down of the Voters Rights Act of 1965 – something near and dear to me as my late Father had worked for and been made triumphant in its passing. This law prohibited states that historically had been found to impose ” … to deny or abridge the right of [any] citizen of the United States to vote on account of race or color.”. What world are the five justices living in who found this no longer  problem is beyond me – in fact during the last two election cycles proof positive of this still being a problem was documented. People died for this right to vote as equal citizens and now I saw that being once again possibly denied – tears I shed and felt my own dedicated civil rights activist Father dishonored. So it was that I mourned this 2013 case Shelby County v. Holder decision.

Typical of many relationships, SCOTUS yanked my chain during the very same week by striking down DOMA and Prop 8 – issues my husband and I cared deeply about as we are supporters of REAL equal rights for all Americans, including the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender) citizens. Justice Kennedy joined the Liberal wing of the Court in deciding that this was a matter of equal protection under our constitution. I told everyone that I was having a party in my heart knowing that under civil law no one could be denied the rights and benefits of marriage. Now do not get upset dear conservative friends – no one is going to force your place of worship to perform same sex marriage ceremonies – no, no, no, but the civil ceremonies are to be made available to any two legally appropriate age Americans. Lets not forget that in Nazi Germany my husband who is Catholic and myself, a Jew could not wed and in this nation neither could individuals of different races until quite recently in many States.

I have been asked why do I care so deeply about either of these issues – after all, I am neither African American or gay. Simple really – all injustice frightens me. Surely the history of my people – the Jews – have taught that the serendipitous and spontaneous decisions by a majority to marginalize a group for factious reasons can become and are dangerous to the society as a whole. No peace would I find if having an insouciance toward my fellow citizens’ plight – fond of saying me/they today and you/yours tomorrow. In my memoir, Heiress Mommy … A Modern Super Woman Life!  and follow up life journey book I pray and am hopeful many will come away with a REAL sense of why justice for all is justice for each of us!

P.S. I dedicate this post to my friend David Shaw and his husband – as he feels about that marriage, I feel about my own. That is for both David and I the emotion that our mates are those people that both of us can not imagine having lived other than married to … we share the feeling of  “Oh my  – what if I had not met you my dear husband?” Now that is REAL love!!!

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2 Comments to “The Year of SCOTUS”

  1. Can’t disagree about any injustice and dehumanizing any group being dangerous.

  2. So glad that we have connected. Enjoyed the song you chose for creating this article. I always use that line whenever posting something about the odd relationship between Dick Cheney and George Bush, Jr…Pretty much because I felt it was orchestrated that way. Cheney pulling the strings on his puppet while he was busy snacking and munching on pretzels. And that is old polischticks now. Water under that falling bridge. I am with you on this one. Nicely written article too. I am always in support of everybody’s right to love whom they choose to love. So, here’s to you as I rise my glass of sweet tea with a hint of lemon towards victory. Leaving you with peace, love and all that jazz baby. Write on!. —ginger meeder

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