A theme that I have noticed in the blogs that support Proposition 8 is the misconception that gay people "choose" to love someone of the same gender.  One can choose their friends; one cannot choose who they fall in love with.  Ironically, being a Catholic, or a Jew, or a believer in any religion, IS a choice.  You can CHOOSE to be a believer in something greater than yourself, or choose not to believe.  The way in which you interpret scripture is also a choice.

The other misnomer is the statement "I don't hate gay people, I just disagree with them".  When someone says "I disagree with gays", there is connotation of being poorly educated in human development.  People might disagree on who should be the next President, or what kind of dog the Obama's should get.  However, to disagree with someone being gay is as ridiculous as disagreeing with someone being African American.  Being gay is not a "life-style" anymore than being Asian, African, European, or any other ethnicity.  Being gay, is not a "way of life".  Being gay just is.  One in ten human beings "just are".  This is the way we were born.  Why would anyone "chose" to live a life of discrimination?  

Being gay is not an organized movement to get back at our parents and render them forever asking "where did [they] go wrong?".  Being gay is not a covert form of anarchy or a manifestation of a bizarre desire to seek attention when in public places.  Being gay is as natural as the color of my eyes.  Sure, I can try wearing some irritating colored contact lenses but that would not change the true color of my eyes.

My eyes were opened on the morning of November 5th, 2008.  My elation with the election of Barack Obama to the highest office in America was washed away by the stark reality that gay people in America are far from free.  "Everyone is created equal" - except for gay people.  The "American Dream" is attainable by anyone - unless they are gay.  "Let freedom ring for all of God's children" - except the gay ones.

America does not have to be divided on this issue.  Americans have a choice.  Let it be an informed choice free of hate and discrimination.  Let it be a choice supporting equality for all.

Our voice needs to be heard as much as any other minority group in the upcoming election. I get really scared when I hear, over and over again, that Senator Obama refuses to have his picture with any openly gay individual or supporter (most notably Gavin Newsroom). We as a community must band together and stand behind the person who will take her picture with anyone and stand up for everyone: Senator Hillary Clinton.

Please go to the following link: http://www.nlgja.org/newyork.htm
In March there will be a huge fundraiser with prominent members of our community in attendance. We cannot just sit by and hope for the best.
We have never been passive before - now is not the time to start.

Start emailing major LGBT organizations to get behind Senator Clinton. With her in the Whitehouse, our voices WILL be heard!

Or, the alternative, someone who wants to ammend the Constitution of the United States to be in line with "God's Standards"!

Imagine a bright young medical student with big dreams. Dreams of one day becoming an outstanding physician. Dreams of having the ability to save a life when possible. Imagine this young doctor, in the making, as having an engaging personality, a contagious charisma, and a way of connecting with others that sets him apart from others.

You watch him in his half-length lab coat, fumbling with his stethoscope, struggling to operate a reflex hammer. Somehow, though, the slip-ups seem unnoticeable, and are readily forgotten, as soon as he smiles or speaks to you.

Imagine, you have a fragile brain tumor that can be removed surgically, and if done well, will return your quality of life to better than a normal level. However, the slightest deviation of the scalpel will result in paralysis, or the inability to speak, or even possible death. The most minute error could cause a catastrophic hemorrhage and a precipitous death in the operating room - you would never make it off of the table.

Imagine yourself, caught up in the hope that this inspiring medical student exudes. Imagine yourself allowing this second year medical student, who to their credit - has previously observed about a half a dozen neurosurgical procedures as a part of their training, though has never actually held a scalpel, to perform your surgery.

Faced with a serious diagnosis, you revel in hope and the dreams of a perfect outcome. This medical student makes you believe that anything and everything is possible. You so desperately want to believe the best-case scenario that you fail to notice the medical student frantically reading his neurosurgery textbook when not in front of you.

Being the President of the United States is not brain surgery, it is much more difficult and treacherous. Lets let the "brilliant" young "medical student" Barack Obama finish his residency. The patient, America, is in too critical a state to survive an error. The patient needs the best: Hillary Clinton.

There are moments in my life that I remember in incredible detail, while other moments escape me entirely. I remember that I was shooting free throws at a basketball practice in grade 8 when I heard of the space shuttle explosion. I remember that I was eating a bowl of cereal, while watching T.V. after school, when the Gulf War started. And, over a decade later, I remember being in the cafeteria of the hospital I worked in, getting a coffee before starting my shift, on the morning a plane crashed into the World Trade Center.

I remember running back to the emergency department and joining the crowd of patients and medical staff gathered around the television in the waiting room. I remember the moment, the all-consuming moment, when a sense of duty over took fear and I knew that I had to go and help. But this letter is not about me. There is another incredibly vivid memory from the week of September 11th, 2001: Meeting Senator Hillary Clinton at Ground Zero.

The roads leading to the World Trade Center were barricaded with police officers standing guard at every corner. In the distance I could see the smoke billowing from the remains of the notably absent "Twin Towers". I was with four other young Canadians who also could not sit by and watch the news. We were overtaken by a sense of urgency to get to Ground Zero and help. We passed St. Vincent's Medical Center and the hundreds of health care workers waiting for survivors to show up.

There were people everywhere. Many were shouting slogans of support to rescue workers walking towards the carnage. Many others were posting "missing" signs for their "missing" loved ones. The closer we got the Ground Zero, the thicker the crowds became. With the smoke as our guide, we politely pushed through the masses to get to the Triage. We were so determined to get to the victims that I almost knocked over a person standing in my path. When I caught myself, I found myself face to face with Senator Hillary Clinton. That moment was, for lack of a better word, surreal.

I looked around wondering how I got so close to her. There were no cameras. There was no media. There was only a single secret service agent calmly walking beside her. His white collared shirt was undone at the neck and his black tie was loosened. Beads of sweat poured off of his head as he fumbled with his earpiece that kept falling out; it was an incredibly hot and humid day.

Our team of five stood shoulder to shoulder. I reached out my hand. There was so much that I wanted to say to her. Senator Clinton, appropriately wearing a black pantsuit, exuded strength. She was incredibly composed. Her eyes conveyed incredible courage and conviction: We will get through this! She wasn't teary. There was so much to cry about that day, that week, but Senator Clinton stood strong and among her people. I remember the disbelief of that moment, that whole day, that whole week. Although she was shorter than I realized, she was far more powerful than I ever could have imagined.

My thoughts were racing. The only words I could form were: We are Canadians. We came from Canada to help. She nodded acceptingly, looked straight into my eyes, and said thank you. She was hugging people, shaking hands, and listening. She was there when so many of her colleagues were not. Senator Hillary Clinton was present.

I find that I become emotional when I recollect meeting her. My family and friends do not understand why this Canadian is so intent on supporting Senator Clinton. But if they saw what I saw; if they experienced meeting her, the way I experienced meeting her; then maybe they would understand. There is something incredible about a politician who stands with the people that she represents, right at Ground Zero, instead of running for cover. That is implicit leadership and true solidarity.

Senator Clinton intuitively knew what to do on September 11th, 2001. Her presence that week should instill confidence in every American that she will continue to stand up for every citizen when elected President. Becoming the leader of the United States should not be something that is won; it should be something that is earned. Hillary Clinton has earned the privilege in my eyes.

There are moments in my life that I remember in incredible detail, while other moments escape me entirely. I remember that I was shooting free throws at a basketball practice in grade 8 when I heard of the space shuttle explosion. I remember that I was eating a bowl of cereal, while watching T.V. after school, when the Gulf War started. And, over a decade later, I remember being in the cafeteria of the hospital I worked in, getting a coffee before starting my shift, on the morning a plane crashed into the World Trade Center.

I remember running back to the emergency department and joining the crowd of patients and medical staff gathered around the television in the waiting room. I remember the moment, the all-consuming moment, when a sense of duty over took fear and I knew that I had to go and help. But this letter is not about me. There is another incredibly vivid memory from the week of September 11th, 2001: Meeting Senator Hillary Clinton at Ground Zero.

The roads leading to the World Trade Center were barricaded with police officers standing guard at every corner. In the distance I could see the smoke billowing from the remains of the notably absent "Twin Towers". I was with four other young Canadians who also could not sit by and watch the news. We were overtaken by a sense of urgency to get to Ground Zero and help. We passed St. Vincent's Medical Center and the hundreds of health care workers waiting for survivors to show up.

There were people everywhere. Many were shouting slogans of support to rescue workers walking towards the carnage. Many others were posting "missing" signs for their "missing" loved ones. The closer we got the Ground Zero, the thicker the crowds became. With the smoke as our guide, we politely pushed through the masses to get to the Triage. We were so determined to get to the victims that I almost knocked over a person standing in my path. When I caught myself, I found myself face to face with Senator Hillary Clinton. That moment was, for lack of a better word, surreal.

I looked around wondering how I got so close to her. There were no cameras. There was no media. There was only a single secret service agent calmly walking beside her. His white collared shirt was undone at the neck and his black tie was loosened. Beads of sweat poured off of his head as he fumbled with his earpiece that kept falling out; it was an incredibly hot and humid day.

Our team of five stood shoulder to shoulder. I reached out my hand. There was so much that I wanted to say to her. Senator Clinton, appropriately wearing a black pantsuit, exuded strength. She was incredibly composed. Her eyes conveyed incredible courage and conviction: We will get through this! She wasn't teary. There was so much to cry about that day, that week, but Senator Clinton stood strong and among her people. I remember the disbelief of that moment, that whole day, that whole week. Although she was shorter than I realized, she was far more powerful than I ever could have imagined.

My thoughts were racing. The only words I could form were: We are Canadians. We came from Canada to help. She nodded acceptingly, looked straight into my eyes, and said thank you. She was hugging people, shaking hands, and listening. She was there when so many of her colleagues were not. Senator Hillary Clinton was present.

I find that I become emotional when I recollect meeting her. My family and friends do not understand why this Canadian is so intent on supporting Senator Clinton. But if they saw what I saw; if they experienced meeting her, the way I experienced meeting her; then maybe they would understand. There is something incredible about a politician who stands with the people that she represents, right at Ground Zero, instead of running for cover. That is implicit leadership and true solidarity.

Senator Clinton intuitively knew what to do on September 11th, 2001. Her presence that week should instill confidence in every American that she will continue to stand up for every citizen when elected President. Becoming the leader of the United States should not be something that is won; it should be something that is earned. Hillary Clinton has earned the privilege in my eyes.

I have been sitting at home, going about my day, reflecting on the world, this Tuesday.

It was a Tuesday when thousands of people lost their lives as a result of the September 11th, 2001 terrorist attacks on America. I cannot think of Tuesday without remembering the sickening acidic smoke, billowing out of what once was the World Trade Center the smell of death.

In addition to being Super Tuesday, today is also Fat Tuesday the last day of Mardis Gras. Since Katrina, I cannot think of Mardis Gras without having a heavy heart from the destruction in New Orleans and the continued agonizing progress in restoring greatness to what once was a beautiful place.

So when you go out to cast your vote today, Tuesday, I hope you quietly consider where America is on its journey in overcoming adversity, on its journey towards providing prosperity for all, on its journey towards regaining its standing in the world, and on its journey towards providing health care for everyone. Are you happy with where America is this Tuesday? Do you want change?

I want change. I want change more than anything. However, voting for change alone is like throwing a coin in a fountain. There is a splash. Then a few ripples follow. Slowly, your coin sinks to the bottom, joining all of the other wishes for something better. I dont want my vote, my coin, to sink to the bottom.

I want change to translate into paying me what I am worth, keeping my family safe, leaving an earth in better condition for my children. I want change to mean not being terrified of getting sick because healthcare should be a right for everyone, not just for those who can afford it. I want change to translate into equal rights for everyone regardless of gender, race, or choice of partner. I want change to be so much more than a concept I want change to become a reality. I want my wish to come true.

If we do not vote for someone with courage, strength, and experience, like Senator Hillary Clinton, we are only throwing coins in a fountain.

Dear Senator Clinton:
I have been watching the primaries with great interest and am writing this letter in hopes that it might help your campaign. To introduce myself, I am a Canadian physician who has no voting ability when it comes to American elections. I have absolutely nothing to gain by testifying about your natural ability to lead the U.S. out of darkness.

I met you at Ground Zero on September 12th, 2001. In fact, my medical team of five Canadians literally bumped into you in our haste to make it to Stuyvesant High School where the casualties of the WTC terrorist attacks were accumulating. When I caught my balance amidst the crowd of people, I realized that it was you standing in front of me. I will never forget that moment. You were very composed with only a single secret service agent beside you, completely camouflaged as an ordinary citizen. When my group realized who you were, we stood still. I was speechless and already overwhelmed by the chaos around us. The only words that I could manage to form were: We are Canadians. We came from Canada to help.

In fact, because the current president is so afraid of getting assassinated _ that is what the police told us on September 15th, 2001 - the medical triage had to shut down for _security reasons in preparation for his arrival on Friday, and might I add three whole days after the attacks. At the time, our triage was taking care of between 50 to 70 patients an hour. We had over 200 medical volunteers working around the clock to help. As far as we know, all of our patients were injured volunteers. We would patch up whomever we could and help them get back to the fevered search for potential life.

The stories of injured fire fighters and other rescue workers obsessed about getting stitched up, or having their eyes flushed from the acidic smoke, as quickly as possible in order to continue looking for a loved one, are too numerous to recount. However, when President Bush came to Ground Zero, the Triage was closed down and we all were forced home.

Six years later, you helped me again - though this time not in person. Somehow, I still remain ashamed that I ever got sick after helping. My lungs have never been the same as when I crossed the finish line at the Ironman Canada ultra distance triathlon on August 26th. 2001. Because of you, Senator Clinton, thousands of WTC volunteers have free medical care for their rescue related illnesses. I was absolutely astonished when American volunteers that I still keep in touch with told me that I could also get help despite being a Canadian. To be honest, I refused any assistance for several years. For one, I am not bitter and choose not to define my life by September 11th. Even if I knew that I would get as sick as I have, I would help again. My quality of life compared to many of the great people that I met during that dark week six years ago is actually pretty awesome. I remain grateful for what I have and not bitter about what I do not.

Regardless, from the moment that I met you in person, and from the many moments I have been grateful for your continuing to stand up for the thousands who later became sick and injured from Ground Zero, I have thought of you as a true hero.

California may have the "Terminator", America has you.

In closing, although the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan make me sick with despair, after what you saw first hand on September 11th, 2001, I don't blame you for taking the greatest measure available at the time to keep America safe. You did the best you could, with what you had, at the time.

Senator Obama, or any of your rivals for that matter, were never at Ground Zero. How can they truly second-guess your decision?

I look forward to cheering for you all the way to the finish line - when you are sworn in officially as President of the United States.