The Andermills
by Dorrie and Karen Andermills (Columbus, Ohio)
In January 1998, Karen Anders and Dorrie Mills began a relationship that has turned out to be a remarkable adventure.
After dating for about a year and a half, we became engaged, deciding that, if it ever became possible to have a legal connection with each other, we would. Having both grown up in the '60s and '70s, the whole idea of being able to participate in the system through which family, friends, and society as a whole recognize and honor ones committed relationship was new to us. We figured ours would be a long engagement. In fact, we wondered if we would live long enough to actually get married.
When we shared our plans with our parents, they were really pleased for us. Dorrie's dad was struggling with cancer and it was not likely he would live to see us married. We asked him if he would be willing to write some words to be read at our wedding. He gladly obliged, and two months before he died he sent us a beautiful reading that ended with the words, "Dear children, grow in love."
We were amazed that less than a year later we were able to travel to the state of Vermont, not to wed exactly, but at least to make a legal commitment through a civil union. We were thrilled. When asked if we thought we would feel any differently after being united by civil union, we said we didn't think so. We knew we loved each other and were already deeply committed to one another. We were, however, quite wrong in our assumption. As anyone who has been married knows, there is a profound difference in feeling committed and in actually taking the leap into a legal commitment. The intensification of the spiritual and emotional connection that resulted from the legal commitment was remarkable. Perhaps even more surprising, though, was what we describe as a "civic awakening". For the first time in our lives, we felt like citizens of the country to which we were born. We wondered if women and African Americans had similar experiences when voting for the first time, having finally secured that basic right. It's difficult to describe the feelings we had. We hadn't really known what we'd been missing, since we'd never experienced that particular taste of freedom. It was like a piece fitting into a puzzle that could never before be completed.
We had our civil union on the first day it was legal, July 1, 2000. Since this was new territory for our country, we had no idea what would happen. Somewhat naively, we held out hope that our home state of Ohio would embrace us as we were: a legally joined couple. It did not take long for that bubble to burst. Dorrie was uninsured, and when Karen applied for family health care benefits, our family was denied. Dorrie remained without health care insurance for another two years. Given the lack of recognition of our relationship, we realized we had better draw up whatever documents we could to protect ourselves. Wills, powers of attorney, declarations asking that the other be made our guardian if needed, and a paper asking that our bodies be released to each other in case of death. These papers cost $500; not exactly the wedding present we would have picked, but necessary for providing basic protections that come automatically as benefits of a civil marriage. We have to carry "papers" when traveling in our own country, and we can only hope they will be honored at such time as they are needed.
We wanted to share a family name, as many married couples do, so we combined "Anders" and "Mills" into Andermills. In Ohio, a woman can marry and change her name at no charge. However, we were charged over $200, and we consulted an attorney because of a case that was under review by the Ohio Supreme Court wherein a lower court had denied two women the right to combine their names. (The ruling later came that there was no legitimate reason why the two women could not change their names.)
This past July we celebrated our third anniversary by traveling to Canada to become legally married. (We call it an "upgrade.") We no longer have to explain over and over again what a civil union is. Everyone knows what it means to be married. Well, they know what it means for heterosexual couples to be married - and many erroneously assume that same-sex couples have the same rights of marriage here in America. We have to explain that we don't. Yes, we are married; however, in this country we aren't even recognized as next of kin. We have to explain that our family does not have any rights.
One woman even said to us after our civil union, "So, how many states can you get married in now?" Of course, the answer was, and still is, "None." Her surprise has been echoed time and time again by myriad people with whom we speak.
Karen's mother recently understood at a whole new level the rights she takes for granted that come with her marriage. She received her Medicare card and noticed that it had her husband's Social Security number on it. She called the Medicare office to report the error but was told this was no mistake. She hadn't paid enough into Social Security to qualify, and if she had not married her spouse she wouldn't be eligible for Medicare. She suddenly realized that her own daughter didn't have this same benefit - nor many others like it.
Over the years we have taken many pictures of our travels, family and friends. It is striking to know that in the pictures taken in Canada we have all the rights and responsibilities that come with marriage. In those taken in Vermont we have all the state rights that come with marriage. In the pictures taken with our extended families in our own state we have none of the rights of marriage. In the pictures taken at work and with our friends, we have no rights. In the pictures taken in our own home, we have no rights. There is something else striking about the pictures from our civil union and our wedding. Since we had to travel to another state and another county, our families, friends and coworkers aren't in those pictures. We couldn't get married in the city where we have lived and worked our entire lives.
Karen has been teaching children with special needs since 1980. The principal and teachers from her school threw us a shower after our civil union. Dorrie works at the American Red Cross, and her boss and co-workers threw us a grand congratulations party after our wedding. Since we would have loved to have had our family and friends with us at our ceremonies, and since they would like to honor our commitment, we plan to have a gathering for all those who are in our lives to celebrate our union as we "grow in love."
We need the protections for our family that come with civil marriage, and we are not the only ones who believe we should have those rights and protections. Our parents, our families, our friends, our neighbors, our co-workers believe we should have them too.
It would be a fine thing to be able to include the full recognition of our relationship, and full citizenship in our own country, in the remarkable adventure that is our life together.