Lately friends and new acquaintances who emigrated to Vermont in the last decade have been asking me "What was it like back in the days of the civil union debate?" - as if I am an elderly grandparent telling my grandkids about a bygone war or the Great Depression.  In many ways, the debate over civil unions was Vermont's own civil war.  The State was divided not by physical boundaries, but ideological ones.  There was no negotiation, no compromising, and no indecision.  Vermonters were either in favor of granting gay and lesbian couples the opportunity to join together legally or they were totally opposed to it. 

In 1999, three Vermont couples had sued the State of Vermont for the right to marry.  Each couple had gone to its local town clerk and requested a marriage license and each time the town clerk had denied the couple the license, because the couple was of the same sex.  Baker vs. Vermont was ultimately argued in front of the Vermont Supreme Court.  Rather than granting or denying the couples the right to marry, the Court gave the Legislature the responsibility of either granting marriage to same-sex couples or devising for them some comparable institution.   

When the House Judiciary Committee chairman Tom Little named the legislation "civil unions" instead of civil marriage, many of us in the gay and ally community were deeply disappointed.  After examination, it was clear that we were going to have to compromise.  It was either accept civil unions or walk away from the table empty handed.   

But though we accepted a compromise, we weren't content and our struggle was not over. We started putting our hearts into the movement.  We told our personal stories.  We tabled at state fairs.  We volunteered to help friendly legislators with their campaigns.  We became more and more visible, and in the process, we let our families, friends, and neighbors know that we are Vermonters, too.  We realized that there was nothing to be afraid of: we just wanted to be treated with the same respect and have the same rights as our heterosexual counterparts.

For a non-violent clash of ideals, the debate over civil unions was brutal.  Neighbors, friends, and family members turned against one another.  Hateful words and actions and threats of violence were not uncommon.  I got into the habit of checking the tires on my car to make sure they were not slashed when I left Montpelier after public hearings.  Driving from the liberal enclave of Burlington to my hometown of Fairlee I would tape over my "Vermonters for Civil Unions" and rainbow bumper stickers because I didn't feel safe driving alone on the rural roads.  When it came time for the Vermont House and Senate to vote on the legislation, the atmosphere in the state had reach fever pitch. 

In the end, our efforts paid off.  The majority of the legislature voted in favor of granting civil unions to same-sex couples.  Then-Gov. Howard Dean signed the bill into law behind closed doors so as to not throw more salt on the wound.  On July 1, 2000, the civil union law took effect.  We knew we had made history.  It wasn't marriage, but we got our foot in the door. 

For many gay and lesbian Vermonters in my generation, the civil union debate presented us with our first opportunity to experience a civil rights struggle first-hand.  We were born years after the Stonewall riots.  We had heard of Harvey Milk but didn't understand why being openly gay and being an elected official was such a big deal.  Yet we were starting to fall in love and thinking about getting married one day - and "one day" started being in the not-so-distant future.  The fight for marriage equality hit home.  We wanted to go to our friends' weddings and catch the bouquet - even if it was only figuratively. 

What a difference a decade makes.  In the ten years since the civil union debate, the Vermont Freedom to Marry Task Force has been diligently working toward full marriage rights for gay and lesbian couples.  Headed by Beth Robinson, one of the lawyers who argued Baker, the Task Force continued to educate the public and the legislature about why civil unions fall short of marriage both in practice and in name.  When my partner Hillary and I had our civil union in August of 2008, we had to explain to our friends from out-of-state what a civil union is and how it differs from a marriage.  In Vermont, Hillary is considered my spouse and we have many of the same rights as married heterosexual couples.  We do have to file separate federal income tax forms and outside of Vermont there is no guarantee that we will be allowed hospital visitation rights and the ability to make medical decisions for one another if we cannot speak for ourselves.   

This time around the opposition was quieter, fewer in number, and very civil.  At the public hearing I was even laughing and joking with the gentleman sitting next to me from the "God's Plan: One Woman, One Man" contingency.  We may have opposing views on marriage, but we recognize each others' common humanity.  I was fortunate to be able to attend the Senate and the House votes, as well as the House vote to override the Governor's veto of the civil marriage legislation.  It was with great joy that I listened to three roll calls that confirmed my right to marry the love of my life.   

I wonder when what we have done will sink in.  It is wonderful that other states have granted same-sex couples the right to marry.  It was even more special that Vermont was able to pass the legislation without a court-ordered mandate.  This was our citizen legislature.  Vermonters elected by Vermonters.  We told our stories.  They listened.  We never gave up and we won't give up until all 50 states and the federal government grant civil marriage to gay and lesbian citizens.  As Margaret Mead famously said "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world.  Indeed it is the only thing that ever has."