"If you say you are gay in public you will be shot in the head." My bittersweet anniversary. [View all]

[Teacher of the Year]

Yesterday was my 10th wedding anniversary. My wedding was very bitter. It was not very sweet.

In 2014 I was named the Oregon State Teacher of the Year.

With that came an order from my supervisor. She told me if I said I was gay in public I would be "shot in the head." She then told me I would be fired if I said it publicly. I was ordered to not speak any words in public without her permission. I was ordered not to write any words without written permission. I was not allowed to talk to any person she did not approve of. I was ordered to bring all mail from home for her to read my personal correspondences. I stopped writing on DU because of this. It was like living in the book 1984.

On May first of 2014 I received White House Honors. I had my portrait taken with President Obama. I was in a bit of a daze as I watched the other Teachers of the Year as they moved through the most important day of their lives. My day was different. If the press ran a picture of me and my soon-to -be-husband, I would probably be fired. If I said anything about being gay I would probably be fired. Actually, if I said anything, I would be fired because I did not have permission to speak.

After the ceremony we were introduced to the international press that covered the White House. We were asked if we wanted to say anything about our students. I watched as other teachers spoke so easily about their lives and work. I was lost in thoughts of the past. I thought of my best friend at 15, Mark. I thought of the last time I saw him, when he came out to me and then drove away on his motorcycle. He killed himself that weekend. I thought, "What if Mark had seen a gay teacher? What if by seeing that teacher he knew he was not alone?"

As I stood on the White House steps, it was Mark I was seeing, not the day in front of me. I stepped to the microphone and made, what was to be, my declaration of war with my school district. "As one of the first openly gay Teachers of the Year..." I began, and then I discussed how anti-gay laws are hurting LGBTQ youth and it needed to stop.

On the steps of the White House I fired my first shot but the the next month would be a battle.

On May 17, 2014, gay marriage became legal in Oregon. Against my district's orders, I wrote on Facebook, "I'm getting married today." We headed downtown to City Hall to get our license. The press was there waiting for us and they followed my husband and I through the entire day. At our ceremony there were more tv cameras than guests. We were promised a private room but the press pushed their way in and refused to leave. The venue told us we would either have to get married in front of the cameras or we would have to go somewhere else to get married.

My shy husband, traumatized by all the cameras, looked at me and said, "I have waited a long time to marry you." He made the decision and as we started our vows the cameras started rolling. We were married on live tv. The Oregonian ran 45 pictures on their website.

While my husband and I slept the photos went round the world. Headlines like "Oregon Teacher of the Year marries his long-term partner" bounced around the internet. Some people were enraged. Some of those people I worked for.

My vows violated my school district's orders. I spoke in public without their permission. I kissed my husband, at my wedding, on live tv. A kiss heard round the world. I would soon be fired. The death threats would come after. But for a day, 10 years ago, I was a newlywed with a ring on my finger. And despite the difficulties of the day, we rested easy knowing that there would be young LGBTQ people who would see the pictures and the videos and they would see a possible future for themselves. Gay people can be professionals. They can be teachers. They can be Teacher of the Year with a handsome husband on their arm.

I wish my friend Mark could have seen us. His life would have been...

Well, I was going to say more but that sums it up. His life would have been.