Debating Proposition 8--Should California eliminate marriage for same-sex couples?

Two weeks ago, when I was d

Carpooling home after soccer practice, we approached an intersection where 15 or so people were standing on all four corners waving “Yes on 8” signs. “What does ‘Yes on 8’ mean?” asked my 8-year-old daughter, Francesca.

I hesitated. I needed to figure out an answer in a way that would be sensitive to her teammate, who I’ll call Amy, in the back seat. I’ve dropped the girl off many times before, and her house has a huge “Yes on 8” banner visible from the street.

Proposition 8, I said, would change the state Constitution so only certain people could get married in California. I said it in a matter-of-fact way, and I hoped that we would get to Amy’s house before the inevitable follow-up questions started. But the light at the intersection had turned red. “What do you mean by certain people?” my daughter asked.

Before I could answer, Amy spoke up. “That means girls marrying girls and boys marrying boys.” It had never occurred to my daughter, or her 5-year-old twin brother and sister who also were in the car, that this was a possibility. Their response was to giggle.

Over the next several days, I followed Francesca’s conversations with her friends with great interest. Walking home from school, she pointed out a “Yes on 8” sign on someone’s lawn and told her classmate that she was “voting” no on 8 because it would keep some people from getting married. Her classmate agreed, and introduced a new term, “gay people.”

Francesca later told me that she’d asked everyone on her soccer team how she would vote. My burgeoning pollster reported a majority favoring Proposition 8. But what amazed me was that every girl -- none of them older than 10 -- could articulate a position on the ballot measure. Other parents have recounted similar observations: This one ballot measure has become the topic of conversation among their children. My eighth-grader reports brisk politicking on his middle school campus, and it has not been unusual in our part of Orange County to see teens alongside their activist parents at the intersections waving pro- and con- Proposition 8 signs.

Out of respect to Amy’s parents and their beliefs -- they belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints -- I had not expressed my opposition to Proposition 8 in front of their daughter. Francesca, however, had no such inhibitions. When Amy said her family would have to leave their church if they voted against Proposition 8, Francesca replied, “In our church, we can vote the way we want to.” When it was Amy’s mom’s turn to deliver the girls to soccer practice recently, Francesca also apparently explained that our family was against Proposition 8 because “people should be able to do what they want in California.”

After again picking up my kids from their soccer and swim practices on a recent evening, I arrived home to find an election mailer from ProtectMarriage.com in my mailbox. In big bold letters it proclaimed that “teaching about ‘gay marriage’ will happen in our public schools unless we vote yes on Proposition 8.”

The irony is that gay marriage has become the No. 1 topic of discussion on school playgrounds and sports practice fields precisely because of Proposition 8. The political battle has done far and away more to raise awareness of same-sex marriage among schoolchildren than the state Supreme Court’s ruling in May ever would have. This last month has been a giant teachable moment on gay marriage -- which is probably not what Proposition 8’s backers intended.