c. 2005 Religion News Service

PORTLAND, Ore. _ Along with nearly 3,000 other couples, Cristina Caravaca, 33, and Sandra Naranjo, 32, seized marriage the moment Multnomah County offered it to them a little more than a year ago.

They dashed to the county building here March 2. They stood third in line all night. They exchanged vows on the sidewalk as morning passers-by held umbrellas over their heads and police fended off protesters, including a man waving a sign that said “Repent Pervert.”

The Lake Oswego couple rushed to marry before anyone could stop them. And now they’re prepared to fight for what they gained, even though Oregon voters approved a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage.

“I am married, and it’s valid right now, and I’m going to use it, and I’m going to say it and be it and not let Measure 36 put me back in the closet,” Naranjo says.

Still, Multnomah County same-sex marriages face a fragile and uncertain future. They are not recognized by the federal government, remain in legal limbo in Oregon and could be nullified by an upcoming decision of the Oregon Supreme Court.

Opinions vary on whether the rush to marry gay couples in Portland, San Francisco and other cities early last year produced a political backlash or a victory for same-sex marriage.

Tim Nashif, political director for the Defense of Marriage Coalition and sponsor of Measure 36, says approval of his measure and similar initiatives in 10 other states on Nov. 2 set back gay activists.

They show that “the people of America and Oregon do not want same-sex marriage,” he says. “I don’t think public opinion has changed at all.”

Americans have become more solidified against same-sex marriage and more willing to support measures to prohibit it, says the Rev. Louis Sheldon, chairman of the Traditional Values Coalition, a Christian group based in Washington, D.C. Seventeen states are considering constitutional amendments to ban same-sex marriage.

“We will continue to take it on the chin with these marriage amendments,” says Matt Foreman, executive director of the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, also in Washington. “But ultimately, history is going to judge them mean-spirited, divisive and prejudiced.”

The gay rights movement saw victories that, on balance, advanced the push for same-sex marriage, Foreman says. The flurry of gay marriages a year ago forced people to confront the issue, which eventually will lead to better understanding and broader support, he says.

Evan Wolfson, executive director of Freedom to Marry, a New York group, notes that same-sex couples now can marry legally in Massachusetts and most parts of Canada. What’s more, five state legislatures are weighing civil unions or domestic partnerships for gay couples, 15 face proposals to ban discrimination against gays, and California, Maine and Connecticut are considering legislation to legalize same-sex marriage.

“Of course the movement is further ahead now then a year ago, because we now have marriages; we now have couples getting legally married on U.S. soil,” Wolfson says. “This wasn’t true a year ago in the U.S., and it wasn’t true a few years ago in the rest of the world.”

It became true in Portland on March 3, 2004, when the Multnomah County Board of Commissioners _ deliberating secretly and without the knowledge of one of its own members _ followed San Francisco’s lead and directed county officials to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples. The county, arguing that denying marriage to gay couples violated their constitutional rights, issued licenses through April 20, when a lawsuit forced it to stop.

The commissioners were criticized for abruptly issuing licenses without public debate.

“We could have done the process better,” says Multnomah County Chairwoman Diane Linn. But, she adds, extending marriage licenses to gay couples was “an important step for this community.”

Most of the 2,968 gay couples who married in Portland had been together for years. They were, on average, 42 years old. Two-thirds of the couples were women, and one-third were from out of state.

In random interviews, couples say marriage did not bring dramatic or practical changes in their day-to-day lives. Because the legality of their marriages remains unclear, most do not qualify for spousal health insurance, tax breaks or other legal benefits of marriage.

But some say marriage brought subtle shifts in the way others look at them and in how they look at themselves. Many couples say they were stunned by how emotional their weddings were.

“It took me some time to figure out that it wasn’t just that people were getting married, but people were experiencing equality, and it was transformative,” says Roey Thorpe, executive director of Basic Rights Oregon, a gay rights group and one of the people who married a year ago. “It was about status _ equal status _ and people feeling like they were equal in the eyes of their community. … It was profound.”

Caravaca and Naranjo, the Lake Oswego couple, met while working as nannies in Greenwich, Conn. They ventured to Oregon in 1996 in a “Jeep with $700, a diaper box full of CDs and a change of clothes,” Caravaca says. A year later, they adopted their daughter Alex, now 10.

Marriage hasn’t changed their busy lives. Naranjo is finishing her studies this spring at Lewis & Clark Law School, and Caravaca commutes each week to Eugene, where she is pursuing a master’s degree in museum studies at the University of Oregon.

But “the way our family and friends see us has changed,” says Naranjo, daughter of Colombian immigrants. “The entire family is coming for my law school graduation. I believe it has a little to do with law school, but has more to do with Cris and I being permanent now and a family.”

Their daughter says the marriage has made a difference for her, too.

“I feel safer,” Alex says. “If something were to happen to one of them, and if they weren’t married, I could be taken away. When they are married, that won’t happen.”

For Chris Bidwell, 41, manager for an Internet stock brokerage, the value of marriage snapped into focus on May 6, the day David Bocci, 43, his spouse, suffered a stroke. Because they were married, Bidwell’s signature was accepted by doctors seeking approval to treat Bocci with an emergency clot-busting procedure. Bocci is now back at work as a graphic arts manager.

Marriage has brought less dramatic changes, too.

“David’s sister calls me her brother-in-law,” says Bidwell, who has been with Bocci for 16 years. “That may sound small, but, in essence, it shows you are part of the family with a very simple statement.”

The Oregon Supreme Court is expected to rule within weeks whether the Multnomah County marriages are legal. It also may rule on whether same-sex couples are entitled under Oregon’s Constitution to some form of civil union, a government pact that would give them the many legal benefits of marriage.

Some lawmakers are waiting for the court ruling to introduce proposals for a civil union law. They have already introduced several bills to prohibit discrimination against gays. Gov. Ted Kulongoski has called on the Legislature to rise to Oregon’s “great moral challenge” and extend civil rights protections to gays.

But opponents are pushing back.

Anti-discrimination bills that would make it illegal to deny a job, apartment or table at a restaurant to gays are drawing strong opposition from groups that argue there’s no need for such laws. State Sen. Gary George is sponsoring a bill, at the request of the Christian Coalition, to bar same-sex substitutes for marriage, including civil unions.

Despite what might happen in coming weeks, Caravaca and Naranjo expect their marriage will prevail.

“I have no doubt that when I’m an old woman, I’ll be an old married woman,” Naranjo says. “It is going to happen, and I will see it happen.”

MO END GRAVES

(Bill Graves is a staff writer for The Oregonian of Portland, Ore. Oregonian staff writer Michelle Cole contributed to this report.)