Being abroad last semester, I found it difficult to keep tabs on everything happening back at Tufts. Yet from what I’ve gathered from friends and a few clicks on the Daily and Roundtable web pages, it seems that pretty much everyone was confused by what exactly went on with Referenda 3 and 4. As last semester’s Public Editor, Shabazz Stuart, pointed out in his April 9th column, the media is the key link between the political class and the people whom they serve. He offered a wake-up call to campus media to use their weight to inform policy. Just as Tufts publications ought to reflect public opinion to policy makers, they ought also to disseminate, clarify, and investigate policy proposals. In order for democracy to work, people need to make informed decisions. At Tufts, people become informed by reading any one of our daily, weekly, and bi-weekly publications. Yet the referenda outcomes of last year’s presidential ballot and this year’s vote sent a clear message to all members of the Media Advocacy Board: we’ve got some work to do.

The changes to the Tufts Community Union Senate proposed by Referenda 3 and 4 were no light matter, yet I sincerely doubt that even half of the student population had a firm grasp on what exactly they stood for. Unlike many administration-based campus programs dealing with diversity, the referenda were written and sponsored directly by students who took their own initiative. In the pre-referenda system, four Community Reps, each elected by the Association of Latin American Students (ALAS), the Asian Student Union (ASU), the Pan-African Alliance (PAA), and the Queer Straight Alliance (QSA), had a ‘place at the table’ of Senate meetings but were unable to vote on the substantive issue of money allocation, and could not be appointed to the Executive Board. Referendum 3 proposed a major change to this system: Community Reps would be elected by the entire Tufts population and accordingly would receive voting and appointment rights, including to Allocations Board and Executive Board. On the other hand, Referendum 4 supported the status quo on this issue, maintaining Community Reps as declawed Senators but adding a new “Diversity and Community Affairs” position to represent their collective interests (Ref. 3 also had this provision). Tufts students were given the option of re-affirming the old system or welcoming a new one. The gist of the text was simple: you either wanted to give Community Reps full voting power, or you didn’t.

Yet both questions passed. Fast forward a few months to this semester. The runoff between these same two proposals resulted in Referendum 3 passing by a single vote with a mere 516 supporters, hardly a campus mandate, leaving room for confusion and calls for re-votes. On an issue so decisive, how could both of these murky outcomes be possible? The answer lies in how Tufts media treated the issue.

In truth, Tufts students could have visited the ECOM website and seen the text of the referenda themselves. But considering how busy we all complain about being and the haste with which we fill out the WebCenter form, I don’t think this is a reasonable expectation. Campus media should have included this on their agenda weeks before the election. Instead, Tufts students were left mostly ignorant, confused, or complacent, as indicated by the 22% voter turnout rate. I give credit to the Daily for improving their news coverage over last semester’s coverage, yet it just wasn’t enough. In fact, the Daily’s editorial encouraging students to abstain and send Senate back to the drawing board seemed an easy way out of deep coverage and conversation. Other publications weren’t much better: The Primary Source and Roundtable gave readers hardly more than a page of opinion, while the Observer remained silent on the issue. To all Media Advocacy Board members, I say this: referenda don’t write themselves. Where were the interviews with the people who wrote them? Where was the analysis of potential results from the passage of either Referendum? Where was the timeline of ECOM’s managing of the situation? Where was the commentary on other colleges that have similar systems? In short, did we live up to our obligation to be a conduit between government and people, media and readership?

This year’s election had the potential to be productive and thought provoking, a test of Media’s ability to get to the heart of the issue. Instead, campus media failed to generate campus wide discussion or engage the readership, relegating the referenda to a marginal issue of Senators and Group of Six leadership. Think back to Prop 8 in California. Or Question 2 on marijuana in Massachusetts. Referenda matter and I speak to both the MAB and the readership when I say that moving forward we should start treating them as such.

When you abstain from eating meat, you don't eat meat. When you abstain from working, you don't work. And when you abstain from voting, you don't vote.

But in my time observing student government at Tufts, I have encountered an alternate definition, where abstaining from voting is called a vote. And I don't understand it.

The trouble stems from referenda, which either can force the Tufts Community Union (TCU) Senate to take action or can change student government's constitution. Either way, it is important, which is why it is up the student body to decide whether a referendum should pass.

A majority vote in favor passes a resolution. By itself, this could lead to votes held in secret, where only supporters know when to vote. To deter this, the TCU Constitution contains the minimum-vote clause, mandating that at least a quarter of the student body must vote on the referendum for the outcome to be valid. Effectively, the referendum's sponsors have to convince students to vote affirmatively for what the sponsors propose. Referendum proponents cannot just sit back and let a small number of people trump a smaller number of people who would have publicly opposed the referendum if they had prior notice.

This is where the definition of “abstain” comes in. If you choose not to vote yes or no, you can select “Abstain” on the ballot, clearly indicating that you do not wish to vote on the referendum. (Sometimes, you can also skip the question without touching anything, but this isn't always an option). But under some interpretations, “Abstain” is a choice, and therefore a vote, even though your “vote” was to abstain from voting.

This becomes a problem during TCU presidential election time, when well over a quarter of the student body casts a ballot. This past year, nearly 48 percent of students registered a vote for Brandon Rattiner, Chas Morrison or Samia Zahran. So by categorizing “abstain” as a vote, any referendum presented on that presidential ballot would need only a majority to pass. There is no safeguard against a poorly advertised referendum. Opponents lose the ability to organize a “vote no” drive.

Because of this, the TCU Constitution was almost changed in April 2008. In this instance, a referendum was placed on the presidential ballot with no advanced notice to students. (It would have been a controversial referendum, too) In 2008, there were multiple problems with the vote, as well as a separate procedural problem, so the Committee on Student Life (CSL) nullified the vote. However, the referendum demonstrated that there is no true defense against a poorly announced referendum. The minimum-vote clause is our only protection.

If “Abstain” is considered a vote, referendum sponsors do not have to demonstrate why the referendum is beneficial. Instead, the burden of proof is on those who oppose the referendum to support the status quo. This system is highly problematic. For example, if I proposed eliminating Senate elections, instead adopting Brown University's model where all students can join student government via petition, should my idea be implemented simply due to a lack of well-organized opposition? Shouldn't I instead have to prove to the student body why my idea is worthwhile?

“Abstain” means to not act. This definition is supported by respected parliamentary procedure guide Robert's Rules of Order and by the dictionary. Thus, the minimum-vote can only be satisfied by affirmative or negative votes. There is no way, short of changing the TCU Constitution, for this to be otherwise.

The Elections Commission (ECOM) recently updated its bylaws to mandate that referenda be announced in advance, which is a positive step toward better student awareness of referenda. But bylaws can be changed at any time. Just a couple of years ago, a previous ECOM decided to not disclose vote counts for referenda, a decision which was thankfully reversed in a recent bylaw update.

And so it is the minimum-vote clause, the 25 percent of students who must vote on a referendum, on which we ultimately rest our security. Let abstentions take their rightful place and we ensure that only the student body can change the TCU Constitution.

Boston likes to think of itself as a progressive, tolerant city that values education, excellent health care and social justice. To a certain extent, this is true. Bostonians may hold seemingly compatible beliefs, yet when these values collide, as they have over Boston Universityís construction of a BioSafety Level 4 laboratory, it becomes evident that Boston is not quite the city on the hill many believe it to be. B.U.ís new BioLab in Roxbury is the latest instance of a morality clash between higher education and the desire for social justice of a community consistently trampled upon by the powers that be.

In September 2003, the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Disease selected Boston as the site of a new research complex containing Biosafety Level 2, 3 and 4 laboratories. The lab is designed to hold dangerous pathogens such as tularemia, anthrax, and the Ebola viruses, many of which can be spread through the air. These viruses would be transported through Roxbury, one of Bostonís poorest and most densely populated areas; more than 25,000 people live within a mile radius of the lab. Understandably, the local residents have been hesitant to allow this potential biohazard into their neighborhood.

Some claim that it is alarmist to oppose the creation of this lab. After all, it is unlikely that these viruses would ever escape and become a major public health hazard. However, community members question why risks should be taken at all. The Boston Biolab is the only Level 4 laboratory in an urban area, which also is one of the most visited and populated northeastern cities. The Massachusetts Nurses Association contends that ìmany of the agents could be used in biowarfare and bioterrorism. An agent that escaped containment would pose a severe threat to public health and the environment and could cause a public health crisis.î Since Boston University received $128 million from the Bush Administrationís Defense Department for this project, one can assume much of the research would involve the creation and testing of biological weapons. As a result, the lab could become a high risk of being a terrorist target.

Mistakes do happen. Humans are flawed. In May 2004, three researchers were exposed to tularemia in one of B.U.ís existing labs. Though Mayor Menino and B.U. were aware of this security breach, it was not until November 2004 that B.U. reported the case to the authorities. In October 2009, a B.U. grad student developed a bacterial infection after studying dangerous meningitis bacteria; recognizing that this infection could have been caused by his work with the dangerous bacteria, the student and his supervisor contacted health officials immediately. With regards to terrorist threats, one must remember that the anthrax attacks of 2001 were most likely carried out by Bruce Edwards Ivins, a government biodefense scientist, using anthrax cultured in a United States government research facility. If one is looking at this lab from a harm-reduction perspective, it seems that the construction of the lab in an urban area is a poor idea because the lab could alternatively be located in a sparsely populated area without major inconvenience or loss of productivity.

In a social justice context, the BioLab sends a negative message to minority communities across the state. Roxbury is a poor community of color and already has its share of environmental and public health problems. Host to multiple Superfund biohazard sites Roxbury also is the location for many of Bostonís trash transfer stations. Unwilling to endure further hazards, the surrounding community has been vocal in its opposition to the labís construction since before it even began: the community has lobbied and rallied against the complex. The governments of Boston, Massachusetts and the United States as well as Boston University disregarded the communityís concerns and proceeded to build. One wonders whether it would have been as easy to ignore local protest if the lab was built in affluent Wellesley instead.

Though the lab was scheduled to be opened by 2005, the intense community opposition has delayed the labís operation until at least 2010. This is seen as a victory for those in pursuit of social justice, yet the war may still be lost. Despite the success of community organization, the amount of money invested in the lab seems to ensure its ultimate opening. The security procedures and mechanisms for the research complex will certainly be strong. Regardless, no amount of security will ease the worries of locals or erase the stain the lab has made on Bostonian social justice. The people speak while the ivory tower and Big Brother turn the other cheek.

The death of Sen. Ted Kennedy (D-MA) immediately turned the nation’s collective thought to the idea of the “Kennedy legacy.” The concept of such a legacy is, at the very least, a misnomer. First of all, there are still Kennedys involved in public life. More to the point, though, when the “Kennedy legacy” is discussed, it is, more than anything, a masked call for national introspection to raise awareness of the challenges that we face, and an examination of the sort of leadership and solutions we will need to meet them. When that conversation arises, we often do as one of the Kennedy titans would have. Sen. Kennedy’s death called us once more to look to that legacy for inspiration, but Massachusetts political leadership took the easy way out.

In 2004, the General Court amended the standing Senate vacancy law to remove the governor’s power to appoint a temporary successor, leaving instead a five-month gap between the vacancy and a special election to fill the seat. However, Ted Kennedy gave us advice earlier this year, foreseeing the untimely demise which came this past August. In a letter to Gov. Deval Patrick (D-MA) and prominent legislative leaders, Kennedy deplored the possibility of leaving Massachusetts half-represented in the Senate and recommended amending the 2004 statute to return appointment power to the governor. Opponents of the 2004 change alleged then that it was nothing more than a partisan move to ensure that then-Gov. Mitt Romney (R-MA) would not be able to make a Republican appointment should Sen. John Kerry (D-MA) have won the presidency, and opposed Kennedy’s plan, seeing it as a hypocritical Democratic power grab.

As to whether or not Kennedy’s solution was a suitable one, I make no judgment. What we can admire is the late senator’s unabashed willingness to change the system and unapologetically try to ensure “the continuity of representation for Massachusetts should a Senate vacancy occur.” It is true that Senator Kennedy expressed what he wanted – representation – but, as much as his friendships crossed partisan lines, so too did his willingness to engage in the practice of legislation.  We should have let Kennedy’s actions speak, and the General Court should have found a compromise. Instead, Beacon Hill Democrats forced through a bill in September 2009 which undid the legislature’s actions of 2004, allowing Gov. Patrick to appoint, with no strings attached, now-Sen. Paul Kirk, a longtime Kennedy friend and aide.

A myriad of plausible compromises which would have allowed Democrats to maintain some political and moral high ground existed. One such compromise includes allowing gubernatorial appointments now and in the future – with the consent of a supermajority of the legislature. Changing the process itself would allow this debate to be framed as something more than a partisan power grab. Another possibility would have been to allow Patrick to make an appointment – with the consent of leaders of both the Democratic and Republican parties. This would require a bipartisan, good faith effort to do nothing more than ensure the continuity of representation for the Commonwealth. A third solution that comes to mind was used with some success in Wyoming in 2007 to fill the seat of former Sen. Craig Thomas (R-WY), now occupied by Republican Sen. John Barrasso. It allows the party that held the seat prior to the vacancy to submit three names to the governor, of which one must be chosen for the temporary appointment. If the Republicans should someday gain a seat in Massachusetts, this policy would apply equally to them.

These are only a few of the possible solutions at the disposal of Massachusetts legislators. Most assuredly, more legally brilliant minds than my own inhabit the halls of the State House, but does the political will exist? Senator Kennedy’s ability to write and vote for bills that were the products of compromise was forged by decades of conservative – not even necessarily Republican – control of the Senate. Democratic Massachusetts legislators generally revel in the comparative luxury of their safe seats and even safer control of the House of Representatives and Senate. When a difficult political question like this one threatens their security in a real way, a compromise not only makes ethical sense, it makes political sense and reminds the voters that the Legislature can be entrusted to their party.

A healthy debate has already started for the special election set to take place this January. Republican and Democratic candidates are both appealing, and the race is still open for any and all comers to forge a path to victory. This is a race which could produce a successor worthy of Ted Kennedy’s seat. Though Kennedy’s seat has already been filled until January, the process for filling vacancies still needs change, and it’s not too late to bring it. Let us, as a Commonwealth, take up that “fallen standard” that Ted once took up himself, and ascribe to Kennedy’s legacy an appointment process worthy of this Commonwealth, enacting it just as brilliantly and wisely as he would have.

Massachusetts has long been a pioneer of political ideas and has served as a testing lab for many new policies.  However, our state has also been a leader in government corruption.  After all, gerrymandering was named after Massachusetts' first governor Elbridge Gerry because of his unusual redistricting practices. And within Massachusetts' history of corrupt politics, the office of Speaker of the Massachusetts House of Representatives is, quite possibly, the position with the worst track record.

Our state's past three speakers have had to resign under scandal, and, in total, five have resigned because of ethical issues. Speaker Finneran, who served from 1996-2004, used redistricting to punish his critics, and committed obstruction of justice in the investigation of the redistricting.  Despite the fact that he pled guilty, he escaped jail time, and was merely barred from political office for five years, given a $25,000 fine, and put on 18 months of unsupervised probation.  Later, his pension was revoked by the state Supreme Judicial Court. Interestingly, after leaving the legislature, Finneran secured a position in a non-profit that also has a bad track record: as the president of the Massachusetts Biotechnology Council.  Here, he received a salary of $416,000 a year (privately paid), in addition to his state pension for most of his time as president.  He later resigned in the face of criminal charges of obstruction of justice in the investigation of his redistricting practices.

Recently, Salvatore DiMasi, Speaker of the House until February, had to step down after investigators found that lobbyists did favors for his personal accountant and helped pay some of his family members' legal debts. Ironically, this is entirely legal, since Massachusetts ethics laws, supposedly the strictest in the nation, only limit lobbyists from giving money directly to politicians. Understandably, this controversy caused a public stir; many critics called for him to resign, and newspapers were eager to publish every detail of the building case against him.

While it is easy to criticize the Speaker's behavior, he is not alone. Among Massachusetts politicians, cronyism and quid-pro-quo agreements are rampant. Although it seemed clear Speaker DiMasi was corrupt, Democratic representatives waited to criticize him.  He easily won reelection as Speaker in January, even though his accountant had already been indicted for violating lobbying and campaign finance regulations.  Eventually Sal DiMasi resigned, but still claims that he has done nothing wrong.  The reason no one opposed him is simple; the Speaker has power over committee appointments and when committees can debate.  If representatives do not support the Speaker, they will find it very hard to advance their agenda.  Caucuses, groups of representatives that vote in the same way on certain issues, are viewed as a threat to the Speaker's power, and are rarely formed, since representatives fear that their participation will hurt their possibility at getting committee assignments and other benefits. Through these avenues, the Speaker controls the majority party and the legislature. With the electoral dominance of Democrats in Massachusetts, control over the party generally gives the Speaker enough votes to override a gubernatorial veto, often rendering the governor‚Äôs veto power completely worthless. This greatly reduces the power of the governor over state affairs.

Ultimately, the power of the Speaker needs to be reduced. In order to fight corruption, I would suggest that we give some of the powers assigned to the Speaker, such as committee assignments or granting leadership roles, to the general legislature, or at least a small group of legislators.  Additionally, since the power he has leads towards corruption, as evinced by the previous examples, there should be limits on how long a Speaker can serve. This would reduce corruption, and bring the office closer to a "first among equals" status. It remains to be seen if our current Speaker, and legislature, will be able and willing to implement such difficult and necessary reforms.

Much has been made in recent weeks of the Tufts administration's choice to invite Governor Deval Patrick (D-MA) to be the commencement speaker for the Class of 2009. To illustrate with one unscientific example, a Tufts Daily online poll shows that exactly half are opposed to the choice, and, even less inspiringly, only twenty-six percent of respondents support the choice. My own questioning of students leads me to believe that these numbers do present a fairly accurate snapshot of the zeitgeist on the Hill. While there are certainly legitimate concerns about Governor Patrick's achievements in his first year in office, he is coping better with the economic downturn than most governors in the country, while also trying to accomplish more than them. Furthermore, a governor in good standing of the Commonwealth, which gives us so much, should certainly be accorded the same respect as an acclaimed journalist or inspiring athlete, and choosing who has the honor of being our university's commencement speaker should be more than just a popularity contest.

From above, Governor Patrick is dealing with a national financial crisis. At the local level, his challenges cannot be described in terms this simple; they include a corrupt legislature, the need to fund a healthcare mandate devised by his predecessor which is enduring unforeseen financial crises, and crumbling state infrastructure such as the transportation system, which is in danger of going broke if it is not reformed. Amazingly, Governor Patrick is not only seeking resolutions on these issues which will allow for the continuation of state services, but is also dealing with the fundamental issues which caused these problems in the first place. Moreover, in the face of all these problems, in the first year of his term he stood his ground on the issue of same-sex marriage, working tirelessly against a proposed constitutional amendment to ban it.

Many of our governor's detractors point to the fact that his approval rating is low. However, this is largely a result of Governor Patrick’s willingness to take action that he deems necessary, regardless of public opinion. I doubt that even "Teflon President" Ronald Reagan could have proposed a nineteen-cent increase in the taxation on every gallon of gasoline sold and not seen his approval ratings plummet. Opinion polls are merely snapshots of anger or content with an individual on a given day. Certainly, the public's views should be something the governor considers, but surely it is history's opinion poll that matters most. Furthermore, the governor's approval ratings or unpopular opinions do not preclude his qualification to deliver the commencement address. The University of Notre Dame, a conservative Catholic institution, recently invited President Obama to be its commencement speaker. The University has been vilified by much of the Christian Right for inviting Obama because he is pro-choice, but Notre Dame has stood its ground. When President Obama visits South Bend to speak, it is extremely doubtful that he will extol the virtues of abortion rights. Likewise, when Governor Patrick visits us at Tufts, it is improbable that he will take much time to stump about a gas tax increase.

Others who oppose Governor Patrick's visit complain that he is not enough of a national figure. However, might he just be a little too close for comfort? Much as Jumbos, generally speaking, are more aware of poverty in Malawi than in Medford and more interested in the politics of Syria than Somerville, so too might they be unimpressed with Patrick because he comes from Beacon Hill and not Beijing; in other words, he might not be glamorous enough. However, starry-eyed Tufts students, who want to be anywhere but Massachusetts or who harbor worthy dreams of wanting to become national figures themselves, should consider the fact that Tufts is an institution intimately tied to the Bay State. We are not an island; we owe much to the Commonwealth in which we live. We are offered the resources of an unparalleled intellectual community and the opportunity to spend time in a great national city; there is, after all, a reason why so many of us choose to stay local after graduation. And, whether we realize it or not, we come in contact with Bay Staters every day.

In short, the choice of Governor Patrick as commencement speaker shows a great deal of pragmatic acceptance of the realities of life and governance in what is, for at least four years, a Jumbo's home. Accepting our governor shows the depth of our education; it shows that we understand what it takes to lead, and that we know that decisions which are right are not always popular. Certainly, reasonable criticism can be made of our governor. But he is our governor, and, given his ethically clean record of service to the Commonwealth and his inspiring story of personal achievement, he should at least be accorded a modicum of respect. To those who disapprove of the choice of Governor Patrick, I can only offer one last bit of consolation: commencement exercises are usually boring anyhow. Rather than be overly concerned with who is speaking, make the day a celebration of yourself, and allow your governor, your teachers, and your friends to celebrate you as well.

In her well-written article, "The Growing Divide: Real America?" in the last issue of the Roundtable, Ms. Leslie Ogden wonders if there could possibly be "two Americas." This idea, to her, seems unfortunate; according to her, the idea that our country could be divided seems dangerous and threatening to the stability of the Union. I must inform her that there are more than two Americas - there are, in fact, at least fifty. And, contrary to her belief that this is destructive to our country, it is in fact where we find our strength. America is not a monolithic state, in which we have all decided to agree on a specific set of policies to be implemented by the federal government. Our Founders wisely chose to allow the states to "go their own way," with good reason and generally successful results. Real detriment has resulted when the federal government has tried to turn the constitutionally powerful states into subjugated bodies to do its bidding.

Ms. Ogden and I generally agree on the issues, it seems. She supports same-sex marriage, as do I. Both of us find the proposition of creationism, particularly as an academic theory, to be ridiculous. And both of us seem to be influenced by the urban areas of this country. Our opinions diverge, however, on what is to be done with our countrymen who do not share our views. It appears that Ms. Ogden believes that national accession to policies should be decided by the federal government, with all states following the same policies. I, however am utterly unconcerned with what other states do, at least in a legal sense; my only concern is that my own state is allowed to carry out the policies it sees fit. I wonder if Ms. Ogden realizes that if many of the issues she discusses in her article were put up to a popular vote, our side would lose. Federalism keeps us free to do what we believe is right and rational.

Perhaps late to recognize the utility of states' rights, but certainly willing to flex its muscle in this area, Massachusetts has benefited greatly from the concessions made to it by our venerable Constitution. Even as former Governor Mitt Romney made our state the butt of his jokes leading up to his 2008 Presidential bid, Massachusetts legalized and affirmed the right to same-sex marriage. The same governor decided to take the national lead and bring near-universal health care to Massachusetts. Neither of these things was done with the permission, encouragement, or approval of the other forty-nine states. The Big Dig, a project which has undoubtedly revitalized transport and life in Boston, and the frequent expansions of public transit upon which our state embarks, are projects initiated by the Commonwealth acting alone. The federal government only doles out funding because it has a greater "power of the purse" than the state.

The true deficiency with Ms. Ogden's assumptions lies in a lack of understanding of federalism. I would ask her, "If all the states and regions of the country are meant to act the same, then why did we even bother dividing the country up into states?" It strikes me as extraordinarily patronizing to the rest of the nation to ask the states to simply come to a consensus and agree. This is subversive of the Constitution and insulting to the states. When Massachusetts was maligned by much of the rest of the country for instituting same-sex marriage in 2004, we were being told by the people and politicians of those states to act against our will and to compromise the exercise of our rights as a state. By asking us all to ignore our differences, Ms. Ogden, even with good intentions, is doing the same thing fifty times over.

In 2005, Massachusetts State Senator Brian Lees (R-Hampden) withdrew his support for a constitutional amendment that would ban the right to same-sex marriage that had been guaranteed in the landmark Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court decision Goodridge v. Department of Public Health, an amendment that he himself had initially sponsored. He justified this change of heart by saying, “Gay marriage has begun, and life has not changed for the citizens of the Commonwealth, with the exception of those who can now marry.” Indeed, this is – or at least, should be – the crux of the argument for legalized same-sex marriage. Unfortunately, it was not an argument accepted by the people of California this Election Day, who passed Proposition 8, which limits “marriage” to the union of one man and one woman, by a slim margin. However, if the people of California had been informed of what the people of Massachusetts have known for some time, the result would certainly have been different.

As Senator Lees noted, same-sex marriage has not, in a substantive manner, changed life in Massachusetts, except for those who choose to exercise their affirmed right. Since that warm night on May 17, 2004, when couples lined up in Cambridge to enter into expedited unions, more than eight thousand same-sex couples have become legally wed in Massachusetts. Massachusetts has not, it should be noted, become a Las Vegas of same-sex marriage; in 2004, then-Gov. Mitt Romney (R-MA) invoked a rarely cited 1913 law which prohibited any out-of-state persons from marrying in Massachusetts if that marriage would not be legal in their home state. Not until July 2008 was this law repealed.

It is reasonable to argue that perhaps this should not have been done; requiring out-of-state couples to live in Massachusetts in order to marry would be an excellent means of carrying out the Commonwealth’s “City on a Hill” mission. The societal benefits of any such union recognized by Massachusetts, such as stable foster or adoptive families or good role models for gay and lesbian teens, would be evident to all as something done by and for citizens of Massachusetts, encouraging others to work for the same solid foundations in their own state or to migrate to Massachusetts. It would also show respect for federalism rather than goading other states into calling for a federal ban on same-sex marriage. Indeed, federal law does not require states to recognize marriages from any other state if they would be illegal there. Nevertheless, the point has been made to many reluctant Bay Staters like Sen. Lees; same-sex marriage is hurting nobody.

A large part of the reason that the scare tactics of the “Yes on 8” campaign succeeded in California was because the people of California did not truly get the opportunity to see what we saw in Massachusetts – equality – exist in their own state for more than a few months. For this reason, the “Yes on 8” sponsors, in the face of a decidedly anemic opposition, were able to mislead voters into thinking that the continuation of same-sex marriage would lead to the wholesale destruction of family, religion, and education in the Golden State. In Massachusetts, the situation was such that legislators were able to stall any prospect of these minority rights from being decided on by a majority of voters doing their duty of evaluating the situation and waiting until enough time had passed to make a rational decision. This rational decision was not to send this measure to the voters.

In another era, consummate Yankee John F. Kennedy said, in the heat of a pitched battle over an even darker form of oppression than that which we face today, “Let them come to Berlin.” Not only was he trying to point out the failures of the East German regime, but also the pride of the citizens of the West Berlin enclave of freedom. And so, I do not doubt that were Kennedy alive today, he, like his brother Ted today, would be standing with us. He too would realize after living with it for almost five years that same-sex marriage has injured nobody, and he would be saying, as I do, “Let them come to Massachusetts.” Whereas California and many other states have failed, Massachusetts, and now Connecticut, have proven resilient and now carry the mantle of equality for this entire nation.