No more vague awkwardness allowed, I admonished myself. You can get married too these days. But the thing about history is that it sits on your shoulder and whispers in your ear even when the conversation has moved on.
This is kind of the point, I think, of Kara Walker’s show, My Complement, My Enemy, My Oppressor, My Love, at the
History is not something to climb over but to muddle through again and again. I’m not saying unequal marriage laws are like slavery, but I think her exhibit is useful and resonant to anyone who feels like they can’t get up and brush themselves off as quickly as the larger culture would like them to. And it’s only at the Hammer until June 8, so get thee there.
Let me also say that Holly and Joel are moving weddings in a direction I like in at least one important way. Two words: dessert potluck. Out with the pretty-but-dry cake and in with the banquet table of banana pudding, fruit cobbler, moist red velvet cake and papaya strudel.