Gay marriage is not legal in Australia. It is estimated that at least 70% of Australians support same sex marriage, and most politicians are also in favor. This month, citizens are receiving a one-question survey in the mail: Do you support a change in the law to allow same-sex couples to marry? The survey is voluntary to complete and costs $122 million (in a country of 24 million people). The result of the postal survey is non-binding but a yes result will allow Parliament a “free vote,” where politicians are expected to vote based on personal preference rather than party lines.
A survey on equal rights is demeaning, but as I said to my sneezy daughter last night, sometimes we have to take horrible tasting medicine in order to get better.
I show up at the Yes Campaign Call Center at five past five, which causes me mild panic because Handlers Are Never Late. I couldn’t find the building and was wandering around Parliament House dressed like a strawberry farmer in my overalls and boots.
People who run call centers should be given awards, because their job is to stand in front of two-hour shift volunteers and explain the same thing over and over again. Blond-haired Michael explains he isn’t gay but “can’t imagine a more important issue,” and Susan has an arm brace and introduces herself as “Susan who can’t stop talking.”
My job tonight is to cold call Western Australians and remind them to vote yes on their marriage equality surveys. “Before we jump on the phones, let’s introduce ourselves,” says Susan who can’t stop talking.
Nicole, sitting next to me, is in her sixties. Her gay son lives in Toronto because “it is more of an open culture and he can be himself.” Her eyes well up. “I wish he could be treated the same as my daughters.”
I say my husband is black and it wasn’t that long ago that he and I wouldn’t have been able to get married in the states. “We tell our children it’s the same thing,” I explain, suddenly feeling emotional.
An Indian-Australian man and his partner of eight years who looks like Hugh Jackman finish each other’s sentences. “We’d like to get married,” Hugh says. His partner squeezes his knee and adds, “He just wants a big party.” Everyone laughs and then becomes quiet.
A pretty woman in a pantsuit speaks calmly as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “My sister is gay. I hate the survey. This is the least I can do.” She crosses her legs, sighs, and apologizes for being so negative.
Australians are positive people who shy away from conflict. In three years, I have heard of only two protests in Perth – one for the treatment of refugees, and another to keep a high school in its current building. More people turned out for the high school. My friend Celena and I attended a rally for marriage equality, which felt more like a family reunion. I was surprised by the low turnout and remembered a couple of years ago when close to a million people flooded the Perth streets to see gigantic French marionettes. “Bring a puppet, and they’ll show up,” Celena said tersely.
It is time to get on the phones. We are handed bottles of water and lollies. Susan who can’t stop talking says she likes to tell people that voting against gay marriage is “downright un-Australian” and Michael suggests we don’t engage with anyone who is voting no. “Just thank them for their time and move on,” he says, passing out scripts.
I make thirty-four calls, twenty of which result in voice messages. Of the remaining fourteen, I log eight yes votes, two no’s, two undecided, one hang up, and one giggly child who tells me his dad is next door and asks if he should get him. “No thanks,” I say. “We’ll call back.”
I speak to one woman for several minutes. She has already mailed in her survey. “I voted yes of course. Who wouldn’t?” I tell her about my phone call with a man who defended a local tennis champion who recently publicly argued against gay marriage and got tossed out of her tennis club leadership role (big news in Perth). He is voting no, I told the woman. “Good on you, mate,” she says. “I would have lost the plot on that one. What difference does it make to him?” I request that she remind her friends to vote yes. “They know to stay away from me if they’re not,” she laughs.
I speak to a man who hasn’t received his survey but is planning on voting yes. “Everyone deserves to be happy. I don’t understand the problem.” Another older man feels similarly and expresses it in a quintessentially Australian way, “I’m not really fussed either way.”
One man takes issue with the word marriage and therefore is voting no. I have a friend who also feels this way but I do not tell him this. I thank him for his time.
Between calls, I tap my foot to the hold music, “Signed, Sealed, Delivered.” Nicole and I agree that Stevie Wonder keeps our spirits up.
One man tells me he hasn’t decided how he’ll vote. I ask him if there’s anything he’d like to discuss. He sounds wistful when he says, “No, not really.” I thank him for his time.
Our shift is over and we take a group photo. Door knocking is this weekend and we are given posters and stickers before heading out into the dark.
Australia’s last nationwide opinion survey was in 1977 when citizens chose the national anthem (It had been “God Save the Queen”). The winning song, the current anthem, is beautiful and reminds me of “Auld Lang Syne.” My favorite line is, “With courage let us all combine to advance Australia fair.” Yes let’s.