Clodagh Robinson and Monnine Griffith
Edie Robinson-Griffith is having a scone. She has already had the two fake carrots from the top of the cake and helped herself to some extra icing. Now the blonde two-year-old is heading into the living room to sit on a cushion and watch a DVD. She is adorable.
Adorable and adored.
Her mothers, Clodagh Robinson and Monnine Griffith, still have a post-marriage referendum glow, although that could be the cheeky effect of the central heating, as the wind howls outside.
It has been a busy year. Griffith was co-director of Marriage Equality, and Robinson kept the home fires burning with Edie and in her job as a teacher at Dalkey School Project.
It has all been worth it, says Robinson. “This Christmas everything has changed for Edie, because last Christmas her mums weren’t equal, whereas this Christmas her two mums are equal. She doesn’t understand that at the moment, but in the future it will mean a lot to her.”
“Legislation has to be commenced,” says Griffith, pointing out that the Children and Family Relationships Bill still has to deal with the issue of guardianship, which affects same-sex parents. “But in the eyes of most Irish people, we are a family now. The people who love us and are close to us already saw that, but the majority in Ireland now see us just as an ordinary family. A little bit different, sure, but just ordinary.”
“The only thing different is the gender of one of the parents, the rest is exactly the same,” says Robinson, popping out from the kitchen to check on Edie and popping back to check on the stew.
What does it feel like to be able to celebrate Christmas as an equal citizen in the country you live in?
“Amazing,” says Griffith. “I’ve been working on this a long time, and it was really important to me as an equality issue, but it was only a few days after that I had to go away, and Clodagh brought me to the airport. We held hands, we kissed each other goodbye and that was the first time I did that comfortably without looking over my shoulder to see who was watching.”
“This was after eight years together, so that’s how long it took.”
When 1.2 million people voted Yes in the marriage referendum, it bowled Griffith over. “I knew what equality was, but [now] I actually felt it. It was a physical realisation of what being equal feels like. Unless you are in a same-sex relationship, you can’t understand what that’s like, to worry about people’s reaction to a very simple kiss on the cheek, a kiss goodbye at an airport, just holding each other’s hand. You are constantly mindful of other people’s reactions, but unless you’ve ever experienced that, it is very hard to describe. Post-referendum, I simply felt that I didn’t have to explain, and it was the most wonderful, positive feeling.”
This Christmas, Edie will open her presents from Santa, have her breakfast and then head off with them to have dinner at Griffith’s parents’ house in Shankill, Dublin.
They will have turkey and enjoy a ham that doesn’t “bounce”, as the women’s home-cooked offering did last year. Then it will be off to Co Laois to Robinson’s parents for St Stephen’s Day.
The women say they have no plans for a Christmas engagement, although the nephews and nieces are very keen on the idea and are already planning flower-girl and best-man ensembles.
The couple also laugh at the idea of embarking on a “mixed marriage”: Robinson is from a Protestant background and Griffith a Catholic one. “We weren’t sure if my mum was more upset that Clodagh was a woman or that she was Protestant,” says Griffith.
The marriage-equality campaign has made everybody’s Christmas better this year, they agree. We should just be “thanking all the gays for giving us back a beautiful country,” says a smiling Robinson. “It can be the campest Christmas ever now,” says Griffith.
Michael Barron and Jaime Nanci
Michael Barron is sitting in his squeaky clean, new office. He has been at his desk for only two weeks, heading up Equate: Equality in Education, which hopes to do exactly what it says on the tin.
“We’re a new organisation, a children’s-rights organisation focused on changing the education system so it becomes more pluralist and inclusive,” he says.
As the founder of BelongTo, the LGBT youth organisation that played such a vital part in securing a Yes vote in May’s marriage referendum, Barron has form. Changing the system does not appear to be an overly optimistic aspiration.
This will be his first Christmas as an equal citizen. Barron married his husband, Jaime Nanci – who is originally from Dundalk – in South Africa six years ago. Their marriage was recognised in Ireland on November 16th, as were all same-sex marriages conducted overseas. “So as a result of the marriage-equality referendum, this is the first Christmas we are considered a married couple in Ireland, which is a very nice feeling.”
Although Barron and Nanci often go away for Christmas to Nanci’s family, who have relocated to western Australia and to other foreign climes, they are spending this year in Wexford with Barron’s family: “Mum, dad, three of my sisters and my brother, their partners, children . . . ” says Barron. One sister is in the US and will miss the festivities.
The two men had been seeking equal recognition for a long time, says Barron, so when the legislation finally passed in November, it just felt “really normal” and they didn’t have a big celebration. The couple did celebrate “a lot” when the marriage referendum passed, however, says Barron.
So will Christmas 2015 feel different?It will, says Barron. “I think one of the things that makes it feel different is that my family campaigned for marriage equality. That felt really good, that my family was campaigning for it too.”
This Christmas is truly about family for Barron. “It is the first time I will have seen them together since the referendum passed,” he says. “It will be a nice opportunity for me and Jaime to say thank you to them for their support. They didn’t have to come out and campaign, they didn’t have to have all those conversations, but I am so delighted that they did. They really nailed their colours to the mast.”
Christmas is also for children, and Barron says the referendum showed that young people in Ireland have a strong sense of social justice. “That’s kind of exciting, isn’t it?”
Most importantly, the referendum changed growing up LGBT in Ireland, says Barron. “For the 13-year-old young woman in Leitrim who is struggling to come out, or wondering if she should come out or not, it is so important that we, as a country, are in favour of her identity and her rights.
“I think we have lifted the lid on secrecy and silence and let the sun shine on a lot of young people who are struggling.”
