My column from Q Notes:
“Things as certain as death and taxes, can be more firmly believed”
wrote the 18th century writer Daniel Dafoe. This truthful statement
comes to mind once a year like clockwork during February when I file my
federal and state taxes. I file early because, as a father, I usually
get a tax credit for my son. The rest of the taxes I file as a single
man, though in reality I’m not a single man. I’m a divorced man. And,
I’m a man with a partner of 17 years and counting. While we are not
recognized as husband and husband or in a civil union in the eyes of the
federal or state government, there was the feeling of permanence to the
relationship when we bought our first house years ago. Because we’ve
never lived in a state in which we could celebrate a civil union or
domestic partnership, e.g., Oregon, or marry, e.g., Massachusetts, we’ve
never had a ritualistic ceremony of union in which we exchanged rings;
no jumping the broom; and no chuppah or canopy over us as one or both of
us broke a glass in a dainty napkin. Instead, we bought a house and
every year I am reminded that it is the one thing that we did to
more-or-less “cement” our relationship in the eyes of the state and
federal government. This is also especially true when I mark that I am
the head of the household (I’m older, so there).
As I filed my taxes, this is the reality that I must tell you about: I
am paying taxes to governments — federal and state — that treat my
partner and me as second class citizens. I pay into a social security
system in which I will not be able to inherit my partner’s share if he
were to die first (unlike my mom who still gets my dad’s social security
check). We do not get the option to file jointly as my brother and his
wife do in their state and federal taxes, thus seeking any other tax
credits. And, if he were to die first (God forbid), I would not directly
inherit his share of the wealth we have accrued, but would have to pay a
tax for it. I cannot check the box “married” on either tax form, but
mark “single,” when I am anything but single, tethered as I am into so
many relationships.
And, what don’t we get in return? We don’t get the right to marry. We
don’t get the right to share medical or joint retirement benefits from
our respective employer (we both work for the state of North Carolina as
public employees).We don’t get to legally inherit each other’s earnings
or belongings. We don’t get the right to make medical decisions at the
hospital were one of us sick. We are figuratively and literally two
individuals who are treated as roommates in the eyes of the federal
government and the state of North Carolina. Nothing more and nothing
less.
There is something within me that wants to pull a Henry David Thoreau
and mount an act of civil disobedience. Maybe I should withhold my
taxes until I can honestly report who and whose I am on my tax return.
Maybe I should conduct a “sit in” at the N.C. Department of Revenue
building as a protest, with a big sign simply saying “unfair!” by my
Occupy Raleigh tent. Or, I could perhaps lead a pilgrimage of protest,
gathering other LGBTQ people who are not able to honestly mark who they
are on their tax returns from Chapel Hill and Durham to Raleigh. Count
on this: when DOMA is over-turned, we will be ready to mark our tax
returns just like my straight parents and straight brother and
sister-in-law do every year until the next sure thing in life finally
hits us both: death.
More here/link here: http://goqnotes.com/21504/taxes-and-death/
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