I recently filled out an online questionnaire about my “values” and “priorities,” something I thought I would never do, but the promise was that the computer would tabulate my answers by matching them to the various political parties. This would then tell me which of the four would be most appropriate for my interests. So I “A B C and D'd” my way through multiple-choice questions. In the end the poll told me what I already knew. The party I'm voting for is the party which best represents how I see the world. I try to be an informed voter.

What did surprise me was that some of my ideals had become more “small-c” conservative over the years. The only thing is, the way things stand, I can never, ever vote that way. You see, as a gay man of a particular age, I remember the dark times of violence and repression. I remember fearing for my job. I remember being turned away from apartments because they wouldn't rent to two men. I remember fearing violence when leaving a bar or event that catered primarily to others of my kind. I remember that fear. Deep, deep fear.

As such, elections terrify me. You see, I don't believe, like the millions who don't vote, that elections don't matter, that one party is pretty much the same as the other. I don't believe that civil liberties once won are ever safe. I don't believe that we have entered into the realization that “all” are Canadian and therefore “all” are equal. I don't believe that by a long shot.

Political parties that court, even covertly, a religious fundamentalist vote scare me. The separation of church and state is probably the smartest thing about a democracy. Allowing religious beliefs to determine public policy means that there will always be an “other” and that “other” will live in fear. I tire of hearing people bemoan the fact that Canada is a tolerant nation. I know that tolerance takes work, bigotry is easier as prejudice comes naturally. I do not believe that my civil liberties should ever be up for debate. But in the minds of many, they are.

Gay marriage? Really, why does anyone care?

But oh my, people do. Really do. To the point of apoplexy.

I marched in one of the first gay rights marches in the city of Toronto. I marched in fear. People yelled at us. Spat at us. Threw rocks at us. But I marched because I needed to conquer fear and claim this city and this country as my own. I marched because I didn't want to live in fear any more. I didn't want to hear, even one more time, that my heart was deviant and my love perverse. I didn't want the vile, despicable slogan “love the sinner, hate the sin” to be used as a means of furthering violence and oppression in the name of love, of all things.

As a Canadian, as a gay man, I'd like the hear the leaders of each party state, unequivocally, that every citizen can sleep soundly knowing that our government won't ever again sneak into our homes, tiptoe down our hallways, and arrest us for sleeping in the arms of someone we love. I want to be guaranteed that I will never again have my heart ripped from my chest by public policy and by private hatred.

Dave Hingsburger has worked with people who have intellectual disabilities for more than 35 years. He writes the award-winning disability blog Rolling Around in My Head at davehingsburger.blogspot.com.