Chawwa is sculpturist, poet and columnist. In her personal life she is a mother and grandmother, living with her wife in Zeeland, The Netherlands

Ain’t that nice,  Obama allows our kind of people to marry. Because we are just like ordinary people. Marriagers of the same gender.  To me, the word gender does not indicate the reproductive parts in the warmest regions of our body. It merely reminds me of ginger. Tasteful roots used in hot, fragrant cuisines. So now, as gays, we’re hot and spicing up society. We live, and not in shame anymore.

Ain’t that a shame. We used to be exceptional. Not ordinary, but extraordinary. We were the brave warriors in the fight for equal rights. Will we become part of the melting pot now? Melting pot. That sounds like jugs of beer drank by the heterosexual neighbours when they’re having a barbecue.

In the old days, yeah, granny is talking, in the old days, over 30 years ago, they threw stones through the windows of my first lover and wrote ‘Dirty Dykes’ and ‘Lesbian Whores’ on the wall. Did we call the police? I can’t remember we did. In those days, policemen thought we were ‘scary dykes’ as well.

Our demonstrations were small scale and frightening. And where did we leave the car? We were so tired of all those hours chanting our mottos in the wind, and walking miles on our unfashionable shoes.

Or we were beaten by the police at our Free Abortion Rally, because we were there too, us ‘dykes’.

Dykes? My mum always thought that word was too rude. According to her we were lesbiennes . That had such a nice, French-elegant ring to it. Sure mum, elegance goes before anything. While she raised me in the way of: “Do whatever you like, people will talk about you anyway.” She practised what she preached.

She proudly told her neighbors in Israel that her daughter was a lesbian, and that I could do nothing about that, for it were my hormones. Well, back than it were hormones. Although we used to fiercely cry it was a choice. That all women were lesbians, but hadn’t found out yet. Those were the days.

Our Christian neighbours in the village where we used to live also thought we were just like people. The adolescent village-kids used to call us names. But I knew how to deal with that. Whenever they started yelling nasty things, I yelled back: ‘Just let me tell you something … about your mum …. That was usually enough to make them leave. I never had to use the next sentence:  ”She sleeps with a MAN”. Beat them about the bush with the truth. HAHA.

But now Obama. We are glad, and we are a bit surprised to be glad. Because it still sounds strange in our old ears. Are we really allowed to exist just the way we are?

For more information about Chawwa (all in Dutch), visit Chawwa’s Webite