Yesterday my wife was leafing through the J.C. Penney flier that came in the Sunday paper, and she noticed something interesting. The flier featured four full page spreads of real women from diverse backgrounds: an Indian mother and her daughters; a special needs girl with her mom, aunts, and grandmother; a single mom and her daughters; and a lesbian couple with a grandmother and two daughters.
The description read: “You’ll often find Wendi, her partner, Maggie, and daughters elbow-deep in paint, clay or mosaics. ‘Even as babies, the girls toddled around in diapers, covered in paint,’ said Wendi. They come from a long line of artists, which includes grandma Carolyn. Visiting her art studio in Granbury, Texas is a favorite outing. And like any grandma, this one loves to bake—pottery, that is.”
The caption read: “creativity, oil paintings, freedom of expression.” The latter seemed to refer to both their art and their sexual choices.
The ad is more evidence that cultural approval of homosexuality is a fait accompli. As President Obama’s views on marriage continue to evolve, who doubts that his position will finally mature shortly after the election? Perhaps even before, if necessary. After Vice President Biden said on Meet the Press yesterday that he is “comfortable with” gay marriage, it seems that the administration has put its position on gay marriage behind glass that reads, “Break in case of emergency, or if you play for the New York Knicks.”
The other thing I noticed about the ad is that there is no man in the picture. Not that long ago Mother’s Day would naturally imply the presence of a father, but with the rise of homosexual practice and out of wedlock births, this simply isn’t the case anymore. I wonder what will happen to men who are no longer valued as necessary for a healthy family, and I wonder about the two little girls in the picture who must grow up without a father. Aren’t they missing out on something essential too?
Sometimes our freedom of expression can put other people in bondage. And if they were born into this limited arrangement, they may never understand what they’re missing.
Mike Wittmer 
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