We’re Here, We’re Queer, and We’re Prepared

September is National Preparedness Month. Didn’t know that? It’s an observance first created in 2004 by presidential proclamation and given a certain ironic twist in 2005 when Hurricane Katrina swept through at the end of August, making September an object lesson. The month is supposed to be “an opportunity to raise awareness about the importance of emergency preparedness and to encourage all Americans to better prepare their homes and communities for emergencies.”

Without devolving into paranoia or conspiracy theories, that does have a certain reasonableness, especially if one lives in an area prone to serious acts of weather. The U.S. Government has helpfully put together a list of items you might want to consider for a family emergency kit (PDF link), including changes of clothing, a first-aid kit, extra medicines and toiletry supplies, cash, and books or games for children. They also suggest carrying “Important family documents such as copies of insurance policies, identification and bank account records in a waterproof, portable container.”

I laughed out loud at this. As an LGBT family, we never travel anywhere without a copy of our medical powers of attorney, living wills, Massachusetts marriage certificate, our son’s birth certificate (with both our names on it), our court order naming us both his parents, and our attorney’s phone number. We’ve got copies in the glove compartments of both our cars and in all our suitcases.

Then there’s the gay couple in Iowa who managed to get a marriage license, a waiver of the usual three-day waiting period, and a Unitarian minister to marry them during the window of less than 24 hours when same-sex couples could marry in the state. I bet they had already downloaded and completed the license application, stored it in their car, and had the number of the minister programmed into their cell phones. [Update: See comment.]

The government could take a few lessons from the LGBT community on how to be prepared. Be Prepared—isn’t that the Scout’s motto? Speaking of irony . . . .