I've become accustomed to jumping to the defense of Maine.  In the past, a slight jab at my beloved state could launch me into a well-rehearsed speech.  I clarified that I do not live in Canada, nor do I live in "the boonies."  I assured my skeptical listeners that in Maine, one can live a happy and productive life and that one has access to a broad span of opportunities, which, as of May 2009, included the opportunity for homosexual couples to legally marry.

But on November 4, I had no desire to defend Maine.  Question 1, which called for the revocation of the legalization of gay marriage, passed with 53 percent of the votes.  Maine had taken a huge step backward in the journey toward equality.

At first, I could not comprehend how my forward-thinking state could make this decision.  But then I realized that "my state" referred to the area in which I grew up, not Maine in its entirety.

Maine is divided.  The line that separates the state into two congressional districts also marks a division in ideology and ways of life. (Maine's electoral votes are also divided. It's one of two states, along with Nebraska, that apportions its electoral votes separately.)

This line was never so defined as it was on November 3, when Mainers headed to the polls.  The Portland Press Herald reported that in Cumberland County, a county that boasts about 25 percent of Maine's population and its largest city Portland, 60 percent of voters said No on 1.  While in Aroostook, the state's northernmost county, the question passed with 73 percent of the votes. 

Southern Maine tends to be liberal.  Portland has had Green Party city councilmembers.  But the 280 miles north of Greater Portland maintain a more conservative lifestyle.  

Why the division?  Like with most things, the answer lies in history.  Maine's population consists mainly of the descendents of Yankees, or English settlers, and French-Canadian and Irish immigrants.  

While the majority of the Irish immigrants stayed on the coast, building an extensive community in Portland, the French-Canadians came to the state for its industries: paper and textiles.  They populated small logging towns and the industrial mill towns.  They built neighborhoods around a shared language and a shared religion: Catholicism.

Currently, Maine is about 30 percent Catholic.  When gay marriage appeared on the ballot, the Bishop of the Diocese of Portland ordered that all priests use the pulpit as a means to promote Yes on 1. The Diocese also donated $152,600 to the Yes on 1 campaign. 

For some Mainers, the church's position was a deciding factor.

For others, fear was.  

The fear tactics of the Yes on 1 campaign preyed upon the state's division. The Southern part of the state is more diverse, both in terms of race and sexuality. Portland and the seaside vacation town of Ogunquit have significant gay populations.    

But diversity becomes less common as one drives up I-95 into Central and Northern Maine.  

In 1984, Charles Howard was thrown off a bridge in Bangor, a city in Central Maine, for being "flamboyantly gay." He then had an asthma attack and drowned. In 2003, a Neo-Nazi group along with members of the Lewiston community held a hate rally against the newly arrived Somali immigrant population of the city.

The Yes on 1 campaign, under the name Stand for Marriage Maine, aired ads that stated that the "gay lifestyle" would be forced on Maine students. For many members of the small towns of rural Maine, this idea of change must have been astonishing. Their vote for Question 1 was a way of maintaining the status quo.

The overriding reason that Maine voted Yes on 1 is lack of exposure. Until both parts of my state can see this issue in human terms, progress will remains at a standstill.