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© Christopher Mueller
Here’s a short story of love and liberation for your Sunday enjoyment.
Chapter 1) For Christmas, my sister and her family gave us tickets to Hedwig and the Angry Inch at Signature Theatre (Arlington’s answer to Broadway). Hedwig is about gender identity and exploration, and liberation, and relationships, and figuring out how to love who you are and encourage that freedom in others. It’s funny and aggressive and profane and tender. It blew us all away.
Chapter 2) Hedwig is a two-person show with the energy of a rock concert (the kickass band is on stage and integrated into the production) combined with the pathos of a tragedy. The stars have to be on and radiant 100%. Hedwig, played by Sawyer Smith (they/she), in particular, does most of the talking, teasing the audience, singing (think diva with spectacular range), and dancing, all while wearing fabulously creative costumes and gravity-defying wigs. Yitzhak, played by V Sterling (they/she/he), is Hedwig’s partner/assistant/foil depending on the moment, and also sings like an angel or a demon, depending on the scene.
Chapter 3) Anyway, this is not actually a theater review. The important bit about this show is that it affected Niki in a way that I have never before seen them react to or connect with a piece of theater. They were profoundly moved by seeing Hedwig. It meant a lot to them. That night after the show we waited around for a while to see if we could meet Sawyer and V, but eventually we had to go home before they appeared.
Chapter 4) I knew the Hedwig was closing tonight and I had hoped to take Niki to see it again, but tickets were almost all sold out and quite expensive, as the show was extremely popular. Apparently it was a record-breaking run, but I’m not sure what record it broke. Last week I stopped by the theater, sat in the lobby, and wrote a letter to Sawyer and V. I told the actors about Niki and our experience at the show and how we hoped to come again, or, if we couldn’t get tickets, to at least meet Sawyer and V. I gave them my email address and phone number. I asked the people at the box office for an envelope and to please deliver the letter. They promised to leave it in the dressing room.
Chapter 5) Last night I got a text from Sawyer, saying they thought the show was sold out but they’d definitely be happy to meet us after today’s matinee. I looked on Signature’s website and discovered two seats left for the matinee. They were pretty pricy, however, so I figured I would buy them in person so I could try to get the student price ($25) for one of the tickets. When I got the message, Niki and Randy and I were in the middle of watching an especially intense episode of Andor, so I waited until it ended and I ran out of the house, yelling behind me that I had to run an errand immediately (and unintentionally freaking Niki out). I sped to the theater only to discover the box office was already closed. I explained the situation to another employee, who suggested I email the box office right away with my request and call them as soon as they opened this morning. I had wanted to keep my errand a secret so that if it didn’t work out to see the show, Niki wouldn’t be disappointed. But after I got home we went out for ice cream and I had to explain to them what I had been doing because they were alarmed at my sudden, unexplained departure. They promised that even if we couldn’t get tickets, they appreciated me making the effort.
© Christopher Mueller
Chapter 6) I called the box office this morning at 10 (from church, as I was helping lead today’s service) and left a message. I called again at 11, when my part of the service was over, and left a message. Shortly thereafter I got an email from the box office saying that unfortunately those tickets had been sold, but that we could come for the rush period before the show in case someone turned in their tickets or didn’t come. The matinee was at 2, and the rush period starts at 12:30, so the email suggested we bring things to do.
Chapter 7) With water bottles, books, playing cards, my laptop, and a phone charger all in my backpack, we arrived at Signature at 12:30, identified ourselves, and settled into a pair of purple armchairs to wait. Niki read a novel. I wrote an article. We watched people walk through the lobby doors. At 1:45, one of the box office staff came over to where we were sitting. I felt certain she was going to say that everyone had shown up with their tickets and we would have to go home. Instead she said, you’re in luck, there are two tickets in the front row center that opened up. Niki and I leapt out of our seats, our hearts racing. We followed her to the counter to pay, and even more fortunately, the tickets cost only $30 each because that’s the rush price. I hadn’t even known that was a thing at Signature. Everyone at the box office seemed genuinely happy for us.
Chapter 8) We took our seats. If you’ve never been to Signature Theatre, you should know that there’s no bad seat in the house—actually there are two theaters there and they’re both pretty intimate and the way the stage and seats are arranged, you can always see what’s happening. But when you’re in the front row (which we’ve been privileged to be for Into the Woods and In the Heights), you can see everything, like every expression and teardrop and bead of sweat on the actors’ faces and every stitch and sequin in the costumes, and every clever detail of the set. So in the front row for Hedwig, we were approximately a foot or two away from the actors at any given time. We were close enough that Sawyer took Niki’s hat and placed it on top of their voluminous blond wig for a moment. We were close enough that Sawyer made eye contact with Niki and winked during another song. We were close enough that Sawyer reached out and clasped the hands of everyone in the front row, and for an instant held Niki’s face in their hands. The whole performance was even more phenomenal the second time, and left Niki in a puddle once again.
Chapter 9) Afterward we made our way to the lobby, still feeling the emotional aftershocks of the show. A little while later, once most of the audience had left, Sawyer and V (and Marika Countouris (she/her), the awesome keyboard player in the band and the show’s musical director) emerged through the stage doors. Sawyer and V came out with arms wide open to give us hugs. They were so kind and sweet and posed for pictures and signed Niki’s program. Sawyer told Niki to keep being themselves and called them angel. Then they gave us more hugs.
Chapter 10) Niki gave ME a lot of hugs in gratitude for making all that happen. I couldn’t have made it happen without the pro tips from the box office staff and the generosity of the actors, who were willing to connect with Niki, during and after the performance, and show them some love. Niki is 12 and I don’t know what’s going on in their head a lot of the time, but I know they take in a lot of what’s going on in the world. Right now, there’s a lot of hate and cruelty swirling around in the atmosphere. As much as we tell Niki we love them and we have their back and we’ll do whatever it takes to support and protect them, I suspect they know there may be battles ahead they will have to fight on their own. In the first song in the musical, Hedwig sings
Enemies and adversaries
they try and tear me down
You want me, baby, I dare you
Try and tear me down
Niki won’t forget seeing Hedwig sing that just for them.
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It’s been a rough week to be the parent of a trans kid and an advocate for the queer community. I told a friend that it feels like you’ve just recovered from a gut punch, caught your breath, and stood back up, when another punch comes straight at you. Of course, this is what it feels like to be just about anyone in the US since January, unless you’re a rich and powerful white cis straight man. If your demographic or your job or your ethnic group or religion hasn’t already been attacked, just wait a few minutes.
I’m trying not to feel like I’m being dragged under the waves, but it’s hard. Thank goodness there are always books! Helping people feel connected with other humans since the invention of the printing press!
To celebrate Pride month, I’m writing about 30 of my favorite LGBTQIA+ authors and books that center queer characters. I’ve been posting on LinkedIn and Facebook, and I shared the first 10 titles here. Now here’s the second installment of 10 more books.
No. 11) Sir Callie and the Knights of Helston by Esme Syses-Smith
I was not expecting to feel so seen by this book. While 12-year-old nonbinary Callie is the main character here, the author does an outstanding job conveying the struggles of Callie’s dad to protect and advocate for his kid (and other queer or outsider kids he encounters) in an exceedingly traditional (read: hostile) environment. Yes, this is a middle grade book, but in many ways I felt like it was written for me.
No. 12) Pink, Blue, and You! Questions for Kids about Gender Stereotypes by Elise Gravel – français
https://elisegravel.com/en/
Elise Gravel is one of our favorite authors. She is imaginative, compassionate, and funny, and she explores all kinds of topics in her books. Pink, Blue, and You! examines some of the myths our culture perpetuates about gender and invites readers to decide for themselves what they think about what kind of activities and attributes are appropriate for different kinds of humans.
No. 13) The Magnus Chase trilogy by Rick Riordan
https://rickriordan.com/…/magnus-chase-and-the-gods-of…/
God bless Rick Riordan. He’s most famous for the Percy Jackson universe, but he’s written a lot of other books as well. Riordan does a terrific job featuring characters who are diverse in race, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, religion, gender, and other ways without tokenizing these differences. He’s also helped publish a variety of authors whose fantasy series are rooted in lore from around the world.
But right now I’m talking about the Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard trilogy, set in the world of Norse mythology. This series includes genderfluid and pansexual characters, and reading the books with my then-eight-year-old helped them find the words to come out as nonbinary.
No. 14) Augusten Burroughs
https://www.augusten.com/about.html
I am in the middle of listening to Augusten Burroughs’ Lust and Wonder, which apparently came out in 2016 but just came to my attention recently. If you haven’t heard of him, I recommend starting with Running with Scissors. Most of his books are memoirs, but his life has been so unusual you might think they’re fiction. I love his honesty and insights and he’s funny as hell.
No. 15) The Heartstopper series
https://aliceoseman.com/heartstopper
Heartstopper started as a web comic that quickly amassed a huge following, the became a series of graphic novels, and then was picked up by Netflix for several wonderful seasons, which are expected to culminate in a feature film this year. The stories are about these teenagers who are so normal and so unique in the way all teenagers are. They have challenges with their parents, or bullies, or self-image, or anxiety, AND they have each other AND they are all figuring out their sexuality and gender identities. The books and the show are incredibly sweet and true and heartbreaking and joyful. I would recommend these to folks who don’t necessarily have LGBTQIA+ kids (that you know of), but would like to (or should) learn more about what it’s like to be a queer kid.
No. 16) Spin with Me by Ami Polonski
A question that isn’t always explored in books about queer identity is what it means when a person who thought they were straight develops romantic feelings for someone who is gender expansive. That’s a central theme in Spin with Me, a beautifully written story featuring a girl who temporarily moves to a new town with her dad and makes a new set of friends. Fun fact, after we finished this book, Niki wrote a message to the author through the author’s website and got a response right away!
No. 17) Brandi Carlile‘s Broken Horses
https://brokenhorsesbook.com/index.html
Brandi Carlile is one of my favorite artists and someone I think is just a beautiful, brilliant, badass human. She is one of the few musicians who my husband and teenagers and I all equally love. We’ve seen her in concert several times. So if you don’t know her music, listen to it now. Then read her memoir. Better yet, listen to her memoir because she sings throughout it, songs you won’t hear on any album, but that influenced her or meant something important to her at some point in her life. She’s not only a songwriter, but she’s an insightful and talented memoirist as well.
No. 18) Dear Mothman by Robin Gow
My kid recommended this to me a while ago and I just remembered to read it. Dear Mothman pierced my heart in the best possible way. It’s about being a trans kid who feels very alone, then finally seen, and suddenly alone again and the lengths they go to to find acceptance and love. And it’s a novel written in verse, which is always cool. And Robin Gow is a trans author who I’ve just discovered has written several other books which I plan to read immediately.
No. 19) Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid
https://taylorjenkinsreid.com/books/the-seven-husbands-of-evelyn-hugo/
While LGBQTIA+ people today certainly don’t have it easy, given the political climate fomenting homophobia and transphobia, coming out as a queer person in 2025 is definitely not as seemingly impossible and dangerous as it once was. This book explores the lengths to which gay people in show business went to keep their private lives secret, and the effect that had on the people they loved.
20) Over the Top by Jonathan Van Ness
https://jonathanvanness.com/books/
I am such a Queer Eye fan that I have the lego set on my desk–a little lego version of JVN is styling the hair of the lego version of their former high school music teacher. I love Jonathan because he always makes people feel good about themselves no matter what, because he’s spent a lifetime learning to feel good about their own identity in the face of negative messages from all fronts. Over the Top is JVN’s first memoir, but he’s also written other books–fiction and nonfiction–for kids and adults about loving yourself just as you are.
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You know why I post about all these queer books and authors? Because reading builds EMPATHY and UNDERSTANDING. Reading helps us understand the thoughts and ideas and experiences of all kinds of people. Reading fiction achieves this as much or more than reading nonfiction, because it’s more accessible to many readers.
Anyone who questions why they would read about queer people if they’re not queer needs to examine this logic. Humans have been reading about people who are not like them as long as there have been books because humanity is made up of a million flavors of people and it’s a blessing and a gift to be able to learn about and explore the things we have in common and what makes us unique. We gain insights and new perspectives by reading about people from different periods in history, different places, different cultures, different religions…why wouldn’t we read about people with different gender identities and sexualities? The world is populated by billions of extraordinary ordinary people whose lives have meaning and value.
Ideally, we all have the opportunity to get to know lots of kinds of people in real life. But when that’s not possible, there are always books. I urge you, even if you’re not queer or don’t have queer loved ones (that you know of) or don’t have queer kids, read some of the books I’ve recommended. And if you DO know or love kids or adults who are lgbtqia+ please read some books I’ve recommended. Or other books by or about lgbtqia+ people. If you work with children or young people in any capacity, read some of these books. There are a ton of great book lists.
If you want to be an ally, learn more about the people you say you support. That’s a place to start.
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To celebrate Pride 2025, I’m writing about 30 of my favorite LGBTQIA+ authors and books that center queer characters. Reading builds empathy. Our world could use more.
Here are the first 10 of my 30 recommendations.
No. 1) TJ Klune https://www.tjklunebooks.com/
TJ Klune possesses a marvelous talent for creating characters–whether they are human or in any number of other fantastical forms–who immediately take up residence in your heart. His books are achingly good and I want to live inside them. I haven’t read all of them (yet) but I especially loved The House in the Cerulean Sea (and its companion) and the Wolfsong series.
No. 2) Becky Albertalli https://www.beckyalbertalli.com/
In a bookstore, you’d find Becky Albertalli’s books in the YA section, but I find that to be a meaningless way to categorize books. Certainly, many young adults like to read about other young adults, but we also encourage kids to read books about fighters in the French Revolution, and enslaved people, and old men in any number of settings. So I think books that happen to feature young adult characters can still appeal to and be relevant to readers of any age. Anyway, I love Becky Albertalli. I’ve read almost all her books (except the two that I just discovered on her website) and they are all compassionate and funny and sweet and teach me something about how to be a good and authentic human in a world that doesn’t always reward those traits.
No. 3) Laurie Frankel https://www.lauriefrankel.net/this-is-how-it-always-is.html
When I read this lovely book about a family whose youngest child expresses at age five that they are transgender, it was a couple years before my own child came out as nonbinary. I was inspired to read it because of other trans kids we knew, and the book proved to be sweet, heartbreaking, thought-provoking, and useful. Of course every individual’s story is unique, but unfortunately many of the challenges that gender-expansive kids face are common. I recommend this to anyone who has a child or was a child.
No. 4) Casey McQuiston https://www.caseymcquiston.com/
My daughter and I had the pleasure of seeing Casey McQuiston interviewed on their One Last Stop book tour by their best friend Sasha Peyton Smith and we’ve been smitten ever since. Casey’s books are smart, hilarious, and steamy and I would love to be friends with Casey in real life.
No. 5) Steven Rowley https://www.stevenrowley.com/about
Steven Rowley narrates his own audiobooks in such an engaging and witty way that I expect him to call me on the phone to invite me to brunch at any minute. I adore his writing and his narration and I love how he talks about being gay in the context of family and all kinds of relationships, especially about what it’s like to be a “guncle.”
No. 6) The Civil War of Amos Abernathy https://michaelleali.com
I read this with my nonbinary kid and we both learned a lot. I love books where the kids are smart and are willing to dig deep to show the less open-minded adults in the world what’s really true. Amos Abernathy is an openly gay middle-school-aged historical reenactor whose best friend–also a volunteer there–is a young Black woman. They love history but they also want to shine a light on people whose stories aren’t usually told.
No. 7) Freya Marske https://freyamarske.com
I devoured Marske’s Last Binding trilogy, interestingly recommended to me by my Unitarian Universalist minister. I’ll let Alix Harrow explain why: “Mystery! Magic! Murder! Long looks full of yearning! This book is a confection, both marvelous and light.” —Alix E. Harrow, author of The Once and Future Witches
No. 8) Becky Chambers https://www.otherscribbles.com/about
If you asked me to describe my vision for how the world should work, my hope for how all beings would treat each other, and my philosophy about how I want to live my life, I would hand you a stack of Becky Chambers’ books. Start with A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, which you can read in one sitting, but ideally will reread several times. My Unitarian Universalist minister and I created a whole Sunday service about this book and its companion, A Psalm for the Wild-Built. Just thinking again about Chambers’ characters makes me sigh with contentment.
No. 9) Disco Witches of Fire Island
Several years ago I happened to pick up The Sign for Home, a marvelous, fascinating novel about a college student who is DeafBlind and a Jehovah’s Witness, neither of which comes up a lot in books I’ve read. I’d never heard of Blair Fell before or since, until Disco Witches of Fire Island suddenly appeared. It’s the kind of book that you stay up until 2am to finish, which is what I did last night. The disco witches in question are a delightful group of compassionate, intuitive, and colorful friends who’ve made it their mission to protect unsuspecting young gay men from harm, while also caring for each other through the AIDS crisis and beyond. And of course they do it in spectacular style to a pumping soundtrack.
No. 10) The Miseducation of Cameron Post https://www.emilymdanforth.com/mcp
This book is a beautiful affirmation of identity and the struggle to remain authentic in the face of homophobia and hate. While the book was published 13 years ago, unfortunately the battle rages on between people who support and embrace all gender identities and sexualities and believe that each individual knows themself best and should live their truth vs. the small but virulent faction that fears difference and promotes bigotry, discrimination, and intolerance (and joy and the freedom to love).
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At my Unitarian Universalist church, we have a ritual every Sunday of lighting a candle of compassion, accompanied by a few words of meditation or prayer or our hopes for a better world–whatever you want to call it. Yesterday I served as the lay leader for the service and this is what I wrote when I lit the candle.
Each Sunday we light a candle of compassion for those in our community and around the world who are struggling or suffering. At this moment in history, the number of people who fall into those categories seems to be growing exponentially.
As UUs, we strive to cultivate equity, justice, and generosity, among other essential values. Meanwhile, a lot of people with a lot of power are working hard not only to remove these words from our shared vocabulary, but also to destroy their meaning and manifestation in our society. Which means we need to dig deep for compassion and hold tight to love. Our faith compels us to double down on kindness and refuse to abandon our commitment to our fellow humans.
It’s not always easy, though, as we bear witness day after day to selfishness, callousness, and utter disregard for humanity. So we must start by offering compassion to ourselves. We need to do what it takes to care for ourselves if we are to continue caring for others.
We share our compassion with all people who are isolated, persecuted, marginalized, or abused because of who they are or how they look or where they live or what they believe or their desire to be fully themselves. We hope for them mercy, relief, wholeness, and ease. We extend compassion to those who feel demoralized, devalued, and lost, and wish for them affirmation and encouragement and the understanding that something better is possible.
And, as we begin our celebration of pride month, may we offer our compassion to our LGBTQIA+ siblings and those who support them. We hope for them not just safety and belonging, but also love, and joy. We strive for a world where members of the queer community are not just accepted but authentically embraced.
May we extend compassion to all who need it, including ourselves.
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Listening to the fire wondering what exactly makes the sounds. Do flames make noise? Is it the reaction of the wood? Would it sound different if something else were burning? Trying and failing not to think about the devastation of Los Angeles. Wondering why it can be hard to get a fire you’ve built to catch while houses not intended to be burned seem to ignite so easily.
I didn’t know until yesterday what caused the sudden smoke. Every year when I build this fire it will burn respectfully for hours until without warning the room fills with smoke and the alarm blares and I have to open the windows and the door. I’ve just learned that this happened because of a particular piece of wood I’d added, which was not completely dry inside. What I still don’t know is why the dampness leads to smoke, or why one piece of wood stacked on top of another would be harboring remnants of water and not the piece below it or next to it. Is there a way to look at the wood and know what’s inside? Maybe someone who has spent more time with wood could discern it.
There is so much more I don’t know about the fire. How does the configuration of the logs determine the shape of the conflagration? What role does the oxygen play? Why are the ashes white and gray instead of the color of the wood? Why do the remains of a log look black and then collapse into dust when you poke it? How is the grate unaffected? Or does it eventually break down? This one is broken in part, but still solid enough to hold up the firewood. What makes some things burn and not others–like the grate, the screen, the fireplace tools. If a house burns down, do those pieces made of iron survive? If that is true, why don’t we make more of our existences out of iron? Or would it all eventually melt if left too long alone with the flames?
I think of a friend I used to have who always built the fires when we all went together to a cabin in the mountains. He was proud of his Boy Scout roots and seemed to relish the responsibility. I never asked him how he did it and he never stopped to explain and I thought it was some mysterious formula shared among scouts and certain dads and servants from novels about English aristocrats. There’s such an appeal to reading those books although I can never read them without imagining how awkward it would be to have a cadre of people catering to your whims and doing things for you that the rest of us do for ourselves, like getting dressed, and making dinner, and answering the front door. I think of a young woman wearing an unnecessarily frilly uniform making the rounds of every fireplace in the unnecessarily massive mansion every cold, damp morning, and laying out the kindling and the firewood just so, in case a member of the unnecessarily wealthy family decided to entertain themselves or others in that particular room on that particular day. I think about the classes of people whose money and power were passed down from one generation to the next while so many more others worked to make a living, or struggled to find work, or struggled to make a living.
And this is not unlike today, although many of the details have changed and the props and costumes and sets have changed. We still have the absurdly affluent doing whatever it takes to become more affluent and keep the serving class in poverty and with no choice but to serve or starve, or to serve and starve anyway. For centuries the divide and disgust was undisguised. Then in recent decades, discrimination became more discreet. And now, the curtains have been pulled back, but not to reveal sunshine–instead only darkness. The self-appointed wizards shout without shame that they will not tolerate anyone who is different from them–anyone who is not a straight, white, rich, egotistical man with anachronistic ideas. They will not allow anyone else to flourish, to thrive, to own their worth, to revel in their uniqueness, because if the rest of us claim our power and feel free to share our ideas, their power over us will diminish. Their ideas will be challenged. Their selfishness and greed will no longer be unhindered. They are damning the principles that many of us hold up as the ideals of humanity–the importance of including all because everyone deserves to be included and everyone’s contributions are needed, the theoretically democratic notion that all of us are created equal–possessing inherent worth and dignity–and entitled to treatment as such, and the seemingly simple but historically abused concept that our differences–the endless variations in how we look and act and think and communicate and love and live and move in the world–are extraordinary and awe-inspiring and cause for celebration, not condemnation.
The four cardinals perched in the tree outside this window have gone now. Where, I have no idea. What signals the birds to stop their feeding and flitting is unknown to me. I saw those cardinals as my ancestors, keeping watch or imparting a message I couldn’t quite understand today. But they’ve flown, leaving me to turn my focus back to the fire, gratefully absorbing its warmth while I wonder what happens now.
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Dear World,
Apparently some other voters elected this unfathomably cruel, heartless, short-sighted, ignorant individual to the White House. It’s hard for me to understand why they did this. I voted for Kamala Harris.
Nevertheless, not only my family and friends and many people I know, but millions more who I don’t know are being or will soon be directly and egregiously harmed by the likely illegal actions of the administration in its first two weeks alone. People’s lives will be irrevocably changed. People are going to suffer. People are going to die. Not just liberals or immigrants or queer people, but millions of innocent people across the United States and around the world who are (in many cases unknowingly) being targeted by the dangerous and destructive policies this administration is implementing.
What’s happening is heartbreaking and gut-wrenching. We cannot let this man or his enablers break us. We cannot let them win. It is clear they intend to throw everything they possibly can in our faces until they beat us down. We have to stand tall, and when we fall, help each other up. There’s no panacea for this insipid sickness. There ARE a lot of humans out there committed to doing good in their communities and in the world. There ARE a million little things we can to do care for each other, support people who are doing the hard work, do what we can when we can, and step back and rest when we need to, because that’s just as important.
We are sailing in rough waters through a violent storm. Hold on. Hold on to each other. Cry when you need to cry. Laugh when you can laugh. Find ways to keep creating, building, sheltering, protecting, uplifting, singing, listening, learning, teaching, nurturing, giving, imagining, caring, loving. We need all the energy we can muster. Let your righteous indignation and your holy anger fuel your work. And remember to breathe. We’re going to need stamina for this fight. And snacks. Don’t give up.
If you need me, let me know. If I need you, I will do the same. We need each other to survive. And we will. Together.
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Yesterday I had the privilege of leading the service at UUCA with my friend and fellow worship associate Tommy Lo, featuring insightful reflections from Amy Dryer and Roberta Finkelstein, all on the theme of genuine invitations. Also great music from our new music director, David Mann. We heard people were moved to tears, so we did our job. 🙂 Click the video above to watch the service.
Here is my reflection from the service:
Last week my 11-year-old and I received an unexpected invitation. Our poet friend Regie Cabico called to ask if Niki and I would write poems for an event celebrating the freedom to read. We met Regie last year when he taught a poetry unit to Niki’s class, which unleashed the poet in Niki who we had previously never met. Niki actually won the inaugural poetry slam at their school, and was a finalist in the UU Congregation of Sterling’s poetry slam, where all the other poets were adults, including me.
The Celebration of Reading event was designed to clap back at the rising tide of book bannings, especially books by and about queer people, people of color, people with disabilities, and other identities that are unfathomably threatening to those who love censorship. Apparently some of these folks also feel threatened by great soccer players and cows. One of the books on the table was a little golden book about Argentinian soccer star Lionel Messi. Was it banned by soccer fans who preferred Real Madrid to Barcelona, where Messi spent most of his career? Another banned book was Click Clack Moo: Cows that Type, a long-time favorite in our family, about farm animals who find a typewriter and demand upgrades in their accommodations from the farmer. Perhaps those who want to ban this book fear an uprising from cows who might read it?
Anyway, Regie wanted Niki and me to write about how books have shaped our identities and changed our lives. In my poem I wrote about Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, and thanked Judy Blume for unlocking the mysteries of puberty. I wrote about The Color Purple and thanked Alice Walker for teaching me the universality of tenderness and tenacity. I wrote about The Hate You Give and thanked Angie Thomas for replacing headlines with humanity and empathy.
And I wrote about books featuring queer characters that have opened the world for my family. Here’s one short passage from my poem, about a book called Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston.
Thank you to Esme Symes-Smith
for bringing Callie into our lives.
I’ve never had a wish to be a knight of the realm
or a princess in the palace,
but I have never felt more seen than
reading about how Callie’s dad did his best
to fight for his nonbinary would-be knight
to claim their power
in the old-fashioned
heteronormative kingdom of Helston.
In Niki’s poem, they wrote about times they were criticized for disrupting gender stereotypes, long before they came out as nonbinary. And they wrote about Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, a series by Rick Riordan, which includes a character named Alex Fierro who identifies as gender fluid. Niki wrote that they always knew they were different, but they didn’t have the language to describe how they felt until they read Alex Fierro’s words explaining how they weren’t just a boy or just a girl.
Niki and I read the Magnus Chase books together the summer between their second and third grade years. I had no idea when we started reading them that gender identity would be a major theme in the books, which are largely based on Norse mythology. Although I’ve since learned there is a lot of gender expansiveness in Norse mythology, so it makes sense. I am thankful to Rick Riordan for creating Alex Fierro and giving my kid the vocabulary to articulate their identity.
In the years since Niki came out, I have spent a lot of time educating myself about gender and sexuality and making sure that my kid is surrounded by people who support them and embrace their identity, and the resources they need to grow up healthy and confident as their unique awesome self. When we invite young people to be themselves, we have to actually mean it. We owe it to them to do everything in our power to ensure that their schools and teams and troops and congregations and all the environments they’re in are willing and able to show them they are perfect just as they are.
I also try to make sure other families have the information and connections they need to support their LGBTQIA+ kids. That’s why my friend Tracey and I started a covenant group a few years ago for parents of gender-expansive kids. And why we created QA2: Queer and Questioning, Awareness and Acceptance–an event for LGBTQIA+ young people and their families last year. At last year’s gathering we invited dozens of community organizations to participate so kids and their families could see what resources are available, ask questions, and make connections. We invited a fantastic panel of queer individuals and advocates to speak about their experiences and offer advice.
This year, we’re doing it again, but bigger and better. We’re going to have workshops on gender-affirming care, legal issues, and queer futures. We’re going to have vendors who offer products and services that specifically meet the needs of queer young people. This event is open to the public and we hope to have hundreds of folks from across the DMV coming through our doors, knowing they will be 100% welcomed and supported by everyone we’ve invited to be here.
Which brings me to my invitation to you. We have some fierce mama bears organizing this year’s QA2, but we still need help. If you have connections to LGBTQIA+ friendly service providers, we want to hear about them. If you are part of an LGBTQIA+ organization, we want to hear from you. And even if you don’t have any of these connections, or even know any queer youth, but you want to help, we will absolutely find a job for you. We need people to help organize, and also folks to help with logistics on the day of the event–October 5. If you have any questions or suggestions or want to volunteer, I invite you to talk with me after the service or email me. If you go to the church website and search for QA2 you can find the address to contact me directly.
Like I said before, when we invite someone to come out, we’ve got to make sure they’re coming out into a safe and welcome space. I invite all of us to create that space, and protect it fiercely and unapologetically. May it be so.
Throughout the service we talked about different kinds of invitations. And we created some actual invitations for folks to take with them when they left the service. We invited everyone to take an invitation of their choice for themselves, or for someone else, or both. Accept the invitation, we said, and see what happens. Here are the pages of cards that we cut up and offered to everyone.
Share this:
I am a pitcher pouring cool water into your cup
I am a clock taking its own time
I am a spiral staircase stepping up to the stars
I am the stitching of the quilt that you snuggle underneath
I am a match determined to ignite
I am a curl standing out from the crowd
I am a bear defending every cub
I am the opalescent wings fastened on
so I can fly
I am a rivulet of strawberry ice cream dripping pinkly down the side of a waffle cone
I am a pair of dice rolling the
wrong combinations
I am a broken heart that’s tender to the touch
I am a puddle showing you your reflection
I
I am a pitcher pouring cool water into your cup
I am a clock taking its own time
I am a spiral staircase stepping up to the stars
I am the stitching of the quilt you snuggle underneath
I am a match determined to ignite
I am a curl standing out from the crowd
I am a bear defending every cub
I am the opalescent wings fastened on
so I can fly
I am a rivulet of strawberry ice cream dripping pinkly
down the side of a waffle cone
I am a pair of dice rolling the wrong combinations
I am a broken heart too tender to touch
I am a puddle showing your reflection
I am a third door opening to a different world
I am the sunlit clearing when you emerge from the woods
I am buttery words spilling off the page like tight kernels bursting into hot popcorn
I am sometimes the salt
Share this:
I feel like I’ve been holding it in all summer.
What it is I’ve been holding in, I’m not exactly sure. My breath? My thoughts? My feelings? You know when a writer holds in all those words for a long time it’s not healthy. Eventually they’re going to find a way out.
Maybe there’s an imbalance of words because I have spent so much of my time off this summer reading. I have devoured at least two dozen books. I attended the national gathering of Unitarian Universalists and absorbed ideas and songs and Pittsburgh and ate a lot of food and had a lot of conversations. I’ve returned to church and gotten back up on the chancel as a worship associate and a speaker. I’ve made new friends. I’ve eaten a lot of lunches and taken miles of walks with old friends. I’ve been rebuilding my soccer team–now known as Athena’s Arsenal! I am the only player who remains from the original Ice & Ibuprofen squad that made our debut in 2016. I&I merged last year with a team called Far Gone and we’ve had to recruit a lot of folks to build up our roster. In choosing our new name, someone suggested Tottenham Hotties (a riff on the Premiership team Tottenham Hotspurs) and I countered with Tottenham Hot Flashes, but that didn’t win. Perhaps it’s just a reflection of my personal situation. It turns out I am still not really any good at soccer and I’m not sure why I am playing other than to prove to myself that I can and to give myself the gift of two hours a week when I am not thinking about anything else even if I have to run around in circles while that happens. I am organizing an event through church called QA2: Queer or Questioning, Awareness and Acceptance to provide LGBTQIA+ kids and families with an opportunity to make connections and find resources and support. I’m still trying to teach myself to read tarot. What little I have learned so far has offered insights that given me pause and steered me in new directions with surprising confidence.
I’ve been watching my kids grow up before my eyes. It’s like time-lapse photography of their emotional maturity and ability to navigate the world. Niki can bake on their own from start to finish now after a week at baking camp. At the back-to-school open house, they brought cookies they made and gave them out to all the teachers and staff. At film camp they made a silent film–a dark and modern twist on Hansel and Gretel in which they played Gretel. They discovered a previously unknown talent for an interest in being an emcee after performing that role at the end-of-camp presentation at two different camps. They’ve made all kinds of friends at all these camps and are now immersed in various group chats and FaceTime calls. Niki earned their blue solid belt in martial arts after a long stint as a green solid and a final burst of energy and dedication that enabled them to move up. We’ve attended so many martial arts growth ceremonies and they never fail to move me to tears. Always and especially when there are those kids who struggle to break their boards long after their peers have had their new belts tied on by their instructors, I cheer the hardest. We did a bit of rearranging of their room this summer, taking down drawings they’d made during the pandemic (signed with their old name) and hanging photos of them with animals from our trip to the Houston Zoo, and pride posters, and a picture of Megan Rapinoe with the slogan “Be Proud.” And they are. They own their identity and their uniqueness 100% and I am there for it.
Zoe spent a month away from us at Camp Friendship, her home away from home. This was her eighth and final summer as a camper, and her plan is to return next year as a counselor. I remember when she was little and in martial arts and we’d be at the growth ceremony and I would ask her if she could imagine being a black belt, and for a long time she would shake her head, wide-eyed and in awe, and say no. Until one day she nodded and said yes. It’s been the same way at camp. We always asked her if she would be a counselor some day and she couldn’t see herself having that kind of responsibility, until suddenly she could. She said this summer as a camper, she imagined everything she did as if through a counselor’s eyes, and thought about what it would be like to lead little kids in the activities that she has loved learning so much herself. The first week of camp this year, she didn’t know many campers or counselors, as several of her favorite counselors had moved on to other jobs, and many of her camper friends had aged out. She wrote us saying she was homesick, but didn’t let it keep her from making the most of camp life. As more familiar faces arrived each week and she cultivated the relationships with folks she had just met, everything fell into place, as it always does. The camp has a system where parents can write emails through the parent portal and camp will print them out and give them to the campers, and campers can handwrite messages back and camp will scan them and email them to us. It’s much quicker than snail mail but eliminates the need for campers to have their phones with them at camp (which is one of my and Zoe’s favorite things about camp). I loved having the opportunity to update Zoe on the goings on of life at home (mostly boring, without her!) and hear from her about developments at camp. I wish we had some way of continuing that correspondence at home, even though we’re both in the same house. That’s one reason that I am so happy to be taking road trips with her to visit colleges. We’ve toured a bunch of colleges in Maryland and Pennsylvania and New England so far and have several more up and down the east coast on the calendar for this fall and next spring. I love claiming this time in the car with her, to listen to music and books and talk about anything and everything, and notice weird signs and unusual sights along the way, and stop at little bookstores and find cute coffeeshops with resident cats.
This fall, Niki will practice walking to and from school on their own. We’re going to teach them how to take the bus. Zoe is so close to finishing the requirements to earn her driver’s license. Then she will be given a vintage minivan by her grandparents and will be set loose on the world. We’ve discussed curfews and she has gainful employment. This morning at church it gave me so much joy to watch these four-year-old girls dancing around at the front of the sanctuary during the service. I love four-year-olds. But I don’t wish my kids were younger. Or older. I am so excited to be with them at this exact moment in their lives, where they are learning so much about themselves and about the world. Sometimes, that means seeing how people can be awful and the world is kind of a mess. But sometimes we get to fill it with cookies and music and hugs and laughter and forget about the rest of it for a while.
So I will take in a breath and remember to fully and deeply exhale. All the way from my belly up out into the world. I will take it all it, and release. Because I have to let it go so I can take another breath.
You Ask a Lot of Questions 