I am tired. I am tired of violence in the news. I am tired of defending my existence, of having the
same conversations over and over about “pronouns this and pronouns that.” We are getting
gunned down and all you do is flash your rainbow “ally” badge and have yet another
conversation about including pronouns in your email signature, all while misgendering me in the
process.

When it comes to real talk of change; of teaching children about identity that’s inclusive of
gender diversity and sexuality, your body tenses. “Our community is not ready for this yet.
Maybe next year.” You are the gatekeeper who decides at what capacity we exist, and that is
wrong. Hints of us exist on your website. We are in your equity statement. We are hidden in
language like, “diversity” and “belonging”. In strategic plans and anti-bullying policies. Yet, we
are invisible everywhere else where it matters like classrooms and curriculum. Your equity
statements and social justice committees are selective of who they include. Cherry picking who
is included is the antithesis of this work. You tout the analogy of “mirrors, windows, and sliding
glass doors”, yet all you want to see is yourself.
What are you afraid of?

If anything, we are the ones who should be afraid. We have been under attack for centuries;
between policing how we look…how we act…who we love…
Today, this still exists on both an individual level and at a larger scale. Anti-trans legislation
continues to pass all over the world, and there are countries that refuse to allow us to exist. And
yet, we persist. We still go out. We teach. We party. We express our radical love through our art
and our chosen families. We thrive and celebrate joy in spite of the hate that you perpetuate.
We are not afraid, but you are.

You are afraid of children's books. You are afraid of graphic novels. You’re afraid of using
pronouns, of drag shows, of freedom of expression. You are afraid of the endless possibilities
that we represent, of the love we represent. Everyday we suffer as victims of violence. And I yet
I am not allowed to read a book with a transgender child as its protagonist. How dare I correct
you when you misgender me. How dare I defend myself against the onslaught of your passive
aggression. How dare I exist.

Queer children exist in every single classroom, yet they rarely see themselves reflected in the
books and curriculum taught to them. Suicidality is several times higher in Queer youth than cis
heterosexual youth, and that is because of your inaction. Your inaction is violence. We are dying
while you are sitting in your office telling us which books we can and cannot read, which topics
we can and cannot talk about. Power hoarding and gatekeeping are rooted in white supremacy.
What are you afraid of?

Your fear is violence. It is because we cannot read our books or tell our stories or exist in
classrooms that these shootings occur. You spread your fear, and so others are afraid. They act
on this fear with violence. Others are not given the opportunity to explore the infinite ways of
being in this world. Their ignorance, the ignorance that you perpetuate, makes them fearful of
the unknown. It’s the reason why so many young people die of suicide. It’s the reason why our
spaces and our communities are under assault.

We are both the same, you know. We have both experienced gendered trauma in our lives. I
would wager that we both grew up being forced onto gendered norms which we did not consent
to. We were ascribed a role we did not choose. Many of us grow older and continue this path.
There is no shame in that. But why silence others who travel a different path? Is our difference
so harmful to you? Free yourself of this burden of fear and join us in our love and liberation.