I am sick of Transgender Awareness.
November is a month that has become riddled with our religious allies checking off the box for transgender "issues"—often with a special service that turns the death of transgender women of color into a sort of morbid pageant.
I am a former “sufferer.” Sufferer is a term that David Johnson uses to describe people that experience panic and anxiety. David is a former sufferer and has a clinic in New Zealand to help people that suffer from anxiety and panic attacks.
In the days of my youth, I knew little of the meanings of terms such as the "religious right" and the "liberal left." I was taught to believe in a loving God, and I have begun to understand that this is the greatest fortune of my birth.
Standing amongst the rows of trees I stared across at my partner. She was smiling, grabbing apples from the trees with an excited exclamation as if each one was a new find, a sparkly treasure, with that same childlike wonder that made me first fall in love with her.
My first kiss was with my next-door neighbor—a young boy in my class. It was back when I didn’t know what it meant to be queer, what it meant to be bisexual, what it meant to be trans. We were together under a flagpole at recess, he told me that the previous night was “Hershey’s Kiss” night at his church.
I realized how much I hated myself the day I admitted to myself that I’m trans. I’d never noticed before then the nauseated feeling in my stomach each time I looked in a mirror, or how I never could take compliment without some type of rebuttal, or how much I clamored for attention while looking for the exit at the same time.
It feels like there has been a lot of popular attention paid to the ministry of Pope Francis. Right from the moment he was chosen by the papal conclave, if not before, there was just something so unique about him.
The past few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster as tragic news comes in from every corner of our world.
My child, let your tears fall for the dead, and as one in great pain begin the lament. Lay out the body with due ceremony, and do not neglect the burial.Let your weeping be bitter and your wailing fervent; make your mourning worthy of the departed,then be comforted for your grief.
A non-religious man with an Arabic name walks into a bar and slaughters 50 people. Under a system of white supremacy, all Muslims are implicated. As queer Muslims, we are demanded to be experts on the internal workings of a man whom we have never met, and on what it means for queerness, when all we can be are experts on ourselves.