Thanksgiving 2011 was the first time my mother met her eldest son.
“You don’t have to say anything... just know... if you are gay the guys in the troop are still your friends and are with you.”
Every year, I try my damnedest to get excited for the holidays. I really do. I listen to holiday music for .5 seconds, consider buying the packaged eggnog at the local grocery, and panic about the gifts I haven't bought—usually to no avail.
The season of Advent guides us on a journey from darkness to light, from recognizing our great need for God to finding God’s love born in a manger.
Hi, my name is Izek, and I identify as a bi-racial queer transman (FTM). Most importantly, I identify as a Christian.
I have had positive and negative experiences coming out as transgender. Luckily, I already had supportive friends, family, and church community.
Since I was about seven or eight years old, I knew that I was not like other boys; I couldn’t throw “like a boy,” I cried easily; I wasn’t competitive. I knew deep down that I didn’t fit the “boy” pattern no matter how much I tried. Much as I wanted to please my dad, I couldn’t see well enough to catch a ball, much less hit one tossed by a pitcher.
When I was 15, my parents took me to the basement of a church in my western hometown for “therapy.”
Five years ago, at Christmas, I went home for the holidays and announced to my family that I was planning on going to seminary. For the most part, my family was excited and supportive of my decision to pursue ordained ministry, but a few were resistant.
The Lakota creation story has the People springing forth from a hole in the ground somewhere in the Black Hills. That idea resonates with me, perhaps because there are many holes in what I know about my heritage. A hole in the ground is as good a place as any; I am very rooted to the Earth, and connected to the animals, the rocks, and the forests.