Results for: be the change
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She Never Liked Me Anyway
Dementia used to be called madness, I was told.
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Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be (Lesbian) Cowboys
“I wanted her to smile at me that way. I wanted her to say my name. This turned out to be easy.”
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Line Breaks for Resistance: How Black Poetry Lets Us Rescue Ourselves
If Alice Walker once said “hard times require furious dancing,” then hard times call for reading poetry, particularly black poets. Follow zaynab’s journey in reconnecting with black poetry as a means of daily survival and understand why reading the work of black poets can enhance our collective understandings of what it means to cultivate and sustain resistance.
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How Whitney Houston Taught Me the Greatest Love of All For My Queer Black Self
My journey to self-love through the influence of Whitney Houston’s life and music.
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Shoulder Pads and Short Cuts: How Grace Jones Made Me Powerful
A love letter to the only woman that stole my heart and snatched my scalp at the same damn time.
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Queer Latinx Love is Resistance: A Collection of Vignettes
“There’s nothing more I want to remember than every moment and sensation we shared. Our grinding hips at Queer Cumbia, feeling your drunken sweat drip onto my freshly implanted tits. The way we sloppily made out and smeared our red and burgundy lips all over our mouths, noses, forehead, and neck.”
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Birth of The Nintendo Generation
It was the end of my innocence when I realized that being Black or being Queer in this country could get you killed. This was the time before Hurricane Katrina, before 9/11, before Ferguson. Before. Before. Before.
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Leaving It on the Court: When My World Changed, Sports Stayed
My teammates didn’t know that I was ending my run in this men’s league because I had to leave my male identity on the court.
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Identity Theft: A Trans* Intersex Woman On Traumas and Surgery
“It’s unfortunate, unfair and illogical that intersex people get assigned a gender and a sex and are expected to either stick with them or fix someone else’s mistake with expensive, risky surgery on their genitals.”
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Transitioning While Genderqueer (Despite the Standards of Care)
“It would have been nice to share my entire truth with her, but because of the Standards of Care, I didn’t; I feared my story would be seen as diverging from the typical trans* narrative too much.”
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I Had Facial Feminization Surgery
“I paid a dude to knock me unconscious, peel back my face, and cut out chunks of my skull and jaw.”
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The Incredibly True Story Of How Cissexism Made My Same-Sex Marriage Legal
Thanks to a simple governmental regulation, my wife and I were able to exploit a legal loophole and obtain a federally recognized marriage.
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Unwritten On The Body
As with the meaning of written text, our bodies float somewhere between the author (ourselves) and the reader (those we encounter).
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“And I Do Mean All My Life”: A Trans* Coming Out Letter
For anyone who’s ever wanted to say it in a letter.
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Leaving a Mark on the American Heartland With My Solo Queer Trans* Woman Roadtrip
“This past year of my transition, 2012, has been one of road travel with many miles revisited across numerous American states… Not the least of my concerns was driving my friend Xene’s unfamiliar Prius. Yet, my larger concern was driving solo as a woman.”
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Clicks on a Keyboard: Dungeons, Dragons, and Trans-Feminism
This begins with me already being a feminist, but ends with me making peace with being a woman.
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Trans and Schizophrenic: When Diagnosis Impacts Transition
If he had read my medical records he would have known that my first psychotic break was exacerbated by my fear that I would never be recognized as a woman.
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On Camp: Confessions Of A Very Unhappy Camper
Activities include eating mystery meat, re-enacting the holocaust, performing 15-minute Shakespeare adaptations on a cart, writing in my diary, and crying. Mostly crying.
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I Was A Baby Queer at Bible Camp
“The summer after I turned thirteen, I decided that exactly two things needed to happen in order for my life to matter: I needed Rosie Collins to like me, and I needed my parents to send me to Bible Camp.”
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Going Mad in New York City
“I feel like yelling at people,” she told me. I didn’t really grasp then that she meant that. This was the very first time. This was the day after Easter.