Results for: a-camp
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How Queer YA Novels Taught Me to Write My Own Happy Ending
Maybe, she finds herself thinking, there could be space for joy in this new life. Maybe, she dreams, as she finishes the last page and immediately starts the book over again, this is not so hopeless after all.
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The Illusion Of Safety
I don’t want to be caught parading around in last generation’s false sense of security. I’m kicking off Autostraddle’s first Asian Pacific Islander American (APIA) Heritage month by exploring the values my own South Asian and Japanese American parents and grandparents imparted to me, to learn to carry them forward.
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Such Softness in the Harsh World
Stacy asked what she could do, how she could help, all she wanted to do was be useful, and I said nothing, nothing, I’ve got everything under control. And so she held me on the nights I was pretending to be able to sleep and whispered “I’ll take care of you” over and over without ever expecting an answer.
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I’m Just A Small-Town Lesbian Wearing Flannel, Building Community
“But for change to happen, for the community I want to grow, someone has to stay. Someone has to wear the flannel not just because of its function.”
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The Story of “No”
This year, from April 20th until June 12th, I made some variation of “no” my Facebook status every day. It was just something I found vaguely funny but by the end it was something that I could count on for strength.
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One Year Ago, A Gunman Opened Fire On Our Car
Around 4:20 a.m. on May 26, an armed gunman pulled up beside us and opened fire on our vehicle… the bullet shattered my phone, took out a chunk of my left wrist, and knocked out a dozen of my teeth.
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For All The Girls I Loved Before I Knew I Could
Kelly cut off all her hair and started dating Katie. I started chasing around after a guy who looked like Ellen DeGeneres and trying to make sense of the mess in my brain.
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Before You Know It Something’s Over
“He didn’t feel any pain. He died instantly.” That was how she told me that my father was dead. I was 14.
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It’s A Boy*!
It’s a boy, until and unless he tells us otherwise, I thought. It’s a boy who will be raised without gender roles. It’s a boy who will be defined by their heart and mind, not by the organs that happen to be between their legs. It’s a boy who will be loved wholly, deeply, and completely by the two women who created him.
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The Second to Last Woman I Loved
“The truth is always messy. I told myself I could be gay and I wouldn’t ever be hurt again. I needed to never be hurt again.”
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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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It’s More Fun When We’re Co-Conspirators
“Her hair is like another person. Today it’s two braids.”
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I Don’t Have An Expiration Date and Neither Do You: How I Learned to Have the Best Day Ever
Though I lived my life truly believing I had an expiration date, I made the decision that I deserved one last day that would be the best day of my life. I figured I owed it to myself.
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Race, Class and White People’s Beach Houses: On Talking to Privileged People About Privilege
“The observation of white people actually grappling with ideas of class amongst each other empowers me, but it empowers me even more when I know they’re having the same conversation even when I’m NOT in the room.”
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Ten Things I Wish I’d Known When I Started My Transition
Ten lessons I wish I’d known when I started hormones in February 2011, and why I’m taking an indefinite break from the internet.
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Coming Out: Yet Another Roundtable
“Coming out never ends, and for some of you it hasn’t even begun.”
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Coming Out As An Amorphous Weirdo
“It wasn’t until I kissed the second girl that even my therapist at the time laughed at me and told me maybe it was time to accept that my sexuality was not as cut-and-dry as I’d always imagined.”
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On Gender, Girlhood, and Norman Rockwell
A decade before Rosie, Rockwell was painting the girls who were destined to become riveters.
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Five Small Contributions: On Being A Queer Person of Color
We wanted to sit down and share stories with you around this virtual campfire to somehow express one little piece of what it means to be queer and a person of color in this crazy, crazy world.
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How The South Made Me A Queer Feminist
In the rural South, the word “tomboy” is basically a euphemism for “She’s genderqueer, and she may or may not grow out of it. Hell if we know.”