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Why I’m Finally Volunteering

For the kids.

To be visible.

To show them what recovery, resilience, and community can look like.

When I was a teenager in the 1990s, I didn’t really have queer role models. I knew about David Wojnarowicz and Andy Warhol, but there wasn’t much beyond that. Pride wasn’t something I imagined myself attending. Being openly queer often felt dangerous. The murder of Matthew Shepard left a lasting impression on me and reinforced a fear that if you were out and proud, you could become a target. That fear sat in my stomach for years and influenced my decision to stay closeted far longer than I wanted to.


And if we’re talking about visibility, it’s worth noticing who was missing. Lesbian representation was limited. Melissa Etheridge and Ellen DeGeneres were among the few names many of us could point to. It’s also worth noticing how overwhelmingly white those public figures were.


As a biracial woman, I rarely saw anyone who looked like me living openly and confidently. I never saw someone standing in the community and saying, “You belong here too.”

So now I want to be that person for someone else.


I want queer kids to see adults showing up for them. I want them to see people of different backgrounds, different identities, and different stories standing together in support. I want them to know they are not alone.


I’m excited to bake a cake for the queer teen support group at the library. I’m excited to greet people at Pride and hand out the colorful bracelets I’ve been making. These may seem like small acts, but visibility is built from small acts repeated over time.


Being visible matters.

Sometimes simply showing up is a revolution.



 
 
 

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