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I& #39;m so grateful that I get to be a Queer Elder for a bunch of folks right now. It& #39;s seriously wonderful. And it& #39;s a pretty specific thing within the community - one I realized folks who aren& #39;t queer might not even know about. So. Thread. CW: violence, suicide, queerphobia (1/16)
One of the weirdest things about the identities under our umbrella is that most of us are born into families that don& #39;t share them. We don& #39;t grow up with our own history or models for how to be who we are. We might see hints, but most of us aren& #39;t raised in the culture. (2/16)
So a really common experience is figuring some shit out by yourself pretty early in adolescence, then a few years of trying to decide what it means, who to tell... Then a coming out process - often pretty painful. We lose our families of origin, often, for a while. (3/16)
The timing varies, but this all gets mixed up in adulthood transition. Ages 16-22 or so, especially. So we& #39;re trying to figure out how to be independent adults, and what it means to be queer, and how to be ourselves. Without a damn map. Usually without family support. (4/16)
So there& #39;s an expectation - a strong one - that those of us who have created some stability for ourselves will support the young ones, or the not-so-youngs who are new to their identities. We remember the people who helped us out, and we hand it on. (5/16)
I say Queer Elder but it actually starts pretty damn young - when I was 20 I had a homeless teenager sleeping on my couch. I had been a homeless teenager the year before. We& #39;re family to each other. But it& #39;s not just that stuff - keeping each other off the streets - (6/16)
-we model how to be who we are. We share cultural history; we tell the stories & jokes of our people. We connect kids to community. This part of coming out is really coming IN - finding this huge rich history and community, not always perfect, but YOURS. It& #39;s so cool. (7/16)
And if we do it right, newer folks know where they came from; they know why we struggle; they know that we, as a family, as a community, can be inclusive and invitational and tight-knit and fierce and diverse and beautiful and PROUD.
We don& #39;t always do it right. I try. (8/16)
We don& #39;t always do it right. I try. (8/16)
Now that I& #39;m over 40, it& #39;s even better - because I can give people the approval of a parental figure. I can tell them they& #39;re perfect as they are, and I can see something in them healing.
Too many of us are rejected, still, by our families of origin. That wound is deep. (9/16)
Too many of us are rejected, still, by our families of origin. That wound is deep. (9/16)
This week was awful for me in some ways. But I got to play Queer Elder to a stranger - to a kid in an unsafe situation, who at least has one outlet now, who is going to be okay. I got to spend my stimulus money on binders, playing Trans Binder Fairy. I got to... (10/16)
...tell kind of a lot of young people that they& #39;re worthy, and loved, and that I& #39;m not a saint, I& #39;m just a person who was loved like this too. It& #39;s a ridiculous joy and honor to be able to help, and to earn their trust, and to be able to give something of myself. (11/16)
Wow, I can really go on. Thing is, there& #39;s more to this story. I mentioned I was a homeless queer youth, right? Let me tell you something about some of the people who helped. Specifically, a pair of gay men who just - out of nowhere - paid my rent for a couple of months. (12/16)
It would be a lovely story, except it was the late 1990s, and they were gay men. They& #39;re gone now. All the men who were like fathers to me in our community died. They were beautiful and loving and AIDS took them away. They& #39;re part of why I& #39;m everyone& #39;s dad, now. (13/16)
So now you& #39;re like, okay, but why bring that up? And it& #39;s because those are the stories we learn when we come into community. Our grief - not just that one, but the many griefs we all carry. All our murdered queers of color. All our homeless children. (14/16)
All the ones we lose to despair, because they don& #39;t have Family and can& #39;t see a future. Almost me.
So when I say it& #39;s an honor and a joy to be a Queer Elder, I mean: every damn one of you is my sibling or my child, if you want to be, and I will walk through fire for you. (15/16)
So when I say it& #39;s an honor and a joy to be a Queer Elder, I mean: every damn one of you is my sibling or my child, if you want to be, and I will walk through fire for you. (15/16)
I will share your grief and your joy. I will buy you a damn binder, if I have money. If I have a place to live, so do you. If I can eat, so can you. Every tiny way I can connect means I& #39;m alive, and here, and so are you. And nothing, nothing, means more to me than that. (fin)
