As a queer/disabled/mentally ill non-binary person: I'm still here, and that's something. I'm still cooking meals for my family and friends, and that's something. I'm still proud of my work and try to keep doing better, and that's something.
And for all of you reading here, folks I know and folks I don't: you're still here, and I'm grateful for you, and that's something.
One way I try to be the light is to use the extra room in my budget to give that money away to folks who need it more than I do. I do this both via charities and via direct giving, on the internet and otherwise.
This isn't actually something I was doing much of prior to November 2016, but it certainly has helped me feel like I'm doing at least something.
This coming November will be my fourth Planniversary. I went to bed later than I should on November 7, 2016 knowing I had to do more than I had been to make the kind of world I wanted, if I wanted to be the kind of person I thought I was. The volunteer coordinator for Planned Parenthood of Greater Texas was the first to respond to the volley of emails I sent out the next morning looking for opportunities to get involved, and we've gone on from there.
Sometimes fighting for reproductive justice in Texas feels like spitting into the wind or screaming into the void, but I'm still here, and that's something.
Since November 2016, I've been volunteering at a local day care. It is part and parcel of an organization that supports, houses, and educates teen/young mothers, interfaces with the local immigrant community, and helps these groups navigate the various agencies that can help them. The day care is also open to the broader community, so the 'student' body reflects my (most diverse in the nation) city.
I'm there every Friday, helping cuddle, feed, play, and nurture 3-18 month olds.
Sometimes, it feels like it's nothing in the face of all this. And sometimes it feels like it's all I can muster. But every child deserves love and a head start.
I'm tearing up reading the end of this piece. <3
As a queer/disabled/mentally ill non-binary person: I'm still here, and that's something. I'm still cooking meals for my family and friends, and that's something. I'm still proud of my work and try to keep doing better, and that's something.
And for all of you reading here, folks I know and folks I don't: you're still here, and I'm grateful for you, and that's something.
One way I try to be the light is to use the extra room in my budget to give that money away to folks who need it more than I do. I do this both via charities and via direct giving, on the internet and otherwise.
This isn't actually something I was doing much of prior to November 2016, but it certainly has helped me feel like I'm doing at least something.
This coming November will be my fourth Planniversary. I went to bed later than I should on November 7, 2016 knowing I had to do more than I had been to make the kind of world I wanted, if I wanted to be the kind of person I thought I was. The volunteer coordinator for Planned Parenthood of Greater Texas was the first to respond to the volley of emails I sent out the next morning looking for opportunities to get involved, and we've gone on from there.
Sometimes fighting for reproductive justice in Texas feels like spitting into the wind or screaming into the void, but I'm still here, and that's something.
Since November 2016, I've been volunteering at a local day care. It is part and parcel of an organization that supports, houses, and educates teen/young mothers, interfaces with the local immigrant community, and helps these groups navigate the various agencies that can help them. The day care is also open to the broader community, so the 'student' body reflects my (most diverse in the nation) city.
I'm there every Friday, helping cuddle, feed, play, and nurture 3-18 month olds.
Sometimes, it feels like it's nothing in the face of all this. And sometimes it feels like it's all I can muster. But every child deserves love and a head start.