“Everything that needs to be changed feels immense and immeasurable.”
— Celeste Ng, Our Missing Hearts
In pairs, two-by-two, they spun across the tiny dance floor. I was sweating through my shirt at a gay bar in East Portland, learning to two-step at a monthly gay line dance. I took a step back and leaned against the bar to take it all in. Around me were young punks and old-timers, everyone wearing their Country Western best: tight jeans, bolo ties, denim vests, cowboy hats over salt-and-pepper hair. The dance turned into a promenade, where couples take each other’s hands and step side-by-side, both facing forward. Couples paraded past me, their faces marked with deep smile lines, their eyes lit up and laughing. How long had some of these people been dancing together? 10 years? 20 years? 30? Suddenly my chest was tight and my eyes stung. This country has tried in every way to destroy queerness. Queer and trans people have been deemed illegal. Imprisoned. Ignored. Our lives have been banned from history books and teen novels. We’ve been stigmatized, harassed, threatened, condemned, and killed. And still. Here we are dancing. Hands papery with age held each other tight as they formed a circle and twirled.
The news is not good. Every day, there’s a story of politicians attacking the mere existence of trans people. They ban trans people from sports, from schools, from libraries, from bathrooms, from legislatures, all in an attempt to stop the world from moving forward, to erase trans and queer people altogether. If you read the news, you might think that being trans and queer means a life of constant suffering, a life hemmed in by threats and violence. And that violence is real. But something I’ve never heard from mainstream news is this reality: Being trans and queer is wonderful. It’s healing. Even as pundits and politicians want to destroy us, trans and queer people are out here living joyful lives. All around me, I see my friends hosting dinner parties, admiring trees, adopting cats, making art, making out, starting esoteric synth bands, protesting, yelling at cops, tipping bartenders, sleeping in, and dancing wildly.
Homophobic and transphobic legislation makes our lives more stressful and dangerous. But it will never win in making us cease to exist. There are people out on a dance floor somewhere right now who fell in love back when being gay was a crime, who named themselves even when society called their very existence a sin.
I was looking for the words to write about the complexity of these joyful and painful feelings when I went to a poetry reading last night. It’s the release of trans and queer poet Abhainn Connolly’s first collection, deadname, and the small, warm room was full of sweet, loving people. Abhainn read a poem about grappling with what words to use to describe their identity—when they fell in love with a trans person, the title of “lesbian” no longer seemed quite right. They wrote:
“All I know of who I am is through the ones I’ve loved. I have no idea if I can live up to the person I’ll learn I am from you, but I will call myself anything that holds us both fully. So what does this make me now, if not a lesbian? More. A throat of birds. Neck nest. The words I say fly, they become. How would I not name myself from how I feel about you? For this is what I know: your mouth ignites this chirping heart, and that song is what I am.”
Upcoming Events
May 20 - Vancouver Comics Arts Festival // With my friend Audra McNamee, I’m slinging comics, prints, and stickers to Canadians this weekend at VanCAF. Stop on by! This is a free comics festival at Vancouver, BC’s Roundhouse Community Center, 10am-5pm. It’s Saturday and Sunday, but I’m just going to table Saturday so that I can get out and explore Vancouver for a day.
June 17 - Book Release with Mattie Lubchansky // My way-too-funny cartoonist friend Mattie has a new book out: Boy’s Weekend. It’s a darkly funny sci-fi thriller about a transfemme person getting stuck at a weekend-long bachelor party on a dystopian casino island. We’ll be talking about the books and comics-making in general at Books With Pictures (1401 SE Division), June 17, 4pm
July 20 - Queer Country Bike Ride // I know this is still two months away, but I just want to give you time to get your costume together. My friend Becky and I led this bike ride celebrating queer country music, fashion, and camp last year and it was a big hit. This year it’ll be Shania Twain themed. Let’s go, girls!
Stuff I Made
Marea Verde Rising - For The Nib’s Color issue, I reported this comic about how abortion-rights activists started using the color green for their campaigns. The “green wave” spread from Argentina across Latin America and is now needed in the U.S. more than ever. The comic is illustrated by Brazilian artist Laura Athayde, so is incredibly rad. Read the comic at The Nib.
Piece-By-Piece: How I Found a Wedding-Guest Outfit to Match My Gender - I wrote and drew this personal comic for The Washington Post about my quest to find a fancy outfit that makes me feel good. It’s paywalled here or you can read it here for free.
“Gnomon” Poetry Comic - Also for The Washington Post, to mark National Poetry Month, editor Shikha Subramaniam asked me to illustrate a new poem by poet Diana Goetsch. This is paywalled, but you can read it here if you have a WaPo subscription.
Stuff I Love
Landback Art Billboards - Stand in awe of this amazing series by numerous Native artists. This particular billboard is by Cannupa Hanska Luger and is installed in Mandan, ND.
Museum of Museums - I got to stop in the amazing Museum of Museums (MoM) while in Seattle a couple weeks ago. This is a new-ish artist-led contemporary art center in First Hill that’s entirely filled with interesting and fresh art installations. A very cool fiber arts show (“Soft Touch”) was up when I visited, which is where the photo at the top of this newsletter is from. Soft Touch is up until August 31 and I 100% recommend it.
Loops - Many of my friends recently started wearing these cute colorful earplugs, so I bought some too. I’m in love. Now I wear them in coffee shops, at dance nights, when I’m falling asleep… It's just very handy to have great little comfy earplugs.
This dad-appreciation comic by Brooke Barker - Brooke is the author of Sad Animal Facts, and this is a very sweet comic about a human animal.
Queer Soup Night - My favorite food is soup and my favorite thing to do is eat soup with friends. In April, I joined my talented chef friend Risa to become the volunteer coordinator for Portland’s Queer Soup Night, which is an event where three local, queer chefs make soup and everyone donates to eat the soup and hang out. At our event in April, we raised $1,400 for LGBTQ youth nonprofit SMYRC! Queer Soup Night is a national thing, so see if there’s an event near you.
Perfect radish hat - I’m putting Molly Costello’s perfect radish hat in here because it’s a crucial part of my summer uniform and literally every time I wear it, people compliment it. So it’s a great hat for people who love compliments.
Plantasia - My friend Tuck introduced me to this incredible album that a guy named Mort made in 1976 specifically for his plants to listen to. It turns out humans also like this music.
A book royalties calculator - People often ask me about book publishing advice—specifically about whether publishing a book is a viable source of income. The finances of book publishing are incredibly confusing and the amount of money an author makes is usually quite small. To demystify this, author Hana Lee created this nifty royalties calculator. If you’re curious about book world finances, check it out.
Dyke Hoops - One possibly secret thing about me is I love playing non-competitive basketball and have for YEARS been searching for a way to play pickup with people who will not yell at me. I’m really glad to have recently found out about Dyke Hoops, a queer basketball meetup group here in Portland.
Neighborhood Cat Newsletter - I was biking in SE Portland and made a full U-turn when I caught sight of this newsletter stapled to a telephone pole. I love that someone would take the time to document the dramatic lives of their local street cats.
What I’m Reading
Our Missing Hearts - I’m fully obsessed with Celeste Ng’s engrossing new book about a near-future America where thousands of children have been taken away from their parents as a tool of political coercion. It feels so much like a book I would want to write.
Women’s House of Detention - This is such a crucial history of incarceration, queerness, and race in New York City by historian Hugh Ryan. The book tells the true story of a Greenwich Village prison that held women, transgender men, and gender non-conforming people for decades.
Stone Fruit - I picked up this graphic novel by artist Lee Lai and literally could not put it down. The story of creating family and building romantic relationships drew me in immediately, it’s so gorgeous.
A Living Remedy - Of course I’ll read anything by the brilliant Nicole Chung and her new book about grieving the deaths of her parents feels like one I want to share with all my friends.
Something to Do
Reward yourself for saying no
The weather has been sunny and warm recently. To prepare for a long day of good weather, my friend Jenni and I wrote a list of “perfect sunny day activities.” At the top of the list: Protect free time at all costs. I’m a person who chronically over-works and over-commits, so I’ve been really trying to say “no” to extraneous jobs and opportunities in order to focus on what I want to be doing. My friend Taylor Feldman made these wonderful “no” punchcards and I like the concept a lot—saying no to things is difficult for me, so an ice-cream reward is good motivation.