Allies

Jani-Markus Häsä / Alamy Stock Photo

Hey friends. As we settle into 2024 and all its newness, many of us are seeing an unprecedented volume of anti-trans and anti-queer legislation across the United States. 2023 seemed like a rough start, too, but 2024 is already well ahead of that pace. This can be a frightening time for queer and trans individuals and families. TransFriend is a safe space to express those thoughts and fears. To keep it a safe space, I do not allow hateful comments. This is a space for kindness. I’m so glad you’re here with me.

There’s the occasional sentiment in marginalized communities that allies aren’t worth the trouble. That we don’t need them, that they weigh us down and create problems. That allies can never understand who we are and what our struggles are really about.

That shit makes me cringe.

But so do the ways in which “being an ally” can be performative or used against a community.

I know that there is no one right answer, just like humans are mixed bags of thoughts, emotions, and actions. I know that it can be tough to abide the mistakes that others make, even if their intentions are good. I also know that marginalized communities have small voices against the mainstream tide, and allies help us be seen and heard.

So today I’m writing to all of the allies in this community and beyond. This is for you. It’s also for the rest of my queer and trans community members. Really, it’s for all of us.

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Our numbers are small. Maybe WE are not small, maybe there are hundreds of thousands of us, but even together, even as a mass of bodies and minds and voices, it’s tough to be heard over the millions, the billions who are not us.

But you hear us.

We don’t take up space. We weren’t trained to. We were actively trained NOT to. Our elbows ache from pushing and forcing our way into places that uninvite us. We’re covered in bruises from these types of fights, the kind that nobody knows about or cares about or sees at all. They don’t even feel us pushing.

But you make space for us.

We are disconnected. So many of us are craving family and connection and unity and togetherness. We’ve walked away from family. We’ve been kicked out. We ran away as kids. We’ve been divorced and left and abandoned. We learned how to survive on our own. We looked in the mirror and chanted over and over that “we are the only ones ever to be this.” Some of us built family of our own, cobbled together with friends and spouses and children and pets. Some of us spent money we didn’t have to become mothers and fathers and parents and guardians.

But you have become our families.

Our cause is rife with challenges. States and countries and hateful figures legislate to remove us, to erase us, to make us illegal and immoral in the letter of the law.

But you stand with us. And you vote with us.

Sometimes we get tired. Fighting is a lot of work, and we have to fight to breathe, to stay employed, to get healthcare, to be recognized as human beings, to be loved, to stay alive. It’s exhausting. Our throats are sore from screaming, our bodies are tired from standing up, our minds are tired from defending our every action and need.

And when we need a nap, you keep the fire going.

We know that you aren’t exactly like us. We know that there are some aspects of who we are that you cannot understand because you can’t feel what it’s like to be us. And between one another it’s easy for frustration to build because of those differences.

But remember.

Remember that I made mistakes.

Remember that I was awkward, that I screwed up, that I said things I regret.

Remember that I stood beside my trans siblings before I understood that I was one of them.

Remember that I was once an ally.

If you are a queer and trans ally, this space is for you. I’m happy you’re here, even if you make mistakes and are not perfect. That part makes you beautiful. And if one day you should wake up and recognize yourself to be more than an ally, just like I once did, remember the winding path you took to get to this place, and keep that road open for the next person behind you.

Your trans friend,

Robin