I think the genius of this piece is it invites you to restructure with each reading. To see things in a new way. The idea that we reclaim ourselves and being Queer, that it is no longer a playground taunt speak so deeply and simply to the heart of the matter, that now today it is Life and Death. Profoundly moving. Thank you for sharing.
you took the word fierce and slipped it into the everyday, where it belongs. Not just shouted or sharp, but laughed, reclaimed, texted, whispered, side-eyed and survived. I felt the rhythm of this, the layered invitation in it—queerness not as spectacle, not as slur, but as presence. As voice.
This piece reminds me: being trans, being queer, being you—is not a punchline, not a phase, not a threat.
It’s a lineage. A becoming. A mirror held up to the world asking softly, did you really think we wouldn’t write back?
Hell yes.
I think the genius of this piece is it invites you to restructure with each reading. To see things in a new way. The idea that we reclaim ourselves and being Queer, that it is no longer a playground taunt speak so deeply and simply to the heart of the matter, that now today it is Life and Death. Profoundly moving. Thank you for sharing.
Reclaiming QUEER has been an interesting, and necessary phenomenon to me. Thanks Robin. Fondly, Michael
Robin—
you took the word fierce and slipped it into the everyday, where it belongs. Not just shouted or sharp, but laughed, reclaimed, texted, whispered, side-eyed and survived. I felt the rhythm of this, the layered invitation in it—queerness not as spectacle, not as slur, but as presence. As voice.
This piece reminds me: being trans, being queer, being you—is not a punchline, not a phase, not a threat.
It’s a lineage. A becoming. A mirror held up to the world asking softly, did you really think we wouldn’t write back?
Thank you, fierce friend.
With deep respect,
Jay 🦁