It’s LGBTQ History Month, so I’m going to celebrate with a series of posts linking to historical stories, including primary sources, that help illuminate the history of LGBTQ parents and our children.
I was going to write something different this morning.
Then a man opened fire on a crowd in Las Vegas, leaving 59 people dead and 520 injured.
Not only is it Banned Books Week, it’s also Ally Week, GLSEN’s annual program “where LGBTQ K-12 students and LGBTQ educators lead the conversation on what they need from their allies in school.” Even those of us already in the LGBTQ community would do well to think about what this means and how we can help. Here are a few things I try to keep in mind.
My family and I took a trip to Disney World a few weeks ago (before the hurricane), an end-of-summer hurrah before our son started high school. The rides and entertainment still retain their magic for us—but on this trip, I was also thinking about how Disney both reflects and influences our society, and what that means in the current era for a queer family like ours.
She always seemed too full of life to ever be gone from it, with her signature scarf and boundless energy—but Edie Windsor, whose case led to the first federal recognition for same-sex couples, died yesterday at the age of 88.
It’s been hard to miss the many news articles in the last 24 hours about President Trump revoking the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program. Here are some places, however, where you can more deeply explore the personal stories of those affected by DACA to better understand what its end will mean.
President Trump has, as expected, revoked the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program, putting at risk nearly 800,000 immigrant youth and their families. As the granddaughter and great-granddaughter of immigrants myself, I see this as one more shameful act of the Trump administration.
As a child, there were two things I thought were unfathomable and absolutely morally wrong: nuclear war and Nazis. To see both in the news again as real threats to our country sickens and appalls me. But while nuclear war felt like a broad threat against all humanity, Nazism felt more personal. It was hate largely directed against a group—Jews—of which I was part. (It was only later in life that I added “queer” to that list as well.)
Can the gap between hater and hated ever be bridged? Writer, performer, and video maker Dylan Marron asks that question in a new podcast in which he converses with those who have sent him hate mail. It offers us all some useful lessons.
The recent events in Charlottesville—and the ongoing struggle our country has with racism and other forms of oppression—underscore the importance of raising children who are accepting and inclusive of all, and have the strength to stand against the actions of those who are not. Here are a few reading ideas.
