Someone I Love is Trans

So many people to love.

Dear friends,

Someone I love is trans. Someone I love is gay. Someone I love has brown skin. Someone I love is black. Someone I love is Indigenous. Someone I love is Jewish. Someone I love is Muslim. Someone I love is Palestinian. Someone I love is Somali. Someone I love is unhoused. Someone I love is struggling to make ends meet.

Everywhere we look, another group is under attack from increasingly cruel governmental leaders and their hateful followers who either don't give a shit about these people, or are targeting them outright. These innocent people who are facing very real danger every day just for being who they are (gee, this feels familiar) require a lot of forms of support from us right now, not the least of which is our love. When governing bodies and people in power are spreading hateful lies about a specific demographic, creating dangerous laws, restricting access to life-saving care, and stirring up deep rooted prejudice, we need to double down on letting these folk know how loved they are. This is when we let those in power know that our love is stronger than their hate.

I've been wrestling with this week's newsletter, wondering how to avoid sounding like a broken record, a nagging parent, harassing y'all to keep stepping up, keep resisting even though we're all bone tired and completely overwhelmed. I've been wavering between wanting to gently say, "take a rest, only do what you can, it'll be alright in the end", and screaming that the house (world) is on fire and we can't afford for anyone to sit this one out. When fascism is on the rise (and it really is), we need to fight it from all the angles. I figure throwing our love where it's needed is something we can all manage. Even when we don't have the wherewithal to march, write, call, or protest, we all know how to love.

As the mother of a trans kid...

When my kiddo came out as trans just before their 14th birthday, my first thought was "Thank goodness we live in Victoria!" Sure enough, our family's journey through our kiddo's transition was relatively smooth sailing. We all received the support we needed to help our brave, beautiful child grow into the person they knew they really were. Thanks to our progressive provincial government (they may be on the wrong environmental path, but they are fierce allies of trans youth, for which I am extremely grateful), my kid received all their medical support for free. The endocrinologist and his team at BC Children's Hospital were truly amazing - professional, kind, compassionate - every step of the way. This, of course, is how it should be for trans youth and their families everywhere.

I am absolutely sickened by the US House of Reps voting in favour of MTG's bill to criminalize gender affirming care for youth. Personally, every move to destroy trans rights feels like a gut punch as I think of how this must feel to not just my own child, but to trans folk everywhere who are just trying to live peacefully and authentically. As the anti-trans rhetoric spreads, our love and support for trans folk needs to be louder, more colourful, and utterly relentless. Find yourself a trans ally pin, hat, t-shirt, or whatever and wear it everywhere. Let your trans friends know you have their back, and let the transphobes know that they are WRONG.

Being Jewish amid rising antisemitism. Being human amid the rise of hatred.

Last week, friends, neighbours, and various community members reached out to me to make sure I was okay and felt safe after the horrific Bondi Beach event. Making a quick call or sending a wee message probably didn't feel like a big deal to them, but I definitely felt their love in the wake of yet another antisemitic act of violence, and that felt like a big deal to me. This is what we do when we see our friends' demographics under assault - we blanket them in love, letting them know that we are here for them.

This week it felt equally important to reach out to our Muslim friends, because, even though the hero of the Bondi Beach story was an incredibly brave Syrian Muslim man, the fact that the shooters were also Muslim unleashed a tsunami of repulsive anti-Islam backlash. Like antisemitism, anti-Islam sentiments are always lurking just below the surface, ready to be dredged up and hurled about at any opportunity. I can't imagine how terrifying it is to be Muslim when these horrific events occur. I hope you are checking in on your Muslim friends and neighbours.

Earlier this month, the abhorrently racist members of BC's uber-right fringe party OneBC (they really shoulda called themselves WhiteBC), attempted to hold an unsanctioned event at the University of Victoria, where they planned to spout their residential school denialism bullshit under the guise of 'free speech'. The main news from that day, however, was not so much what these horrible people did or said, but the number of Indigenous people and their allies who showed up to drum and sing and drown out the lies with truth and love. This is what I'm talking about. We know how to show up for each other under difficult circumstances, and we all feel better when we do.

Right now we are seeing so-called leaders attacking so many different groups, thinking they can get away with it. In many ways, I suppose they are getting away with it, but it's our job to make them feel extra shitty about their behaviour while uplifting our friends and neighbours who are under attack. It's our job to let others know that we can't remain silent in the face of fascism. It's our job to prove that love is stronger, louder, and way more fun than hate.

Showing our love in myriad ways.

Whether it's just part of the Project 2025 action plan, the last gasps of White Heteronormative Patriarchy, or the woo-woo effects of the current cosmic alignments, we are being bombarded with cruelty in all shapes and forms, and I'm the first to admit that it can feel paralyzing. But, paralysis is not an option when our neighbours are suffering. So, we do what we can, even if all we can manage right now is showing our love to help drown out the hate.

So, what does it look like to fight fascism with love? Here are just a few examples I can think of (please share yours):

Support immigrant owned businesses. Volunteer to feed Christmas dinner at your local shelter. Fundraise among your friends to buy warm clothes and food for outreach workers who are supporting our unhoused neighbours. Wear, speak, post your love and support for the LGBTQ2+ community and all communities under assault. Learn about and honour the Indigenous people on whose lands you live. Speak up if someone is being hateful. Call our lies. Call your friends. Ask your neighbours if they need anything.

Let this last night of Hanukkah teach us how to be the lights for each other.

Now, in these darkest days, is our time to share our light with each other. Some of us are feeling the pain more than others. I am thinking of my trans and immigrant and Indigenous friends whose lives have become more endangered, more unsettled because of the bile spewing forth from some of the shittiest people on earth. We may not be able to quell this un-called for cruelty, but we can ease it a bit with our love and support. We can bring some light into these dark times. As this post from Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg quotes, "Look for the opportunity to be bright, to light someone else's way, to warm their hands, to shuttle them safely through the dark." Friends - we did it! We made it to Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. The light will start to return now, and we get to be a part of that. We get to bring our light to make the days ahead brighter for all.

From my home to yours, l'chaim!

Jessica (she/her)