There was a time in my life when I thought I was confident. It took time to build that but I felt I had reached it. I could speak in front of a room. I could articulate ideas clearly. I could advocate for others. I could even challenge injustice when it felt necessary.

But privately? I didn’t trust myself.

“We have to remain visible. They have to see us, they have to know that we’re not going [nowhere], that we’ve been here ever since God made man and woman, and they have to get over it.” - Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, author/activist/community organizer

Sitting down to write this month’s article felt like a heavy, reflective lift for me. For a long time—and, if I’m honest, still sometimes today—I allowed my feelings to guide my actions. As you might imagine, that led to more than a few missteps. Okay… a lot of them.

Humans have been making art since before recorded history. It’s in our nature. Our methods and mediums have changed, but what we make art about hasn’t changed much: things we see, things we dream, things we feel. And right now, a lot of people are feeling a lot of things. Making art can feel trivial when there are so many disastrous events happening all around us. But I think that trying times are when art becomes especially important. Here are some tips to help you keep creating:

This will be my final newsletter article for the Cortland LGBTQ Center. I am moving out of state in a few days and wanted to take this time to say thank you and goodbye to the community I have met and worked with over the last three and a half years. I came into this position with no real background in the non-profit sector and just wanted to find ways to help the Cortland LGBTQ+ folks in the community have a safe space to be themselves. I have met amazing professionals, learned about the wonderful resources in the area, and met some amazing queer performers and allies.

With resolutions in the air, one trend is that most people choose a single word to guide their year, such as intentional, brave, or growth. This year, I choose ME!

As we step into a new year, we’re often invited to choose a word to guide us for the year.

These are often popular words I hear from clients, friends, and family:

Intentional

Brave

Grounded

Growth

I’ve never been someone who welcomes change with open arms, at least not at first. For me, the discomfort often comes from fear, anxiety, and that looming sense of not knowing what comes next. I’d love to say I’m not a creature of habit, but the truth is I can get very comfortable with the status quo. There’s a particular safety in routine… until something disrupts it.

It’s like a familiar pattern I lived through over and over when my son was growing up: we’d finally settle into a rhythm, feel like we understood this age, this phase, this version of him, and just when we felt grounded, something would change again. Suddenly, we were back to navigating new challenges, new circumstances, new unknowns. And that’s life!

One thing I hear a lot from folks when they stop by the Center or at any of the trainings we offer (email us if you want to schedule one!) is that there are a lot of terms, and it can be confusing to keep up and learn everything. Which is true there are a lot more terms now than when I first came out and sometimes definitions can change over time to be more specific or more inclusive. This newsletter is going to go over some terms that might not come up in day-to-day conversation but can be used to expand your inclusive vocabulary and be aware of what people are talking about if they are describing their own experience. Most of these terms will be focused on trans and polyamorous terms, and if someone uses one it is always best practice to mirror their language. If you are unsure if you can or should mirror language, ASK if it is appropriate for you to do so!

Being an ally is a concept many people are familiar with—or even claim to embody—and it plays a crucial role in the growth and support of communities. Minority communities, such as those of LGBTQ+ individuals, people with disabilities, and communities of color, rely on allies to help amplify their voices and protect their interests. Allies can support these communities by speaking up in spaces where their perspectives may be underrepresented or by acting as advocates and safeguards for their safety and well-being. But what does allyship actually look like in practice? What does it mean when someone identifies as an ally? Allyship exists on a spectrum, with different levels and approaches depending on the situation, as well as a person’s comfort, privilege, and capacity to act.

For the last month and a half, I’ve been experiencing a constant barrage of work-related issues, what I'd call 'hot messes', on almost a daily basis, unlike anything I’ve ever faced in the past. The run-up to the start of the school year is always peppered with a few challenges here and there, but this year was different. The pace was relentless, and the complexity of the issues was daunting.

And yet, through it all, I’ve been surrounded by colleagues whose professionalism, patience, and kindness carried me forward. My support team has played a crucial role in helping me navigate most of these challenges. Without them, I can honestly say the load would have felt unmanageable.

This has reminded me of something important: even when life feels overwhelming, having a strong support system makes all the difference.