A letter to my cis friends

Last Tuesday, Premier Smith introduced legislation to invoke the notwithstanding clause and override the rights and freedoms of trans youth in her province, paving the way to circumvent the courts and implement legislation that denies trans kids the freedom to be themselves at school, bans healthcare they need, and forces a whole community out of sport (and who knows what’s next). Every day since, I have found myself with tears in my eyes, felt my gut lurch, as I think of the kids and families in Alberta, as I wrangle with my sense of powerlessness, look at the terrifying trajectory ahead of us, and try to hold off a sense of inevitability. 

In my public appearances, I am a champion of hope. I remind my movement, and our peers, that we have always been up against people with more money, more resources, and yet we have overcome. We have won, against the odds, time and time again, because our ideas are stronger, our values more true. Our opposition relies on fear, anger and lies. We win through hope, defiance and a vision for the future that is better - for everyone - than the authoritarian, hierarchical option of our opposition. 

In the spirit of ‘inside you there are two wolves”, in this post, I give voice to the other part of my brain that is terrified, hurting, and worried no one will care enough to stop the erosion of my community’s rights. That voice is loud some days. Honestly, it’s really loud right now, but even in my darkest moments, I choose hope. I choose to believe in humanity, and in our ability to rise above the hate and hostility. With those disclaimers, here we go. 

My community is terrified. Our rights are being stripped away, starting with the most vulnerable: kids, and it feels like no one cares. I don't know how to make you care. I know so many of you are in this with us and I am so grateful. Many of you have gone above and beyond. In my travels, and through my role, I have met countless allies whose commitment is unquestionable. Moms and dads, friends and loved ones and allies, who are showing up day and night. This is not about those allies. In fact, it’s not about any single one of you. It's about the whole.

I don't know how to say nicely that my heart has already broken, and continues to break, because I know that if this was about cis people, about cis kids, people would care more. But it's not. It's about trans people. 0.33% of the population used as a scapegoat, a target to dehumanize, to divide and distract. We are being turned into villains and freaks and outcasts. Denied healthcare. Denied freedom. Stripped of our rights. And no one cares. Or cares enough.

My heart is breaking for my trans friends in Alberta, for the trans kids and their parents. And for trans people across Canada who are scared for our futures, our freedom, our safety and our rights. If nothing changes, lives will be ruined, lives will be lost.

The queer and trans movement is beautiful, but it is not (conventionally) powerful. We are a movement with minimal resources and little organizing infrastructure. Our trans community in particular is small to begin with. Now, we have the weight of whole governments turned against us, and have become one of the chief targets of the far right as they lean into a scorched earth approach to trans rights. Allusions to the “powerful trans lobby” would be laughable, if you had seen what I’ve seen: a movement outresourced at every turn. We were not ready, when backlash began. We are not ready now, as that backlash grows. We can not do this alone. 

I am one of few trans advocates in a position of influence and profile on the national stage. For years, I have used every ounce of that influence to try and scale the response, to build our movement and tap in our allies. I've put my all into filling a critical gap - the lack of a national movement and advocacy organization, aimed at powering up the grassroots and mobilizing supporters to challenge hate. Despite support, despite my profile and reach, we've had to scrap and beg for every dollar, and it's nowhere near enough - nowhere near the scale of resourcing or capacity we need to meet this moment. I'm proud of what I've done alongside my team and our supporters, sure, but it's not enough. If I’m being real, this work has broken me. I am so damn tired. I am hurting in ways I didn’t know I could. 

I have spent years being a public punching bag for the far right. Years of threats, hatemail, dehumanization and personal attacks. I have been called a pedophile, an abuser, a misogynist, a freak, a fetishist and worse. I have been suicide baited, harassed by haters, and digitally stomped on by leading figures of the far right. I have been doxed. I have had to fear for my safety, too often. I was in the right place at the right time, positioned to play a leadership role, but I didn't realize what it would cost me. I didn't realize that despite my supposed profile and power, I would feel powerless, or that I would have to pay so steep a personal price. I have borne the hate with imperfect grace, but it takes a steep toll. It is hard to be lied about, vilified, dehumanized and turned into a symbol to be hated. 

I keep going, and I do my best to bandage over the psychological wounds I keep taking. Those close to me have seen the weight that rests on my shoulders, the scars hiding an inch under my skin, and the depth of pain in my eyes when I let my walls down. I know it's not all on me. But I see my world on fire, and I don't see another option than to keep going.

I have spent years trying my best and watching my community lose ground. Years waiting, wondering, hoping, for people to care enough to show up for trans people. Years wondering when my cis peers - in the social justice movement, the broader progressive space, and peers from across the political spectrum who believe in freedom and human rights - will tap in. I feel an inordinate (and admittedly unhealthy) responsibility to fix this, to stop the rollback, but I equally feel way out of my depth, and I keep wanting the pros, the adults, to tap in.

Where is everyone, and why do we - as trans people - feel so god damn alone? Has the far right really succeed so well and so quickly in turning the world against us? At portraying us as radical extremists? God damnit, this movement isn't perfect but we are being lied about, the public is being mislead and we don't have the resources to respond. I am left wondering: have we really been abandoned so quickly, so easily? 

We talk about solidarity. We talk about being one movement. But it's just talk. We express our concern about rising hate, and move on. We post about TDOR, and move on. I don't know how to say nicely that I don't need the solidarity of your Instagram posts. I need the solidarity of your dollars and your bodies by our side. I don’t know how to tell you that we are losing and people like Premier Smith are winning. Because we don’t care enough to stop them.

We have a whole government punching down on trans people. Overriding rights, stripping freedoms and banning healthcare. The overton window on trans rights has shifted hard right. What’s next? How long until we can’t go outside looking like we do without being called a tranny and a freak? How long till trans people’s healthcare is made illegal - regardless of age? How long till it becomes permissible to strip transgender people of every right, every freedom, until we’ve got nothing left but a world turned against us? How long till trans people risk violence every time we leave the house?

Governments stomping down on one minority makes it easier to do it to the next group. Taking away individual rights and freedoms is bad for everyone. This is about trans people but it’s going to impact everyone. They’ve simply started with us, because they hate us (no, not the entire right wing, but a painfully large portion of their base) AND because we’re an easy target. We are a domino. If they can knock us down, turn the world against us, they can replicate it with the next minority. 

I am in this struggle for my community - for the trans people, and especially the kids, who deserve better than the hate, violence and discrimination we are being subjected to. But I am also in this because I know what’s at stake: the soul of society and the health of our democracy. The threat is existential. The stakes couldn’t be higher. Authoritarianism, rights-erosion, assaults on bodily autonomy, the re-imposition of the state in the private lives of its citizens, and the resurgence of racism, misogyny and homophobia. Trans people are among the first targets for a reason. Because if it’s framed as about us, they know you won’t care. And won’t notice what’s at stake until its too late.

I spent Trans Day of Remembrance last week in crisis mode, pulling together our plan for Alberta. I didn’t go to a vigil, because I knew doing so would open flood gates of heartbreak I need to keep closed, so I could show up for trans kids out west. I just wanted to curl up and cry. But I have a job, and a community that needs me, and needs us.

This morning, I opened instagram and read a post about TDOR that said: "I want you protected, not remembered. I want you safe and sound". Tears came to my eyes. I don’t want to mourn the dead. I don’t want to watch the list of lives lost grow yet again. I don’t want to watch as my community’s suffering worsens, as our freedom is taken away, as we descend further down a path that leads to more violence, more suffering. 

My community can’t do it alone. I can’t do it alone. I don’t know how to make you care, but I wish you would. For the kids, for the families, for the soul of society. 

I’ve opened my heart and shown you the hurt and fear inside. But what’s my call to action, for those who have read this far? My call to action is simple: help us stop the hate in Alberta. Help us draw the line. Tap in, lend us what skills and expertise you have. Open your wallet, and fund the movement. 

Danielle Smith is lying to Albertans. She’s using misinformation and exaggeration and fear to strip away fundamental rights and freedoms. She is the best example in the worst way of where Canada is headed. She is the smiling authoritarian, eroding rights and freedoms and making life harder for vulnerable children, while pretending she’s "protecting kids". She and her base are a beachhead - an entry point for the kind of Trumpian politics we cannot allow to take root in Canada. Let’s deny her an inch, so her movement can’t claim a foot. Queer Momentum has launched our most ambitious fundraising campaign yet, with a goal reflective of the degree of crisis and need in Alberta. Please consider visiting www.momentumcanada.net/ForTheKids to help us bring together the $150,000 worth of individual contributions we need to cover Alberta with ads, flyers, and billboards. 

If you’re a member of a union, work for a foundation, or in a similar role, we have set a goal of $400,000 in contributions from organizations, foundations and partners. If you are in a position to make a sizeable contribution, please reach out to [email protected]. If you have experience, time and expertise to put into this struggle, please reach out via that email as well. 

And perhaps, a closing note of hope:

We have been here before. Only in recent memory have we actually had government that didn't intentionally discriminate against, harm and exclude trans and queer people. We've been through backlash before. Progress is not linear. Just like our elders and ancestors of past era, just like the queer and trans people (and, yes, the allies) who organized for and won the rights, freedoms and acceptance we now enjoy, we can and we will get through this. We will build our movement, we will expose our oppositon for their hateful agenda. They rely on ignorance, fear and hate. We mobilize in love, hope and defiance.

Our vision of the future is better than theirs. That's why they're coming for us. Because they're scared of the more free, more equal, more just world we are building. It won't be easy, but I believe that we will win. I choose hope, every single day. I invite you to do the same.

We made a promise to trans and queer youth. We told them: You can be yourself. You can walk tall and you deserve to be treated with dignity. Now, it's on us to keep that promise. I grew up taught shame and self-loathing. Every generation before mine did too. This generation? They were the first in modern history to be given the freedom to be themselves. That's beautiful. That's worth organizing to uphold.

We can do this. We can win. Together, we will.