LGBTQ activists are often portrayed in the media as faceless mobs, fighting and screaming. Yet these portrayals do not paint the full picture of who these advocates are and what drives them into the streets, fighting for justice. The reason to fight for many — as cheesy as it may seem — is love. This love for self, love for others, and love for community has been the foundation upon which much of the LGBTQ movement for acceptance is built on.

LGBTQ expressions of love as activism have a deep history and a bright future. The College Sweetheart series, featured below, explores conceptions of love, identity, media, and activism in the lives of young LGBTQ activists who were finding themselves and falling in love during the LGBTQ movement of the 21st century.

The series features stunning photographs and Q&A responses of young activists who are members of GLAAD’s Campus Ambassador Program. The series was photographed by GLAAD Campus Ambassador and photographer, Aaron Giglio.

Check out the College Sweethearts photo series and interviews below.

Josua Lutian, Colby College

How has your identity influenced your activism and visa versa?

Because I am a gay, brown, Asian, and non-American man I get to experience my queerness through a different lens than most of the people portrayed in the LGBTQ+ community. I think about intersectionality a lot. My journey was paved by the way my Filipino culture molded my ideas about queerness. It took a lot of soul searching and re-learning what is accepted in my community and what I accept myself. Because of my identity it probably took me longer to be where I am than most people. But I also think that my journey has helped be more analytical about certain situations I find myself in.

Have you ever been in love?

No. I don’t know if that’s fortunate or unfortunate of me. I’m sure it’s just around the corner. I think I’ve been socialized to expect a partner to come and then a family to be made after that serendipitous meeting. I’ve since realized that relationships are much harder than that. These expectations are not so easily achieved and I’m not sure these outcomes are what I want in life. I am still ready to meet that first person that I would fall in love with. I bet it’ll be as amazing and as frightening as others have been telling me.

C Mandler and Kyle, Bard College

What does your happily ever after look like?

Feeling like I have changed the lives of the people around me for the better.

What does love look like and feel like in your life right now?

Love is the way my partner holds my hand when there are too many people around me and I am scared. Love is my dog licking my face even though his breath smells really bad. Love is calling my mom on the anniversary of my grandma’s death and knowing before speaking that we’re both thinking of her. Love is the head of my upper school making sure that I didn’t drop out of high school when I was sixteen. Love is all the support I get every single day from my amazing family—both blood and chosen—of friends, mentors, and educators who strive constantly to make sure I feel seen, heard, and safe.

Adrian Vega, Stanford University

Have you ever been in love?

I've absolutely been in love I just haven’t always felt comfortable owning that love and calling it love. But love is something crucial to my mental health. Without the love of my friends, family, and boyfriend I wouldn’t be the activist or the person I am today. So yeah, I’m 100% head over heels in love right now.

What does the media get wrong about people like you?

Most of the time when I see a gay Latinx man in the English media, he is often a papi chulo, “exotic”, wearing tight floral shirts, and with a heavy accent and lisp, think the pool boy in Legally Blonde. And when I see gay men in Spanish media, they’re secondary characters existing to further a straight character’s narrative or to be the butt of a joke. Latinx gay men are only treated as peripheral, as caricatures and punchlines by media and that makes it difficult to exist as a gay Latinx man. We need to pressure the media to start writing Latinx stories, to write nuanced Latinx stories, and to write nuanced Latinx stories with queer and trans Latinx characters (ideally played by queer and trans Latinx actors).

Danni Inman, St. John’s University

When did you first become an activist? Why did you become an activist?

I first became an activist when I was in high school, and my best friend at the time decided she wanted to start a GSA at our high school and asked me to help. I realized that I wanted to be there for people so they wouldn’t go through the bullying and difficulties I went through, and if they did, they wouldn’t have to face it alone. I wanted to fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

How has your identity influenced your activism and visa versa?

My identity has influenced my activism by making me unafraid to bust through walls. I’ve noticed as a petite girl, with a young face and brown skin, when I’m talking I’ll likely be taken as a joke, no matter the passion in my words. So more often than not, I’ll have to do things for myself. I have to prove I’m a force to be reckoned with. So I’ll do them. And I’ll move mountains. Being doubted and underestimated made me a better activist.

Aaron Giglio and Josh, CUNY Guttman and The Juilliard School

How has your identity influenced your activism and vice versa?

My identity has influenced my activism because my growing up as a closeted gay person on the autistic spectrum was unique with its own set of difficulties. The feeling of being constantly misunderstood and unable to speak up for myself remained constant during my childhood, especially due to issues that I had with having a developmental disability, and not knowing that there were other people like me.

What does love look and feel like in your life right now?

In my life, love just feels like my significant other. He is the most amazing human being I have ever met, and I know in my heart that I would literally die for him and, as I say to him constantly, love him relentlessly.

Nicole Gemmiti and Michela, Berklee College of Music

What do you love most about being an activist?

My love of activism stems from the feeling in my heart when I know that I made a change in someone’s life for the better. When a younger student in my high school said our group helped them gain the courage and security to come out as transgender; when students in my college tell me that club meetings are the highlight of their week; when organizations and individuals are proud of, and benefitting, from the work that I do and the projects in which I’m honored to take part - that’s the greatest reward of activism. Being a positive influence in your local community is the gateway to global change.

What does your happily ever after look like?

My happily ever after consists of me making the largest possible positive impact I can have on my community, specifically that of queer musicians, and the global community. I want to co-run an independent record label with my girlfriend, specifically focusing on supporting queer and LGBTQ+ identifying artists. Hopefully we can use that platform as a catalyst for change. If you’re not living life to leave a positive mark on following generations, what are you living for?

Malachi Robinson, Montclair State University

Have you ever been in love?

Define Love… LOL  I mean I’ve liked people and talk to a couple of people but I don’t think I’ve been in love. I have an idea on what I think love is and what it should feel like, but I’m waiting for that one to give me those “butterflies” everyone speaks of.

When did you first become an activist? Why did you become an activist? 

I don’t have a direct moment where I became a “activist.” I feel like I’ve always have seen things differently compared to my friends and family. When people around me would say things about the LGBTQ+ community, I always felt weird and tried to educate them about the community. I have always felt like helping others and having compassion in your heart is what makes the world go around.

Leah Juliett and Owen Logios, WCSU and UConn

Owen: What does love look like and feel like in your life right now?

In the literal sense, love looks bald, tattooed, and beautiful. But actually, love is so warm and kind. Love gave me the motivation to succeed professionally, and as an activist. Love brought me to new heights and opportunities to let my voice be heard. Love has shined a light on the beautiful parts of me that I never got to see in myself before I came out. Love reminded me that I don’t need to stress the small stuff. Love told me to set myself free of what has held me back, and to never look back.Love is valiant, inspiring, and smells like lavender. Love is all I’ve ever needed, and all I ever want.

LJ: What does your happily ever after look like?

My happily ever after is a fist in the air, triumph in my face, with one hand holding Owen while being sworn in as the first nonbinary United States Senator. Together, we will support one another while spending our lives advocating until everyone has a love as deeply fulfilling as ours.

Akila Prayaga, Cornell University

What does the media get wrong about people like you?

The media over-sexualizes queer women which has always been something that annoys me. But more importantly, the media likes to put queer women into these boxes and stereotypes. Queer women have so many different identities than the limited set of characteristics the media paints us to have. Being LGBTQ+ identifying is one of many identities that I have. I’m more than a stereotype.

What does love look like and feel like in your life right now?

 I’m in love with an amazing person and it feels incredible. Before I realized I was queer, I was never seriously into anybody that I went on dates with or even had supposed crushes on. I never understood the whole obsession about finding love which is commonly seen in the media. But after coming out and going through a few flings and dates, I was able to find someone serious. I found someone who is not only my girlfriend but my best friend. She makes my life brighter and happier.

Kali Villarosa, Skidmore College

When did you first become an activist? Why did you become an activist?

I like to think that I was born to be an activist. From early on my mothers would take me to LGBTQ rallies, protests and marches with them. I grew up surrounded by my mother's AIDS/HIV activism. I grew up wanting to fight for the rights of black and brown bodies, of all marginalized bodies.

What does your happily ever after look like?

This question makes me smile, but I'm also not quite sure how to go about answer it. In one sense, my happily ever after is a world where people of every identity are represented in every part of the world, from adequate media representation, political representation and social representation. My happily ever after is a world where I can walk down the street holding hands with whoever I'm attracted to without the fear of stigmatization, without anyone questioning myself or the person I am with. My happily ever after is a world where all oppressed bodies can finally be safe. Where there is no question about who I love, or who anyone loves, because love is just the norm.

Rowan Hepps Keeney, Barnard College

Have you ever been in love?

Yes. To me, being in love is more than just a romantic love and is necessary for finding joy and empathy in everything around me. It’s something I try to practice every day as often as I can.

What do you love most about being an activist?

I love the feeling of empowerment and pride that I get when fighting for something I truly believe in. There is an amazing feeling of community and love that accompanies making important change. I’ve never felt more love and connection for those around me than I do when working with others in activist spaces.

Clare Kenny is a Campaigns Manager at GLAAD. She leads GLAAD's Youth Engagement including the Campus Ambassador Program, Rising Stars Grants Program, and amp series. Clare is a graduate of Skidmore College.

Aaron Giglio is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and a sophomore at CUNY Guttman Community College. He is passionate about fine art photography and photojournalism. Aaron is the photographer behind the College Sweethearts photo series.

My partner's name is Chris. Chris and I met on Tinder in 2015 a little while after I found myself on the bad side of a breakup. I had downloaded Tinder, and other dating apps like Brenda and LezPark, hoping to finally break my long running pattern of dating men. I've been out as bisexual since I was 15 and now at 22 I have yet to actually have a relationship, or anything really, with a woman.

I went on a grand total of 4 dates with women and women-aligned individuals before going on my first date with Chris, and, almost 3 years later—well, here we are.

I love this man with every fiber of my being. I wear a promise ring to show that, but something is wrong with our relationship that I often try to ignore.

Being with Chris makes me feel like a bad bisexual.

I hesitate to use the term “boyfriend” when talking about our relationship in queer spaces. I use “partner” frequently, as a way to disguise the fact that I am in what’s seen as a heteronormative relationship from my queer community.

I'm not ashamed of him—he's my biggest ally and my strongest supporter. I will never view him as the cause of my struggles with my identity. Rather, I view my journey with these struggles as the symptom of a much larger and consistent force in the lives of bisexuals engaging in heteronormative-appearing relationships.

I have spent years of my life swimming in a sea of stereotype-fueled accusations and constant questioning; so much so, I've begun to question and doubt myself. I've internalized the very same gaslighting and biphobia I work so hard to fight. Despite my activity in queer communities, I don't feel like I have a right to take up space in them. All because I’m dating a man.

Honestly, I wish I had the ultimate answer on how to maintain queerness in relationships assumed as heteronormative. As a bisexual struggling with their own erasure and internalized biphobia, I have some guidelines I follow to reaffirm my identity within myself, because without community, bisexuals have nothing.

Here are my five pointers:

1. Absorb and collect the art, media, articles, and general content that features bisexuality or is created by bisexual people. Immersion in bisexual content is not only chicken soup for the bisexual soul, but helps with overall visibility and financial backing for bisexuals, themselves, a community that receives practically no funding. By staying current with all forms of bisexual content, you'll not only feel connected to the community, but you'll be helping other bisexuals along the way.

2. Use your voice. Bisexual communities don’t often have the resources to make our own physical spaces, so we do what we can to thrive in the spaces where our voices are often ignored, or we are simply scared to use them to promote our issues and our needs. We need visibility, and if you can provide just a small amount of it, it will mean the world to the larger population.

3. Be willing to educate your partner regarding the issues facing the bisexual community. Let them know about the disparities that will affect you, and the way in which certain language, actions, and beliefs negatively affect you. I wrote a piece on how partners should work to validate the identities of their BTQIAP+ partners in order to properly support them, but ultimately your willingness to educate your partner should be a starting point for their own independent research into your community.

4. I’ve felt strongly about for a while - bisexuals need to take their different gendered partner to LGBTQIAP+ Pride events. I don’t mean take them and blend into the crowd of allies and confused pedestrians. I mean take your different-gendered partner, wear your bi-pride loudly and proudly (if it is safe for you to do so in such a public space), and take up the space that you deserve as a member of the LGBTQIAP+ community. Do not let yourself be erased in these spaces. Remember, a bisexual woman organized the first pride parade. You are, and always will be, queer enough to go to Pride (and if you still don’t feel queer enough after reading that sentence, I’ve got some more tips for you).

5. Please continue to challenge the ways in which you view your own bisexuality. Refuse to allow yourself to internalize the gaslighting and biphobia we continue to receive. Actively work to undo the beliefs that have already affected the way in which you view yourself. Don’t hide yourself away from the larger bisexual community just because of the gender of your partner, and don’t allow your partner to erase your bisexual identity against your consent. We need bisexuals to be visible, the community relies on visibility and is still struggling to get it. Your visibility, and your self-love, might be what another bisexual needs to see to embrace their truth in a way they’ve otherwise been scared to do.

Remember, you’re still bi, no matter what.

Miles Joyner is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and senior at the University of South Carolina where they are studying History. Miles is the creator of Miles the Bisexual and also leads a monthly Bi+ 101 class open to the public.

This National Voter Registration Day, register to protect queer and marginalized youth from state and local representatives using their political platforms to target their most vulnerable constituents. Backed by the authority of their office, anti-LGBTQ politicians hiding in the shadows of so-called equality states are making it more difficult for youth to identity as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer through their discriminatory positions on topics important to their LGBTQ constituents.  

From elementary grades onwards, public school students nationwide learn about the role and importance of state and local government.  They develop respect for the legislators elected to represent them.  When these same political representatives marginalize their most vulnerable constituents, they are not only passively harming queer youth by adding to the culture of exclusion in their tight knit communities, but increasing the risk for direct harm to youth that are already more susceptible to bullying, mental health issues, and violence.  

Small town and state representatives must realize that their words and actions carry weight and create perceptions about their communities and the people that reside within them.  Their words matter.  Their voting records matter. Unfortunately, it seems that some of these representatives forget that children and teens with marginalized identities are constituents deserving of the same respect and representation as all others. Queer youth require greater support and understanding as they grow and seek inclusion within anti-LGBTQ pockets of their home states.  

When we think of states like Oregon, Connecticut, California, and New York, we often think of champions and leaders of the legalization of LGBTQ equality. As activists, we feel as if our work is better spent in those states that stand in harsh opposition to our community. Meanwhile, anti-LGBTQ representatives in equality states are making it harder and harder to be queer in their districts.

As a nonbinary queer person growing up in Connecticut, I was fortunate to experience an accelerated acceptance towards the LGBTQ community. In my hometown, however, the climate has always been much different than that of the state overall. State Representative Rob Sampson has routinely spoken and voted in favor of discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity. In May 2017, Rep. Sampson voted against HB 6695 to preserve the outdated and dangerous practice of conversion therapy thought to convert LGBTQ youth to a perceived heterosexual or cisgender “norm”. Studies show that this practice is both ineffective and incredibly damaging to the mental health of young people. In 2011, Rep. Sampson voted Nay on HB 6599, a bill prohibiting discrimination based on gender identity or expression. This voting record indicates that Rep. Sampson condones discrimination and oppression of LGBTQ folks in his district.

There is a nationwide epidemic of local politicians flying under the radar while discriminating against the LGBTQ community. Rep. Greg Barreto of Oregon voted against HB 2307, a bill that prohibits practices of conversion therapy on minors. While Oregon is known to be forerunner in equality, many state representatives voted against these protections.

California is a firmly pro-LGBTQ state, however 32% of the State Legislature is comprised of representatives who routinely vote against equality. In 2016, Rep. Brian Dahle voted against AB 1732, a bill that requires single user restrooms to be gender neutral. Dahle also voted Nay on AB 1266, a bill that desegregated school programs and activities based on gender.  Unfortunately, these are not single votes. AB 1732 received 19 votes of Nay from Republican members of the state legislature.

Earlier this year, The New York Times deemed New York State as one of the best places in the country to identify as LGBTQ. Meanwhile, Rep. Dean Murray cast votes of against  S 1523, a bill allowing unmarried partners to adopt a child,  A 4953, a bill that classifies conversion therapy on minors as professional misconduct, and A 8354, enacting marriage equality statewide.

While anti-LGBTQ votes are the minority in these states, the few representatives I’ve named share company with many others. When these representatives speak in favor of discrimination and oppression, they tell queer people in their districts that they do not consider them to be equal members of the community. Equal representation and visibility are critically necessary in small districts for marginalized youth. Imagine if the voices of these representatives are the only voices of leadership that queer children hear growing up.  

This issue runs much deeper than policy. The language and rhetoric often used by these politicians in regard to issues of gender and sexuality directly belittles the humanity of vulnerable youth needing local voices with the courage and knowledge to represent them fairly as they grow.

This National Voting Registration Day, I urge you to consider the impact of your vote in the state that you live in. Every vote matters to protect and preserve the rights of LGBTQ citizens nationwide.

It is the responsibility of all representatives to uphold the youth voice and the importance of diversity in their communities. Young people have keen vision and long memories. They are informed and they are monitoring the words and actions of their local representatives. Exclusionary and uninformed votes in favor of oppression are witnessed. New and future voters are watching. We will remember at election time.

If you're worried about registering, voting, or just curious about the process, check out these helpful links for young voters:

• Register to Vote- National Voter Registration Day 2017
• Voting While Trans Checklist - National Center for Trans Equality 
• Why Some Trans Voters May Be Ineligible to Vote - Teen Vogue
• Oppose Voter ID Legislation Fact Sheet- ACLU
• How Voter ID Laws Discriminate - The Atlantic
• Fighting Voter Suppression - ACLU
• Everything You Need to Know About Gerrymandering - Teen Vogue

This piece is a guest post by L. Juliett, a GLAAD Campus Ambassador, who attends Western Connecticut State University. GLAAD's Campus Ambassadors are a volunteer network of LGBTQ and ally university and college students advocating online and in their communities to create change.

Dear Halsey,

I was nervous reading about your new song with Lauren Jauregui on Hopeless Fountain Kingdom, Strangers, being promoted as a "love song for the LGBTQ community." I thought this type of inclusion would mean what it usually does in the media: one line or verse barely addressing same-gender attraction.

Too often, queer girls like us are (intentionally) duped into thinking our love and experiences will be represented in mainstream entertainment. Studios and labels will allude to possible inclusion and artists will use vague language and references in order to bring in LGBTQ-identified audiences. (See: queerbaiting.)

Still, as your fan (and a GLAAD employee) I knew I had to listen. I thought, at least it is sung by two out & proud bisexual women… I’ll know they are singing about an experience I can relate to.

Immediately, I was hooked, because Strangers sounds as if it belongs on my favorite, go-to Spotify playlist, “Crying on the Dancefloor.” But Strangers isn’t just meant for house remixes, played in clubs for bumbling millennials and their incessant dancefloor jumping. Listeners won’t be able to miss how this hit single, by two of pop’s biggest up-and-comers, is about queer love, queer sex, and queer intimacy.  

Literally no one could miss how queer this song is. After the catchy, synth-fueled intro, you sing your opening verse:

“She doesn’t kiss me on the mouth anymore.

'Cause it's more intimate, than she thinks we should get

She doesn't look me in the eyes anymore

Too scared of what she'll see, somebody holding me.”

Okay...so I was wrong. Not queerbait. Very queer. Honestly, you could have sung the first verse on repeat for the whole song and I would have kept listening. I connected with your lyrics right away.

Better still, Strangers continues on to detail your and Lauren's experiences–conflicting, beautiful, and complicated–with your ex-girlfriends. (See: relatable.) From the very beginning, you assert your queer prowess and unapologetically share your story of queer love gone lost, gone good, gone sad. (See: very relatable.)

The fact that you chose Strangers to be a single and promoted it before the release of Hopeless Fountain Kingdom further signals your allegiance to representing queer love and working to share your story to all people regardless of identity.

It’s not just pop music– but it is pop music, and that’s what makes this album so groundbreaking. Kids across the world are going to dance and sing-scream the words that tell the story of you. And through you they will sing the story of so many of us whose stories are rarely told.

Halsey: we’re not lovers, we’re just strangers– but I had to tell you how much this song and album mean to me.

xo - Clare

TW: transphobia, bullying, suicide

My name is C Mandler. I am non-binary and transgender. My pronouns are they/them/theirs and as I’ve said before and will proudly say again: my pronouns are non-negotiable. Some people have a problem with that... and are sending my transgender friends and me messages of hatred and threats of physical violence because of it. I ask that you read my story...

Recently, I was approached by Seventeen to participate in a video series showcasing the diverse range of identities of LGBTQ youth. I was honored to have an opportunity to speak up for the community that means the world to me. I was proud that a mainstream media outlet like Seventeen was profiling LGBTQ youth like me and my fellow GLAAD Campus Ambassadors.

Seventeen tells the stories of young people like Gavin Grimm, the trans student and national hero who sued his school district for the right to use a bathroom concurrent with his gender identity; like Jazz Jennings, star of I Am Jazz, which gives a candid and beautiful look into the life of a trans girl and her family in Florida; and Kenneth Weishuhn and Jadin Bell, who committed suicide within a year of one another after each grappling with serious bullying rooted in their openly gay sexual identities.

Seventeen’s commitment to inclusive storytelling is part of a larger movement of major media outlets showcasing the experiences of queer youth. The videos Seventeen released cover a variety of topics, including coming out, advice to teens, what pride month means to us, and most recently, a video discussing the lived experiences of four non-binary identified GLAAD Campus Ambassadors. When the video was released, the Campus Ambassadors and I were so excited to have an opportunity to better inform viewers about the gender spectrum, common misconceptions about non-binary and transgender identities, and the ability to explore gender identity through finding identifiable pronouns. Check out the video below:

I think it is easy to forget how much animosity towards LGBTQ people there is when people like me attend progressive schools, and have amazing networks of friends and family, chosen and given, to support us in our journey to not only figure out who we are but also make sure others feel safe and comfortable in their respective quests to do the same.

At my small liberal arts college in upstate New York, professors have sent kind and validating emails of apology after misgendering me in class; friends who understand that though C isn’t my legal name yet, it is my name. I am lucky to have such an unfathomable amount of love in my life, but even this love doesn’t protect from the sometimes harmful nature of the Internet.

When I woke up on Tuesday, there were 200 comments on the Seventeen video, entitled “Trans Students Explain Why Pronouns Are Important.” Below is a sampling of the top comments featured on the post:

Since then, Seventeen and their amazing digital team have been monitoring the comments to rid the video of the hateful vitriol that clearly violates their community standards. However, I woke up this morning to over 3,000 comments on the video. While some were supportive, most looked like this:

The video was also shared over 3,300 times, with some adding their own commentary that even included threats of physical violence:

Many of these comments are ignorant and straight up false, but the problem is that this harmful rhetoric isn’t merely Internet nonsense. In a world where LGBTQ youth are at higher risk of mental health issues, sexual assault, violence, and suicide, these sorts of comments translate into real-life violence.

2016 was the deadliest year on record for transgender people and these rates are only continuing to climb. Fourteen transgender women of color have been killed in the U.S. this year, with the most recent victim, 17-year old Ava Le’Ray Barrin, having been killed earlier this week. Knowing that remaining closeted as transgender is too often a mechanism for survival, these statistics are conservative and only include women who are publicly out as transgender.

I am willing and able to be visible and take Internet hate if it means that a young non-binary trans kid growing up closeted knows that someone is fighting for them, but not everyone can stomach the kinds of awful bigotry being spewed in the world - and they shouldn’t have to.

According to The Trevor Project, the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services for LGBTQ youth, suicide is the second leading cause of death among young people aged 10-24. Additionally, the rate of suicide attempts is four times higher for lesbian, gay, and bisexual youth than straight youth. 40% of trans adults have also reported attempting suicide and 92% of these individuals have attempted before the age of 25.

The type of cyberbullying seen in the comments of the Seventeen video is happening is too prevalent and visible on the Internet to properly contain and can be deadly for some LGBTQ youth.

I know a lot of people who watched that video and even some people reading this post will say ‘it’s not that serious,’ or ‘they’re just stupid video comments.’ But it is critical for all people to know that sometimes, inaccurate, rude comments aren’t just comments. They are expressions of hatred that further the agendas of those who assault and murder trans youth. They are ignorant statements that make millions of LGBTQ kids feel so unloved in a society they don’t think will ever accept them.

GLAAD is asking the next time you see this kind of hate online, stand up for those directly affected by it. You can go to our video posted on Seventeen's page and add your message of kindness. The few comments on the video that were supportive and encouraging were such small acts of support that made me and my fellow GLAAD Campus Ambassadors feel better in the face of so much hate.

Offer yourself as an ear to LGBTQ youth who are struggling to assert their gender and sexuality in such a contentious political era. Love the queer and trans people in your life because everything else aside, it keeps us alive.

To all those who are struggling: we see you and we love you. You are strong and powerful and beautiful. We are here for you - we are here with you and we will never stop fighting for you.

Frameline has just released the next collection of films in their Youth in Motion program, "Creating Home: Queer Identities, Families, and Spaces." This newest edition focuses on the experiences of transgender youth, the complexities of family - both given and found, as well as the importance of community support and acceptance in rural and urban areas. Keeping to Frameline’s goal of reaching students and educators within the community, this entire collection is also available online for free.  Since the program's creation in 2008, Frameline has created numerous collections that continually push the voices of LGBTQ people to the forefront. Frameline Executive Director Frances Wallace stated that, “We are proud of how Youth in Motion is impacting this space, and the dialogue it brings to each community, making positive and life-affirming change possible for queer youth.”

The two films for this year’s collection are:

DEEP RUN:

Deep Run eloquently portrays the life of a trans teen in North Carolina. While the film explores some of the hardships faced by 17-year-old Cole, his continual resilience is what lines this film with such a feeling of hope. Cole turns to his faith where he “finds the courage to move forward with his journey as a trans man.” Executive-produced by Susan Sarandon, this is the first film from Hillevi Loven.

WALK FOR ME:

Walk for Me, written and directed by Elegance Bratton, follows the life of Hassan, a young New York teenager who is just starting to explore their gender identity. After their mother discovers women’s clothes and a flier for the local Gay Ball, she confronts Hassan. Ultimately, Hassan’s mother must choose between accepting her child for who they are, or turning them away for good. Walk for Me is a film that tackles how complex family dynamics can be within your family of origin, and when building a chosen family.

Frameline’s Youth in Motion program now reaches people in all 50 states, and supports over 25,000 students in schools across the country. Previous collections have included: Resistance & Resilience: QTPOC Local to Global (including Call Me Kuchu, ​recipient of a GLAAD Media Award​ for Outstanding Documentary), ​Visibility through Activism: The Legacy of Vito Russo (a co-founder of GLAAD), ​Telling Our  Stories, ​Expanding Gender: Youth Out Front, and ​In the Family: Marriage Equality and  LGBT Equality.

This 2018 collection coincides with Youth In Motion’s 10-year anniversary.

My identity as ace has challenged my relationships with other people in curious ways. Reasons for my ‘singlehood’ range from timing and coincidence to unrequited feelings. However, though I have been in neither serious nor casual romantic relationships, I have had a handful of confusing complicated relationships with others that I describe as “quasiplatonic” (sometimes referred to as “queerplatonic”).

These kinds of connections are used to describe relationships that exist in a realm separate from societal norms and expectations (i.e. co-parenting with someone you are neither romantically nor sexually attracted to). Like a romantic relationship, I learned a lot about myself and others and discovered the complexities, ambiguity, and surprises that stems from unlabeled relationships that transcend the protocol and decorum of friendships. One of the most important quasiplatonic relationships I have ever had was with my friend Dani*.

Dani was a QTPOC(queer and trans person of color)-classmate of mine who reached out to me when I ‘came out’ on social media for Trans Day of Visibility wanting to connect. We shared similar concerns with our school environment and neither of us had that many friends we could confide in. We quickly befriended one another with just a month left until they graduated. It felt like there was a deadline for our friendship and that amplified all my anxiety.

Dani confided in me deeply. Dani showed me their personal art and their workspace. I was quickly getting to know this person and felt more inclined to fond over them, praise them, and comfort them; the last thing I expected to do was judge them or fight with them. At the time, I didn’t have that many friends of color or trans friends, let alone trans friends of color. This was a connection I needed to make to feel like I wasn’t alone.

In these slim few weeks of knowing each other, Dani would invite me over when they were reeling from panic attacks. I saw them cry a lot; I provided my shoulders. Sometimes, I felt like I should kiss them to make them feel better, but I knew my primary duty was care and comfort. I felt like a babysitter, a parent, a sibling, a protective partner. I spent exhausting hours witnessing this other person be vulnerable during one of my hardest semesters which made it that much more difficult for me to handle. I walked back to campus often crying and smiling, listening to queercore as loud as my earbuds would allow.

I was very conflicted about how I felt about Dani. Did I like them more than a friend? Would it even matter? Was my femme-ness or lack thereof enough for them to find me attractive? Did I find them attractive? Sometimes I wondered what it would be like if they kissed me, or if we were to hook up.

I’m known for making really interesting mixtapes. In all of this confusion, I made one for Dani, full of lyrics and explanations of how I felt about them. It was full of songs by LGBTQ+ identifying artists and songs that captured my euphoric confusion. I anxiously waited for Dani to finally listen to the playlist and said they loved it.

Unfortunately, Dani didn’t get the message from my mixtape, so I had to tell them I liked them over text. Dani did not reciprocate my feelings. They apologized for leading me on, and explained that it was only natural for me to develop feelings for them because I had recently come out; likening my experience to theirs. I was, in that moment, embarrassed, and, frankly, furious.

I tried to focus on the positive of our relationship and it really made me happy; happy enough to deflect from the bad. Dani was my Senpai, my squish, my peer mentor. And of course, I was in love with the idea of their role in my life. I pretended I was unphased. But pretending I was unphased could only last so long-- I bawled my eyes out on a flight home after finals week while watching a cheesy teen indie flick. That inconvenient emotion I had bottled up finally came pouring out.

When Dani came into my life I didn’t have the time to explore and discover the kinds of ways I was attracted to people and if I would even be able to correctly assess my own emotions. I do remember wanting to feel attractive. I wanted Dani to be attracted to me, to reassure me that I could be more than just someone’s friend. I was open and curious. But because of the emotional support Dani needed, I felt like I had to put my discovery, questioning, and exploration on hold. I couldn’t focus on both myself and Dani (or my relationship with them) at the same time.

Love in general was a very difficult and scary emotion for me. It sometimes takes me a long time to form platonic friendships and get close or intimate with other people. I did have an emotional connection and attraction to Dani. I felt concern, pity, sympathy, empathy, and even momentary happiness. But to me, romance is not mutually exclusive from any form of love.

Since then, I’ve grown to accept and embrace being ace and how the types, levels, progression, and sequence of my attraction to other people will always vary. But regardless of how long it takes me to figure out what a relationship means and how I feel about someone special, I hope to remember that I shouldn’t have to sacrifice my comfort level, my gender presentation, or my self for anyone.

*Name has been changed to protect the privacy of the individual.

x rance is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and a senior at Ithaca College, studying Theater, Dance and Art History. Their main topics of interests are the intersections of race, (a)gender identity, and neurodivergence which they explore through choreography, performance art, installation, and scholarship.

Couple of Queers is a monthly amp series where LGBTQ couples (gal pals, platonicqueers, romantic couples, and more!) have conversations about identity, activism, dating, and growing up.

For the inaugural Couple of Queers feature, GLAAD Campus Ambassador, Sorrel Rosin and their partner, Jessie Culp discuss dating, being in public as a queer couple, and trans identities.

Trans & dating

SORREL: After I came out as trans, dating someone never really came to my mind as a possibility. This belief was rooted in my lack of confidence in my identity. You have to be comfortable with yourself before you can be comfortable with others.

JESSIE: Having a trans partner is an entirely new world for me and my lack of knowledge often creates the largest walls in the relationship. There are many times when my partner is upset, and I want to help them more than anything in the world, but I have no idea how. Any action I choose could hurt them more than it helps, and I have almost no way of knowing what the best thing to do is. My partner tries to articulate what they are feeling, but it's like different languages.

Out in public

SORREL: Every time I go out, with my partner or not, I experience a multitude of microaggressions. Because of this, going out in public was the biggest worry I had when I met my partner. Knowing that they had never experienced that before, I didn't want to bring that burden on my partner and create a barrier in the relationship. A big part of going out is the communication between us of when to respond to the microaggressions and constant misgendering.

JESSIE: Out in public I experience a new world again. Around town, my partner and I get stared at, whispered about, and occasionally honked at. Even on the safer environment of the University campus, we can only pretend to not see the confused and sometimes hostile looks thrown at us. I fear going out in public with my partner because I don’t know what to do. When they get misgendered; how should I respond?

Sex

SORREL: The dysphoria I experience can make sex into an unbearable thought. Getting around this requires a fair amount of creativity and excellent communication. A key aspect of communication is being aware of your own thoughts and being able to translate feelings into coherent communication. Sometimes it's hard to articulate exactly what is making me dysphoric because Jessie has never experienced dysphoria. I’m the most vulnerable when we have sex, and having such a supportive partner allows me to be vulnerable safely.

JESSIE: Sex with my partner is also different from any other cisgender-heterosexual couple. Everything in our relationship relies on completely open communication, and that goes double for sex. When having sex with a trans person, it's incredibly important to be constantly aware of their body language and know when it's time to stop. My partner is good at vocalizing when they don’t feel well, and when they want to stop, but dysphoria can often shut down their communication. The one thing I can always do is stop whatever is happening and comfort my partner.

Final thoughts

SORREL: The key to everything is communication, no matter the identity of your partner. What works for us, may not work for every couple with one trans and one cis person, or any other couple. At the end of the day, speak up, and communicate openly with your partner. This is the key to a successful relationship.

JESSIE: Sometimes it kills me that I cannot fix all the problems that plague my partner, and I cannot make them happy all the time, but I have to do what I can. This relationship is a constant learning experience for me, but also is often a struggle for both of us. There are many things that we cannot solve, and still there is an underlying feeling of inadequacy that I cannot shake every time my partner feels down. Love is a learning experience, and there is no one I would rather learn with.

Sorrel Rosin is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and a freshman at the University of Oregon studying Family and Human Services with a minor in Queer Studies. Their most recent project is a website called WelcomeQueer.com, a database of which stores are safe and accepting for queer people.

How can trans people best navigate the modern dating world? Finding love as a queer person is hard enough, throw gender identity on top of that and dating might seem impossible. The internet can be a refuge for finding community, but finding a dating community isn’t always the easiest or safest for trans people.

Most of my friends and I use dating apps to meet people, hook up, and date. There are many dating websites and apps that state that they are “LGBTQ friendly” but for the most part dating sites are more LGBQ friendly than trans friendly. I have read countless articles, internet comments, and profile messages from people who say, “I would never date a trans person.” In fact, only 16 to 18% of Americans say they would be willing to date someone who is transgender. Hearing about people being afraid of or not open to dating a trans person is just one reason why it is so hard to date as a trans person. And even though I have heard it many times before, it is still hard to confront.

I looked at eight popular dating sites to see which are the most gender inclusive. Most stick to the gender binary, forcing people to state that they are either male or female, with no other options. Some sites are more inclusive for cisgender gay or lesbian folks than bi+ folks, as they only list interested in only male or only female, without the option for selecting both. Some have a variety of sexualities to choose from, and some have a combination of options for gender and sexuality. I've found that OkCupid and Tinder are the most inclusive, having many options for sexualities and gender, especially transgender woman, man, non-binary and gender fluid.

Even once we have been able to select the appropriate identities for yourself and the people you are interested, many trans people still might feel obligated to disclose that they are transgender explicitly in their profiles or early in the conversation. But it often seems like the second you tell someone in the dating world that you are trans, their entire view of you changes. Sometimes, if you don’t come out to someone, they can make you feel like you lied by not disclosing. But if we tell the person on the other end that we are trans, the person may end the conversation in a huff. Either that, or they will fetichize our trans identity, saying something like ‘that’s hot,’ or ‘I’m usually not into trans people but I might like you.’ To be honest, all of those options make me want to run away.

Some trans folks might disclose that they are trans early in the conversation with someone they are interested in dating. Those that are comfortable enough to disclose this information might do so because they don’t want to get their hopes up only for rejection or possible violence if they meet up in person. There have been many instances in which I’ve neglected to disclose my gender identity until I was deep in conversation in someone, which made the person end the conversation and/ or say rude things. Sometimes I disclose my gender identity pretty early in the conversation and they stop messaging me immediately. Although disclosing trans identity in the beginning of a conversation early in the messaging process can be hard because people cut off contact, it’s safer in the long run.

Personally, I know that I am not ready to date yet. I am still in the middle of my coming out process and am focused on myself more than dating someone else. When I see a trans person that is dating and happy I get excited for them and for myself because I know how hard it is to find someone and feel comfortable. I also remember how lonely the single life can be when you are figuring out who you are and living through another heart-filled Valentine’s Day. Sometimes I wish I could have a relationship like the ones I see.

All trans people are worthy of love and affection. Hopefully we as a society will begin to see that trans people deserve love, just like anyone else. An important thing to remember though, is that patience is a virtue. Finding someone takes time and effort. And when I found someone who loves me for exactly who I am, as a trans person, I’ll know all the waiting has been worth it.

Riley McGrath is a Campus Ambassador and a sophomore at Bridgewater State University studying psychology. He runs a trans ally project on Facebook and Instagram that strives to put out trans and LGBT inclusive content. Riley hopes to be an LGBT counselor as well as a mental health counselor in the future.

I spoke with GLAAD Campus Ambassador Taylor Dolniak about their latest photo series ROSEWATER—a collection of images from Dolniak’s childhood that have been doctored and infused with new purpose. ROSEWATER is a queer coming of age story with a great sense of humor.

When asked to describe the series, Dolniak said simply, “I basically took photos from my childhood that I thought represented a characteristic that I had, and recreated them to show that time changes, physicalities change, but you’re still the same person.”

And there is definitely truth to that statement--Dolniak first had the idea for the series when they were looking at the original old photos with their mom. While Dolniak’s relationship with their past-self had historically been fraught, Dolniak’s personality still shined through heavily in the childhood photos.

“For a change, I saw myself for real. It was sort of closure for me to finally look at old pictures of myself and not be angry at who I saw. I knew that I wouldn’t be the person I was today without being who I was a kid. I wanted to thank my kid self for letting me grow up to become who I am.”

Sometimes it can be hard for queer people to reconcile their past selves, but ROSEWATER is a reminder that there are aspects that don’t change, even if everything else seemingly does.

“I made this project for myself, but after it was finished, I realized that people can relate to it whether they know me or not. Anyone struggling with self-identity or reflection on who they used to be can look at this and relate. I think that the idea of loving yourself can be hard, especially for people going through a transition of any kind in the queer community. But knowing who you are and the person you want to become is only possible because of who you were in the past.”

The project wasn’t just about creating a healthier connection with the past. On the phone, Dolniak explained that ROSEWATER was also a way to come out to their parents and old friends.

“I showed my parents this project and they, of course, loved it because it’s something creative that I did, but I was faced with negative comments like ‘why are you dressed like a boy’ and ‘I wish you would've done this without the baseball hat’, etc. Not being out to my parents, or many people in general, this project kind of became a sort of coming out without actually saying it. People started to think ‘Oh, maybe there’s something Taylor’s trying to say here’ and them beginning to understand.”

Gender politics and expectations are definitely present in the photos.

“When I was little I was always a tomboy--my parents bought me a pink Barbie jeep and I didn't have any Barbies. Instead of playing with it normally, I would put it on a stack of books under the wheels and roll myself under it and pretend to fix it.”

They also felt pressure from their family to conform to gender roles in terms of expression. “When I lived at home I had to wear clothes that my mom bought. Coming to college was a liberating feeling. I finally got to express myself! The past year has had a lot of self-discovery.”

“I like this one because the original image shows me hugging a gumball machine--which I think is very telling of the kind of person I am. The finished version one really hits me in the heart because me giving my bigger self a hug and vice versa sends a ‘you did it, I’m proud of you’ message, which I feel reflects the core meaning of the project.”

“In this pic of young me I’m just standing by the tree--my parents forced me to and I looked really pissed off. But I’m still a goofball--what’s better than me covering my face? It’s the kind of the thing you’d do to your kid sister.”

“I still own this stuffed elephant and sleep with it nightly. It’s something I can’t let go. This one looks the best, and feels the realest.”

“The original picture of me with that hat and puppy is on an afghan at my house. My mom loved that picture so much that she blew it up to a life-size version and put it on a couch for all to see. What better to do than to remake a picture that everyone in my family has seen?”

When asked what their younger self would think of the photo series, Dolniak responded, “My young self would probably be incredibly proud. I’m living my life now how I've always meant to and I think that my younger tomboy self kind of understands now that tomboy means a little bit more than just buying camo pants when your mom takes you shopping at Kohl’s. I think I would get a kick out of ROSEWATER—My common thread in life both then and now is just keep laughing. I think it's important. Make someone laugh. There’s a lot of comedy in this piece because I'm not a serious person by any means. That hasn’t changed, and I think I conveyed that pretty clearly.”

Positive portrayals of queer people’s pasts are a rare find in today’s artistic and media landscape. ROSEWATER is a refreshing project among the multitude of narratives currently represented that disparage the past in order to focus on an “it gets better” future. This project reminds us that it’s important to recognize the path that brought us to where we are today, especially in a way that doesn’t solely focus on the hardship of coming of age as a queer person.

You can check out the full project here, and follow Taylor Dolniak on Instagram and Twitter.

Taylor Dolniak is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and senior at Point Park University studying Cinema Production. After graduation, they hope to move to LA to work filmmaking in order to be a voice for anyone out there who has been made to feel like their inferior due to their gender, race, or sexuality.

Micah Prussack is a Campaigns Intern at GLAAD and a graduating senior at NYU Gallatin studying social anthropology. She is passionate about using media and culture to better the lives of marginalized individuals.

What's your #ComingOutAnthem ?!

In honor of National Coming Out Day, GLAAD is teaming up with our Campus Ambassadors to share their ‘coming out anthems’ and the stories behind the songs that empower them.

• Is there a song that describes your coming out experience?
• What’s that one jam you play while getting ready for a night out with your LGBTQ crew?
• Was there a tune playing on the radio when you came out as queer to your best friend?

Let us know! Join the GLAAD Campus Ambassadors and share your #ComingOutAnthem on social media.

Whether you are busting a move dancing to your favorite Beyoncé song, crying to (literally all of) Frank Ocean’s album, or pretending you can sing all of the parts to Bohemian Rhapsody (at the same time), everyone has that one anthem that makes them feel all the feelings.

Music has always been and will continue to be important to LGBTQ people and the way we express ourselves. Authentic expression through song has the power to transform individuals, even influence a movement, and change culture. Post the name and artist of your #ComingOutAnthem and tell us how the song relates to your experience.

Not everyone can claim “I’m Coming Out” by Diana Ross… so what’s yours? For inspiration, check out some of our favorites from our Campus Ambassadors below.

Julian Turner

USC '19

I admit it may come off a bit stereotypical that a gay man would choose a Beyoncé song as his “coming out anthem.” That said, this song honestly saved my life. After years of depression, I had prepared to do what I couldn’t do before. On the night that I was going to finalize the act, I absentmindedly checked social media. To my surprise, Queen B had released an album. And on that album was “***Flawless,” a song about declaring your power and claiming your throne. Yes, it comes off as excessive at times and maybe too arrogant. But that confidence was what I needed on that cold night in December so I blasted it for hours. The following morning, I finally decided to start living for no one's approval but my own. Now, nearly four years later on the other side of depression, I'm happy to say that both I and the love I share are flawless.

Nicole Gemmiti

Berklee College of Music ’19

This song is always the first that comes to mind when I remember the struggle of coming to terms with my sexuality. I remember listening to it with fondness when I was a child, and how the song became my own personal coming-of-age soundtrack around the age of 13. I was having such difficulty understanding what I was feeling, so I would sit alone in my room, play my guitar and sing Landslide, tearfully repeating lyrics about being afraid of changing and getting older. I actually feel as though I owe my coming out at such a young age to this song in particular. While coming of age and discovering my sexuality at the same time, it often felt like an overflowing landslide of emotions that I had no idea what to do with or how to approach in the slightest. This song gave me solace, and performing it over and over helped me to purge this onslaught of feeling in a way that gave me closure and confidence. Being a lesbian musician, music has always played an integral part in my acceptance of my queerness, and Landslide exemplifies that in the realest possible way.

Oddly enough a song about kissing girls is what made me realize I was gay. I was at home alone messing around on the computer when I came across a video on YouTube that piqued my interest. Being the curious kid I was I clicked on it, the content of the video fascinated me and made me feel a way I had never felt before. I kissed a girl which was one of my favorite songs at the time and the main reason I clicked, was the song playing in the video. Me being only 11-12 I didn’t really know what to call what I was feeling but I knew what I was feeling and I knew that it was right. A couple years later I would find out the correct term for what I was and the rest is history.

If you couldn't tell from my name, I'm a pretty big fan of 80's movies, especially "Footloose", so "Let's Hear It For The Boy" is definitely one of my all-time favorites. It's pretty much impossible to not sing/dance along to this song, and it always brings me up when I'm feeling low. As a trans dude, the lyrics have always been super affirming too, especially back when I was closeted and first coming out, and was regularly misgendered. Hearing this song would always make me feel seen and a little more confident to go about my day. When I hear it now I remember coming to terms with my identity, and the joy I felt when I found one that fit. I hope you listen to this and feel valid, feel seen, and most importantly, feel like dancing. Let's hear it for the (trans) boys!

The emancipation of coming out was a celebration of dignity that I cherish. “Marry The Night” represents marrying my dark past, insecurities and what was difficult about being lost in identity; having to portray two personas – at home and in school. I hold those struggles with me close to my heart. The church bells in the beginning of the song are my realization to break free from the weight of society. Once that dance beat hits, that 16-year-old builds the courage and bravery to take the world by storm. The song has this electric energy that pushes me to fight off all the negativity from the world. A representation of my ‘coming out’ era that made me out and proud.

Post your own #ComingOutAnthem by using the hashtag and tagging @glaad on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr!

Segments of this article were originally published in The Student Life of the Claremont Colleges by GLAAD Campus Ambassador, Donnie TC Denome. 

This past Monday, November 20th was Transgender Day of Remembrance. Just like every November 20th this day was one for solemn reflection and mourning. There have been, on record, at least 23 trans people killed in the United States since the beginning of 2017. 23 moments of silence, 23 reasons to cry.

But in the midst of the disaster that is the Trump administration and all the havoc it has wreaked on the trans community, we have to stay strong and look forward. We must celebrate the victories we have.

Tuesday, November 7th was one of the best election days many progressives could have hoped for and a wonderful day for the trans community.

Andrea Jenkins and Phillipe Cunningham, both Black trans people, became the first and second openly trans people of color elected to the Minneapolis City Council.

Last night was a victory for so many remarkable LGBTQ candidates, but it was also a victory for inclusion and acceptance https://t.co/tfk3C0ViCk

— GLAAD (@glaad) November 8, 2017

Danica Roem beat out self-proclaimed “chief homophobe” Bob Marshall for a seat in the Virginia state legislature. Roem is now the first out trans woman elected to a state legislature.

Danica Roem made history today as the first trans candidate to win a state legislative primary in Virginia. https://t.co/EdPpLnLYBapic.twitter.com/1hQI1jzB1R

— The Advocate (@TheAdvocateMag) June 14, 2017

In Pennsylvania, Tyler Titus, a Black trans man, was elected to the Erie School Board.

Lisa Middleton won a seat on the Palm Springs City Council and became the first openly trans candidate elected to a non-judicial position in California. Christy Holstege, who is bisexual, was also elected, meaning the entire city council of Palm Springs is now queer.

Of course, these elections don’t come anywhere close to combatting the damage inflicted by a Republican-controlled federal government. I have a feeling that the reaches of Ms. Jenkins, Mr. Cunningham, Rep. Roem, Mr. Titus, and Ms. Middleton are all limited to their state, city, or special district.

But in a less concrete sense, wow. That’s a lot of trans people in government who weren’t there last year or even last month. Every single one of those people is a role model and an inspiration to trans people, and especially trans kids, in their area and beyond.

Bob Marshall was one of the lead sponsors of a “bathroom bill” similar to HB2 in North Carolina and SB6 in Texas. During the Virginia campaign, Marshall refused to debate Roem. He misgendered her consistently when he talked about her.

And Roem beat him by eight percentage points. That sets an example: when your representatives trash-talk and bully you and people like you, run against them, beat them, and take their jobs.

However, these victories don’t make up for everything the Trump administration has done. When Betsy DeVos repealed the Dear Colleague letter on protections for trans students, this country took definite steps backward. When the ban on trans people in the military came down and was subsequently bounced around the courts, that was a definite step backward.

The nomination of Jeff Mateer, who called transgender children part of “Satan’s plan," to the federal judiciary was a step backward. The judicial nomination of Mark Norris, who opposed the trans-positive Dear Colleague letter and has supported multiple discriminatory laws at the state level, was a step backward.

But we are fighting back and we are making strides towards change.

Chelsea Manning had her sentence commuted by Barack Obama back in mid-January and since being released in May, she’s gained a large Twitter following, had multiple speaking engagements, and been named Newsmaker of the Year by Out magazine.

Gavin Grimm, who became a national figure in his quest to use the boy’s bathroom at his high school, graduated high school this spring. Right up to his graduation, his school refused to let him use the boy’s bathroom. But he did graduate and he never gave in. He decorated his graduation cap with a restroom sign.

On November 21st, a judge blocked the Trump administration’s ban on trans people serving in the military, calling it “a form of discrimination on the basis of gender.”

BREAKING: U.S. court bars Trump from changing military policy on service by transgender people.

— AP Politics (@AP_Politics) October 30, 2017

And for the rest of us, we have survived. Even if we have done nothing but live our lives every day since Trump’s election, we are still here and still fighting.

I exist as a queer trans person and I know that’s enough to piss off the likes of Mike Pence, Donald Trump, Roy Moore, and Jeff Mateer. I am not going to be silent. I refuse to stand down and give in. But I understand that there are people who are forced into silence or must remain in silence for their own safety.

The worst thing that anyone—trans or not—can be in this political climate is complacent. After a year of Trump, we’ve become so accustomed to the administration’s disturbing hijinks that each new development feels like just another day. It’s easy to become complacent but complacency is deadly. When we do not stand up for ourselves and our friends who are forced into silence, we fail ourselves, our friends, and our country.

Human rights—and human beings—die in the silence of complacency. We, as a trans community, must seek out opportunities and seize them: anything from writing articles, to speaking at community meetings, to running for office.

So on Monday, we had 23 reasons to mourn, and we did mourn. And going forward, we also have plenty of reasons to celebrate. Every single trans person who made it through this year is a reason to celebrate. Every electoral victory, every kid who escapes a bad situation, every person who speaks out against the injustices against the trans community, is a reason to celebrate.

Trans people have always existed and thrived, and we will continue to exist and thrive, Donald Trump and company be damned.

Here’s to another year. Maybe, just maybe, this one will be better.

Donnie TC Denome is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and a second-year at Pitzer College, studying Public Health. They hail from Silicon Valley and hope to work in HIV care in San Francisco post-graduation.

This Black History Month, three GLAAD Campus Ambassadors sat down to talk about their intersecting Black and queer identities.

There is a rich legacy of Black queerness. Black and queer people have existed and thrived for centuries, but their stories are often overlooked, even in the months dedicated to celebrating their histories. There are advocates like Marsha P. Johnson, Bayard Rustin, and Audre Lorde who blazed a path of Black and queer excellence. Pointing to historical Black and queer folks, these young activists are using the history of Black queerness to empower themselves.

Queer Black people exist as Black and queer every second of every day at the same time. However, as mentioned in the video by Clark Atlanta University student, Savannah Green, many Black and queer people feel as if their identities are in conflict—as if they can’t be Black and queer simultaneously. Black and queer people have expressed the struggle to fit in LGBTQ spaces and communities because of their Blackness and vice versa. They enter LGBTQ spaces, which are usually majority white, as a Black person and enter Black spaces, which are usually majority cisgender and straight, as an LGBTQ person.

This is the idea captured by intersectionality—intersectionality states that identities aren’t independent of other identities, but rather all of one’s identities exist in a complexly interwoven relationship. Queer and Black folks enter all spaces as both queer and Black, they can’t pick and choose or turn off an identity. This confluence of identity, though, shouldn’t be seen as something negative. Jonathan Leggette, a student from Evergreen State College, said it best when they noted “Everything I do, I’m bringing my Blackness... I have to claim it because I was given it. It’s a gift.”

Black History Month serves as an important time in the LGBTQ community to honor the trailblazers who came before us and thrived living at the intersections of Black and queer. Watch the video to hear from Jonathan, Savannah, and Briannah on how they celebrate their Black and queer identities.

Adrian Vega is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and junior at Stanford University studying Communication with a focus on Digital Media. He is currently interning at GLAAD as a Youth Engagement Intern.

Abdool Corlette is the Video Production Manager at GLAAD. He uses digital media to accelerate acceptance for all marginalized people. Abdool is a graduate of the School of Visual Arts.

To view the letter in PDF form click here.

Dear Mr. McConnell, Mr. Ryan, and Members of the 115th United States Congress:

We speak on behalf of the students who have perished before us. We stand with the students of Marjory Stoneman Douglas. We have accepted the responsibility to speak in the face of injustice and refuse to be silenced.

We represent the GLAAD Campus Ambassadors, a group of 130 students from colleges and universities in more than forty states nationwide. We strive to accelerate acceptance for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) people in our communities and beyond. Together with GLAAD, the world’s largest LGBTQ media advocacy organization, we amplify issues facing LGBTQ youth.

Make no mistake. Gun violence is an LGBTQ issue.

Since the fatal massacre at Columbine High School in 1999, we have witnessed more than 25 fatal school shootings in the United States. In total, there have been more people killed by gun violence in the last eighteen years than were killed by gun violence in the entire Twentieth Century. These numbers are at once shocking and unacceptable.

Our generation was born into the gunpowder left behind at Columbine, and we have witnessed an unprecedented progression of gun violence ever since. As students, we have learned about our national history in the same textbooks that have shielded us from stray bullets. We have grieved the tragic and untimely deaths of our young neighbors at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, witnessed the destruction of peace at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, and mourned the loss of our community at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando.

We and all Americans deserve to live in a country where we need not fear going to school, practicing our religion, or celebrating with friends. Our childhood has been tainted with memories of hiding beneath desks while our society grows numb to tragedy and our representatives in Washington and in far too many state legislatures fail to act. The unique talents, passions, and abilities of our generation are too precious to be lost to gun violence.

We believe that everyone - regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, gender identity, documentation, ability, or religion - has the right to exist in public without the fear of violence or harm. We refuse to accept the degradation of our society through senseless acts of unchecked gun violence and rampant domestic terror. We refuse to allow our lives to hang in the balance between gun lobbyist groups and our state and national elected leaders.

Death is not partisan. Preventing death should not be partisan. We urge you to protect our generation and the generations before and after us by enacting sensible gun reform that bans high powered assault weapons, bans bump stocks, requires universal background checks with no loopholes, and prohibits gun ownership for those convicted of domestic violence. This epidemic of mass murder has left our society in tatters, but these reforms would at least allow us to believe that the deaths before us have not been in vain, while serving the interest of protecting others from harm.

Every day, we are reminded of the young lives lost in Columbine, Virginia Tech, Newtown, Las Vegas, Sutherland Springs, San Bernardino, Orlando, Aurora, Charleston and Parkland. We are their voice now. We are their votes. We will remember.

Sincerely,

Aaron Giglio, CUNY Guttman Community College

Adrian Vega, Stanford University

Aisling McDermott, Le Moyne College

Andre Menchavez, University of Washington

Antonio Hernandez, University of Texas at Austin

Arlin Pedregon, University of New Mexico

Benjamin Webster, University of Maryland Eastern Shore

Bobby Brooks, Texas A&M University

Brianna Peralta, Avila University

Briannah Hill, University of Colorado

Brooklyn Riepma, The College of Idaho

C Mandler, Bard College

Carter Kohler, Ithaca College

Christina King, Boston College

Corinne Beverly, Virginia Commonwealth University

Daniel Segobiano, University of California Santa Cruz

Devin Outten, University of Maryland Eastern Shore

Donnie TC Denome, Pitzer College

Dorothy McIntush, Texas A&M University

Dylan Barker, Cleveland State University

Dylan Mattimore, University of California Riverside

Emma Louden, Princeton University

Fausto Cardenas, University of Central Florida

Federico Yniguez, California State University Long Beach

Gabriel Brown, Marshall University

Gregory Gushiken, University of Hawaii at Manoa

Halley Fine, Colby College

Hannah Oliver, Central Washington University

Harold López, Florida International University

Isaac Kovnator, College of Staten Island

Jacob Sutherland, University of California San Diego

James Washburn, Cornish College of the Arts

Jason Gurevitch, Colby College

Jay Williamson, Ithaca College

Jayson Bijak, University of Houston

Jeremy Wang, Brown University

Jonathan Leggette, The Evergreen State College

Joon Park, Boston College

José Granados, University of Texas at Austin

Josiah Masie, University of Wyoming

Kali Villarosa, Skidmore College

Kathleen Warner, Point Loma Nazarene University

Kay Moran, University of Oklahoma

Kayla Inman, St. John’s University

Kayla Santos, Rutgers University

Kylan Kester, Morehouse College

Leah Juliett, Western Connecticut State University

Leigh Fresina, Louisiana State University

Leo Richardson, Castleton University

Malachi Robinson, Montclair State University

Mark Young, Del Mar College

Mason Bernardo, Western Washington University

Matthew Keating, Harvard College

Megan Banning, Arizona State University

Mikaela Ashburn, Ohio University

Miles Joyner, University of South Carolina

Morgan Pasquier, University of Washington Tacoma

Nick Fiorellini, Bard College

Nicole Gemmiti, Berklee College of Music

Noah Perkins Deal, Prairie View A&M University

Olivia Zayas Ryan, Elon University

Owen Logios, University of Connecticut

Palmer Haasch, University of Minnesota Twin Cities

Prin Luis, University of South Florida

Ramenda Cyrus, Northwestern University

Rebecca Shoptaw, Yale University

Riley McGrath, Bridgewater State University

Rosemary Mulvey, Ithaca College

Rowan Berry, Rhode Island College

Rowan Hepps Keeney, Barnard College

Ryan Wagstaff, University of Washington

Savannah Green, Clark Atlanta University

Serena Garnett, Penn State University

Shayna Maci Warner, UCLA

Skylar Freels, University of Southern California

Skylar Rungren, University of Maine

Sophia Alexander, University of California Berkeley

Sorrel Rosin, University of Oregon

Sunanda Tamrakar, University of Pittsburgh

Taylor Dolniak, Point Park University

Teagan Rabuano, New York University

Tevis Robinson, Columbia University

Therynn Ibert, University of Houston

x rance, Ithaca College

Zakiyyah Forrest, Armstrong State University

Zipi Diamond, St. Olaf College

GLAAD Campus Ambassadors are a volunteer network of LGBTQ and ally college and university students who work with GLAAD and within their local communities to build an LGBTQ movement to accelerate acceptance and end hate and discrimination.

At the start of the second season of Disney Channel’s Andi Mack, the show made history for the network when main character Cyrus (Joshua Rush) came out to his friend Buffy (Sofia Wylie). Having a gay character in the core ensemble in Disney Channel’s most popular show is a huge leap forward and earned the show a GLAAD Media Award nomination in the new category, Outstanding Kids and Family Programming.

Tonight, Cyrus’ story continues in the extended, full-hour episode “Cyrus’ Bash-Mitzvah,” where, in addition to having his Bar Mitzvah, he finally tells Andi (Peyton Elizabeth Lee) about his crush on Jonah. In the episode, Andi and Jonah's relationship seems to be on the rocks after they disagree over calling each other "boyfriend" and "girlfriend." As Andi vents to Cyrus and Buffy, Cyrus opens up to her, saying, "Andi, you’re not the only one who likes Jonah. I like him too." After a moment's pause to process Andi fully accepts him, as did Buffy, and the two friends make him feel safe and protected. Andi and Cyrus immediately begin bonding over their shared crush, and become closer as friends for his honesty. In the episode, audiences also meet Cyrus’ parents for the first time who are supportive and proud of their son.

This was a big week for Andi Mack as the show was renewed for a third season! Audiences can look forward to exploring Cyrus’ story further, as well as more on the other important topics covered in the series. Andi Mack includes plots addressing issues faced by military veterans with Buffy’s mom, and ongoing themes of self-empowerment and embracing your most authentic self. These stories are connecting with audiences, making Andi Mack both Disney Channel’s most popular series and a top 10 series on all of cable TV among kids and girls aged 6-11.

Having a coming out story on such a popular show among young viewers is hugely important, and we hope to see other series following Andi Mack’s example. As Lee (Andi) told Teen Vogue, "I think kids who have those very real feelings and things that actually really do happen, seeing that on TV can give them the confidence to be more proud of who they are.”

Don’t miss Andi Mack on Disney Channel on Fridays at 8/7c. You can also catch up on the DisneyNOW app and on-demand.

GLAAD announced today that it is accepting applications for the 2018 Rising Stars Grants at the GLAAD Media Awards.

The GLAAD Rising Stars Grant Program celebrates young people’s commitment to accelerating LGBTQ acceptance within their communities and culture at large.

Grants are offered to support young people who are leveraging media to move hearts and minds and create change. The recipient will receive $2,500 to further fund their work and initiatives and will be honored at the GLAAD Rising Stars Luncheons in Los Angeles or New York City on Wednesday, April 10^th and Friday, May 4^th respectively. Hotel and travel accommodations included.

To become a recipient of the Rising Stars Grant, applicants must complete the online application form located on glaad.org/risingstars, and submit a short essay. The essay should explain how you would use this grant to create or improve a program in your community and include how and in what ways would you would use the media to amplify mission and increase the initiatives’ impact. The grant is available to a person or team of people and applicants can apply as individuals or as a team. Applications are due Sunday, March 18th, 2018 by midnight PST.

*Applicants must be available to travel to Los Angeles, CA for the GLAAD Rising Stars Luncheon on Wednesday, April 10th, 2018; and/or New York, NY on Friday, May 4^th, 2018. Applicants are asked to hold the following dates on their calendars (4/9/18 - 4/12/18 and 5/3/18 - 5/5/18).

This is the 2^nd annual Rising Stars Grants at GLAAD Media Awards in Los Angeles and New York. Inaugural grant recipients at those events had the opportunity to meet with celebs like Troye Sivan, Hannah Hart, Victoria Justice, and more to speak about LGBTQ advocacy. Highlights from the Los Angeles and New York ceremonies can be found here and here.

Former Rising Stars Grant recipients have been honored for their thoughtful work to address many issues facing their local communities, including: eliminating stigma experienced by undocumented queer youth through social media campaigns, increasing diversity of performers on college campuses by funding transgender entertainers and speakers, fostering conversation around diversity and inclusion in business through launching a podcast, and more!

The details:

A GLAAD-appointed committee will select recipients based on the strength of the following criteria:

• Applicant’s initiative positively affects marginalized communities, particularly LGBTQ people.
• Applicant’s initiative uses media advocacy to enhance representation for LGBTQ people.
• Applicant’s initiative uses an intersectional approach to LGBTQ advocacy.

Key dates for applicants:

• Tuesday, February 27th, 2018: applications available.
• Sunday, March 18th, 2018: applications due by midnight PST.
• Monday, March 26th, 2018: All applicants are notified of status; recipients notified.
• Wednesday, April 11th, 2018: Select Rising Stars Grant recipient(s) to attend GLAAD Rising Stars Luncheon in Los Angeles; and Thursday, April 12th, 2018: Select Rising Stars Grant recipient(s) to attend GLAAD Media Awards in Los Angeles.
  • OR
• Friday, May 4th, 2018: Select Rising Stars Grant recipient(s) to attend GLAAD Rising Stars Luncheon in New York City; and Saturday, May 5th, 2018: Select Rising Stars Grant recipient(s) to attend GLAAD Media Awards in New York City.

For further inquiries click here.

Like so many other people this past month, I decided it was time to care a lot about winter sports. The Olympics enthralled me with the jumps, the spins, the high speed action, and support of the record number of openly queer athletes at the Winter Olympics. Millions of people all over the world got to see the faces, athletic feats, and open queerness of the LGBTQ athletes through the media.

This representation felt amazing. But for me, the most important moment was when The New York Times posted an interview with Adam Rippon discussing his eating disorder. The article confronted how eating disorders are an open secret in the skating community, and it seemed to me the article was also exploring the open secret of eating disorders within the queer community.

Rippon’s story gives us a much needed opportunity discuss this problem out in the open. His story is not the beginning of our conversation as a community and we cannot let it be the end. Mainstream media, including queer media, often jokes about the body-focused culture in the gay community: the constant pressures of what our bodies look like, spending all our free time at the gym, and how self-conscious we are about how others will perceive us. But this issue expands beyond just the gay male community.

LGBTQ people, especially youth, face certain challenges and experiences that make us more likely to develop eating disorders, like fear of social or family rejection, internalized negativity about our identities, and more. In fact, ​​​​​​studies show that high rates of eating disorders are comparable among queer men of all races and LGBTQ women have an increased risk of developing an eating disorder. When 42% of all men who have eating disorders identify as gay it is important to talk about how we are addressing or possibly exacerbating this issue within our own community.

Most of the queer people I see represented in the media are white gay men whose bodies are seen as traditionally beautiful–they are thin, or muscular, or oftentimes both. These men became seen as the norm for our community and represent a nearly impossible standard to compare ourselves to.

The only queer people I saw growing up that were accepted in mainstream society were from the media, and those individuals were all thin. These people were viewed as ideal representations of LGBTQ life and I thought I also needed to be just as perfect. I thought, if I wasn’t thin I wasn’t the perfect gay person who could be accepted. It seemed being thin was the only thing that could make me worthy of being accepted, not only accepted by my straight friends, but also accepted by the gay community.

At the time of discovering my identity as queer, I was scared about how I would be perceived, so I tried to take care of the most visible thing that it seemed like I could control–my body. Growing up, I would barely eat because each time I ate it felt like I was letting myself down and that I would never be accepted.

Once I came out and felt more comfortable, many of these fears have diminished. I’m now able to eat meals somewhat regularly, and found that the queer community isn’t always as focused on bodies, and now as I’ve realized that I’m gray-asexual—someone who identifies between asexual and sexual—and I’m not particularly focused on other bodies either. Still, the hatred I once felt towards my body is harder to shake. I still fear that other people—whether LGBTQ or straight—will never be able to love or accept me because of my body.

Eating disorders are an LGBTQ issue that is affecting our whole community, and just like Adam Rippon, we need to talk about it, we need to remember to love each other, and we need to remind ourselves that we are perfect for who we are.

If you are looking to find support check out: www.nationaleatingdisorders.org. 

To learn about Adam Rippon's fundraiser supporting LGBTQ youth click here.

Jason Gurevitch is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and junior at Colby College studying Computer Science and Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies. Jason is passionate about providing inclusive sex-ed programming at his college and conducting research studies about the gray-asexual community.

Have LGBTQ women ever experienced ultimate Academy Awards glory? In short—not really. But if last night’s LGBTQ representation is any indication of the trajectory of the Oscars, the future might be female.

In order to understand the meaning of last night’s widespread LGBTQ representation, we must remember the past. The most celebrated films featuring queer women in recent history were the 2010 film, The Kids Are All Right, and the 2015 film, Carol. While Carol was nominated in six categories, and The Kids Are All Right was nominated in four categories, including Best Picture, neither received a single award on their Oscars nights. Other recent notable LGBTQ films centering around stories of women, including Blue is the Warmest Color and Tangerine, have similarly been snubbed at the Oscars.

Last night, however, Daniela Vega made LGBTQ history at the 90th Annual Academy Awards. Vega, the star of Chile's A Fantastic Women, first took the stage as part of the team accepting the Best Foreign Language Film award and later, as a presenter to introduce Sufjan Stevens as a musical performer. As Vega walked the stage, she carried the immense, historical weight of being the first-ever openly transgender woman to present at the Academy Awards.

A Fantastic Woman's win and Vega’s on-stage moments are just a few examples of strong and diverse LGBTQ representation at the 2018 Academy Awards. This year, Lady Bird, The Shape of Water, Call Me by Your Name, A Fantastic Woman, Strong Island, Mudbound, Coco, and The Greatest Showman all featured LGBTQ nominees on screen and/or in production. The show also featured many powerful LGBTQ-inclusive moments, including Janet Mock's apperance in Common and Andra Day's performance of  “Stand Up for Something,” Debra Chasnoff's touching memoriam, and more.

In an industry that features such limited and often defamatory transgender representation in major studio productions, Vega’s presence and platform shines a much-needed light on transgender talent in film. In addition, Yance Ford, a Black transgender man, was the first openly transgender director ever nominated for an Academy Award in the Best Documentary Feature category. Both of these historic firsts invite viewers to recognize the brilliance and potential of transgender industry professionals who have historically been shut out from Hollywood’s biggest stage.

Vega’s role as Marina in A Fantastic Woman is stunning—and if you have not seen it yet, what are you waiting for!—but it was her role as a presenter that made the most on-stage history. Let’s just break it down: a transgender woman, who is the centerpiece lead in an Oscar-winning film about a transgender character, introduces a performance of the Oscar-nominated song about queer love in an Oscar-nominated queer-centric film.

This. Moment. Was. LGBTQ. Magic.

But if you weren’t looking closely you may have missed an important addition to Sufjan’s performance. That addition was Annie Clark aka St. Vincent, an openly queer woman, playing guitar and singing alongside Sufjan in their touching performance of “Mystery of Love.”

Objectively speaking—of course—St. Vincent is a queer rock goddess, and her presence on stage during this historic Oscars moment matters too. Bringing in St. Vincent allows us as queer women to grab hold of Call Me by Your Name and claim it as a narrative that we own too.

The song “Mystery of Love,” appears in the film Call Me by Your Name in a dream-like sequence showcasing a getaway trip for the main characters, Elio and Oliver. During this montage, the audience is invited into a world of queer love that is out in the open and unafraid, a stark contrast in tone from the film’s more repressed earlier scenes.

By itself, the song is powerful, but within the context of Call Me by Your Name, “Mystery of Love” is heartbreaking in the most beautiful way. From the plucky intro to the whispery first lines, “Oh to see without my eyes the first time that you kissed me,” “Mystery of Love” engulfs the listener in a contemplative yet blissful memory of young love.

Hearing “Mystery of Love,” while watching Elio’s feelings bloom, took me back to strikingly familiar moments in my coming out experience. I, too, was wrought with an intoxicating combination of shame and excitement as I fell in love for the first time. This exploration was at the same time painful and peaceful, as I finally felt the feelings of love and deep connection I had longed for... and had resolved would always remain unrequited.

Seeing Elio experience the same dark and beautiful moments was cathartic for me, as I now live a very open and happy life as a queer person. It was difficult to recall those memories, but it's important for me to recognize that my painful past is still a reality for so many young LGBTQ people. This is what invigorates me to work harder to be a part of the movement of increasing LGBTQ representation in the media. When we as LGBTQ people are seen as the fully realized humans that we are, our stories can push culture forward and change lives.  

Call Me by Your Name focuses keenly on the nuances of queer intimacy, yet the film’s emotional power lies in its ability to resonate with a wide audience. Call Me by Your Name joins Boys Don't Cry, Brokeback Mountain, and Moonlight, as some of the most critically acclaimed Oscar-winning LGBTQ focused films of the last twenty years. However, we should not allow ourselves to believe that we as an LGBTQ community have found ourselves wholly represented in the Academy quite yet. While these films represent distinctly powerful stories, they all either center around fictional queer and cisgender men or include transgender characters played by cisgender actors.

Celebrating queerness on Hollywood’s biggest stage cannot only recognize—and therefore only affirm—queer male love.The queer experience belongs to women and non-binary people just as much as it does to queer men. And while there are many factors that play into why The Kids Are All Right, Carol and other LGBTQ-women-led films are not winning, we are still left with the same conclusion: LGBTQ women deserve Oscar gold, and we cannot cease sharing our stories until we are given the same opportunities and accolades as everyone else.

Clare Kenny is a Campaigns Manager at GLAAD. She leads GLAAD's Youth Engagement including the Campus Ambassador Program, Rising Stars Grants Program, and amp series. Clare is a graduate of Skidmore College.

I spent all of my childhood waiting for someone to save me. I wasn't sure who I was, and I didn't know if I wanted to find out. I thought that I could walk the line of who I knew myself to be and who the world expected me to be. I ran myself ragged walking the tightrope back and forth, unsure of where to go. Many of us LGBTQ kids expect for someone with all the knowledge to hold up a mirror and show us that piece of ourselves that we are too frightened to discover alone.

My first few years in college were spent trying to fit the stereotypical, hyper-masculine ideals desirable to gay men or worthy of approval from men in my family. At one point, I seemingly achieved these ideals. I had been working out, ridding my closet of clothes not “manly” enough, and keeping a fresh, crisp haircut. My brother and I actually began speaking to each other on a regular basis, and my stepfather said he was proud of me. 

I was pushing myself to conform, yet I gravitated more and more to these strong women who defied cisnormative, Eurocentric expectations. I knew who I was meant to be, but I remained cautious for quite some time. This internal struggle led to nearly flunking all my classes last spring, isolating myself from more and more friends, and avoiding my family for the better part of six months.

My freshman year, Laverne Cox came to my campus. I didn’t know why I was so drawn to her, but I knew something about her was special. During her speech, Laverne referenced her friend, Janet Mock, and mentioned Janet’s then-recently published memoir, “Redefining Realness.” After the event, I immediately ran home and bought a copy on iBooks.

That night, I sat in the darkness of my dorm room, alone. The only sound I heard was my own heart going a mile a minute while I read the first few pages. As I read Janet’s descriptions of her childhood experiences, something in me cracked. I felt an intense outpouring of emotion, confusion, and, ultimately, revelation.

Her reflection on displaying femininity and outlining the ways in which she was reprimanded by non-LGBTQ people for her behavior not fitting society’s norms felt too familiar. I questioned why I was able to relate strongly to these words written about a trans woman’s life. Just four years ago, I had come out as a gay man to my friends and family. That was supposed to be it for me.

Growing up, I did not have many images or stories told by or about people like me. I did, however, feel a connection to "Their Eyes Were Watching God" by Zora Neale Hurston. In "Their Eyes Were Watching God," the main character Janie confided all of her struggles and secrets in her best friend Pheoby. Janet described in "Redefining Realness" that she too had a friend she could confide in, Wendi Miyake, that made all the difference. I didn't have a Wendi or a Pheoby... But when I turned to Janet Mock's books and got to hear her story I finally felt that I had someone, a confidant who knew how I was feeling and made me feel safe when I was scared.

When I finished reading Janet Mock’s “Redefining Realness,” I felt empowered and seen—maybe for the first time. I spent three years reading the first third of her memoir over and over again before reaching completion. Just last year, I finally buckled down and accepted my truth: I am a trans woman.

As the summer came to a close and I managed to improve my grades, I saved up some money and began hormone replacement therapy. I confided in several close friends and began my transition. That same day, I took my first estrogen shot, and I was granted another blessing: I received my free copy of Janet Mock’s “Surpassing Certainty” from a Facebook sweepstakes. It was fate. Everything was falling into place.

The months that ensued were no cakewalk, though. I walked through campus receiving a multitude of confused and condemning looks from many of my peers. While some people saw my Facebook post “coming out” as Eva, many did not, and even those who did were not necessarily receptive. Nonetheless, I forced myself to get out of bed, day after day, and finish my education. I even began saying an internal chant naming Black trans women I admired most, including Janet Mock, Laverne Cox, Angelica Ross, Leyna Bloom, Maya Mones, Monica Roberts, Ashlee Marie Preston, Munroe Bergdorf, Juliana Huxtable and the iconic Tassandra Crush (a St. Louis legend and an old friend).

A few weeks ago, I met Janet Mock for the first time. I still have no words to describe the experience. While she never knew of me prior to that moment, and I never knew her, aside from her writings and interviews, I felt seen. I felt like I was meeting a long-lost friend.

Our conversation was short, but it was fulfilling nonetheless. It truly was a full circle moment. I went from being that girl hidden under the covers in her freshman dorm room to being out in the open, standing beside her hero. Not many girls like me are able to reach this journey as easily. Many others are out struggling each day outside of the institutional walls of higher education. I have been able to access necessary information that many others don’t have the same access to.

Black trans girls deserve to be represented, but Janet's stories give us more than representation: they give us hope. This experience has been my savior. Many girls like me dream of a savior. We dream it before even telling the world who we really are. We crave reflection. We yearn for validation. We ache for understanding. I am fortunate enough to have gotten even a small piece of this, but this did not come in the form of a knight in shining armor. I got a role model through the power of literature and the power of representation, and that is priceless.

Eva Reign Thomas is a GLAAD Campus Ambassador and senior at the University of Missouri studying Graphic Design. She has worked for her university in Student Affairs, Residential Life, and the MU LGBTQ Resource Center. Eva advocates on behalf of her communities through creative means including inclusive marketing and advertising and student programming.

We're excited to bring you this interview with Ellie Desautels, who plays Michael on the new NBC drama Rise. Michael is a transgender high school student who joins the theater department's production of Spring Awakening. When the series starts, Michael is already socially transitioned at school, using his new name and he/him pronouns. The role Michael plays in the musical within the series is a male part. Rise is created by Jason Katims who brought us Friday Night Lights and Parenthood, along with Hamilton producer Jeffrey Seller, and Flody Suarez. Check it out on Tuesdays at 9:00pm ET / 8:00pm CT on NBC, or wherever you catch NBC's streaming content.

When you first read the Rise script, what drew you to play Michael?
Well, while I found the script for the pilot amazing, my desire to play Michael didn't derive from the script. The plot was interesting and gripping, and of course the character description for Michael resonated with me deeply, but what ultimately made me want to play Michael was knowing that the creators were auditioning transgender actors and wanted to ensure that Michael’s story was portrayed authentically. It was so exciting to think that I could be actively involved in improving trans representation on TV, considering it is my other passion. That I could act and improve trans representation at the same time? It certainly felt like the job for me.

You and the character you play are both part of the trans community. Michael is a trans boy while you identify as non-binary. How did you approach playing Michael?
I identify as non-binary and I also strongly identify as trans-masculine, which to me means that I have a strong connection to my masculinity. My trans experience had a big influence in the development of Michael. I was also inspired by trans teens I had the pleasure of speaking with through Facebook. But I can only ever know my own experience. I can't replicate someone else's. I feel that Michael and I coexist in the same trans experience, but we use different terms to label it. Plus, Michael is more than his gender identity, and our high school experiences are pretty similar! I was once a teenager doing high school drama, and I was a teenager who loved to sing. So a lot of Michael came from who I am as a person and from my teenage human experience. But he's much more practical than I am. That part of him is inspired by my fiancé.

What was the audition process like?
It all happened at Telsey & Co. Have to give them a shoutout for their gender neutral bathrooms! The first audition was easy with one person and a camera. I prepared a bit of a song to sing and I had to prepare a monologue they provided. The next day I was told I would have a callback the following week. I was told the producers and the director would be in the room, and I purposely decided not to look any of them up so I could treat it like all my other auditions and not create unnecessary pressure for myself. It was my first ever professional callback.

So I walked in to a room full of the bright faces of artistic people. I felt comfortable and I just performed a different song for them, the same monologue, and they all looked moved. It was a great callback. I almost got on a train home when my manager called me saying they wanted to hear me sing again. I was shocked, but I went back and sang for them again and they looked just as moved. I thanked them and went home. I'm still not sure why they wanted to hear me a second time.

The next day was agony! That morning, my managers said something like "They loved you. Nothing's official, but it's looking good. Just have to wait to hear," and all day it was like that. "It looks good!" Me texting them every hour "Any word??" Just getting responses like "Nothing yet!" and "It's looking really good!" All day until 9:30 at night, just as I was starting rehearsal as music director with my college a cappella group. My manager, Mel, called and they said "Guess what?" and I silently went into a hallway and I think I said something like "No f*cking way" and Mel told me I got the part and I must have said "Are you serious?" or something because my a cappella group heard and started screaming. So I went outside and Mel congratulated me and I just started crying. I called my mom and we sobbed and then I called my fiancé and continued crying. I went back to rehearsal and it took like ten minutes to stop crying. It was an unbelievable experience.

This is your first broadcast network show, which is exciting. And on a show created by Jason Katims who executive produced Friday Night Lights and Parenthood. What was it like working with Jason Katims and the cast?
It was quite a life-changing experience to act in scenes with or alongside such well-known actors as Josh Radnor, Rosie Perez, and Auli'i Cravalho, but it became normal very quickly. Not only was I working with the cast, I formed relationships and great friendships with many of them and everyone casually accepted the fact that I'm trans.

Working with Jason Katims was a dream. From the very beginning, Jason valued my thoughts and input on Michael's story and how to best represent him. After the pilot, just as he was beginning to write the rest of season one, Jason reached out to me and we had a long phone discussion. He wanted to learn about my life as a trans person, wanted to know the nuances of my identity, what I experience daily, and also my thoughts about Michael and where I thought his story could go. After that I reached out to him a few more times whenever I thought of more important things to tell him and he always made time for me. He was consistently open to learning more and always wanted to listen to me. He valued me and my thoughts and always assured me it was because he wanted to tell Michael's story the right way. He gained my complete trust. I have always felt safe with Jason and I knew Michael was safe in his hands, too.

TV and films roles are typically gendered. How do you choose which roles you want to pursue? What's your experience been with casting directors and at auditions?
Right now I go for whatever roles I'm comfortable with. Roles I feel comfortable playing and those I find interesting. At the moment, I feel most comfortable going out for the few non-binary roles that are offered and trans-masculine roles. But that could change in the future. I don't ever want to limit myself in my craft, and pushing myself out of my comfort zone helps me grow as an actor. But sometimes I need to allow myself comfort in order to flourish as a human.

So far I've only had good experiences with auditions and casting directors, but I've heard other stories from trans women and trans-feminine people about their not-so-good experiences. Many of them were weren't considered for transgender roles because they "don't look trans enough." That idea, that trans characters need to look a certain way, rules out many trans artists. It also devalues us as people by saying trans people must "look trans." Some transgender people are recognizably trans – others aren't. We need roles written for everyone – and casting directors should then know how to cast those roles accordingly.

In the premiere episode of Rise, the drama teacher asks your character which name he wants to use. What was it like to play that scene?
That scene was huge for me for a few reasons. The first being that it was my first ever professional scene, the second that it was with Josh Radnor (and at that point I was still star-struck), and the third being that it was a major moment for my character. Looking back on it, I realize that scene was the start of my career and it was also the beginning of making a difference in the lives of transgender youth. It's a very empowering scene and I hope it gives trans kids confidence in themselves. When we were done shooting that scene, Rosie Perez came to me to tell me that my work was beautiful. I don't think she knows how much that meant to me.

As part of the trans community, what do you hope viewers take away from your character and storyline on Rise?
You'll see as the season continues that what Jason, the writers, and I did with Michael was depict a transgender teen whose life is more than being transgender. Michael's story isn't about him figuring out he's trans or his transition. When the show starts, his parents know and he's already attending school as Michael. Part of Michael's story is about the obstacles that real trans youth face, but Jason and the writers also put Michael in situations that any teen can relate to. So, I hope that Michael and his storyline can be a reminder to the viewers that we as trans people are not defined by our gender identities and our lives don't revolve around being trans 24/7. We are human and experience life in all its complexities, just like everyone else.

What type of representation of non-binary characters would you like to see in future films and TV shows? And would you like to play a non-binary character in the future?
The future is vast and full of potential for amazing, accurate, positive representation of non-binary folk. I'm grateful that I have this platform to speak out as a non-binary person who was assigned female at birth. But I want to see just as much time - or more - given to non-binary people who are assigned male at birth. They experience so much more transphobia and negative reactions in this world. Show me a non-binary parent, a non-binary teacher, non-binary superheroes and couples, and show me a non-binary person running their own business. Show me eccentric non-binary folk and modest non-binary folk. Non-binary people of color. Non-binary people with curves. I want to see it all! All these kinds of non-binary people, and more, exist in the world. Who wouldn't want to tell all of their interesting stories? And of course I want to play a non-binary character. I want to play many in the future! But I need people to start creating more, and I need networks to hire non-binary writers to create them.

Photo Credits: NBC/Virginia Sherwood