TW: trans assault, death; genocide
Within the first week of coming out as openly non-binary, Nex Benedict was killed. As a 16-year old two-spirit and non-binary student in Oklahoma, they were assaulted in school, left untreated, and died the following day. The news shook me in ways I wasn’t anticipating — thinking about what my trajectory might look like if I had come out at a younger age. I was reminded that feeling safe in a queer body offers the depth of truly loving myself and the transparency of being harmed at any given moment.
I do not live in Oklahoma, but I do live firmly planted within the Bible-Belt. There are very clear and very harmful Anti-Trans/Queer bills in Tennessee and Florida reminding me that while I live in Atlanta — a city that has some of the most challenging racial and environmental politics of any city in the nation — we are surrounded by very conservative, very white, and heavily-funded politicians who protect the lineage of the highest ruling class with a firm grip.
I witness my own relationship to queerness — a gateway to deepen my spiritual practice — a gateway to deepen my activism. Being Queer feels like giving my oppressor the tools to readily discriminate against my personhood because the law supports them to do so. My relationship to self pushes me up against the fragile edges of my anxiety for the sake of defending myself, supporting myself, and ultimately loving myself first.
My identity allows me to see right through the veil of perceived allyship for the empty gestures in which they really are. The passivity in breaking bread with people I disagree with has no place in my current practice when it means sacrificing my own needs. I no longer have interest in upholding comfort when the religion of “praying for you” seems like a sufficient enough gesture of aid for those who are tactfully being harassed, assaulted, and starved to death.
My practice is splintering. It’s pushed me up against my ethics and my actions. The charade of committing back to a crumbling democratic system this year weighs heavy on my heart. How do we fight within the master’s system?
We don’t.
I circle back to the people, the land, and spirit. It’s becoming increasingly more difficult to uphold the world I’ve always been a part of, the return to “normalcy” that the systems keep pushing on us, and the world we’re building.
My current practice is such: Allow people to show you who they are and believe them. That’s it. A lesson in un-attachment; a lesson in self-preservation. One that I keep close to my chest and spine as I navigate the choppy waters of choosing to be fighting during such tumultuous times. It allows me to root back into hope when everything around me attempts to rob me of my imagination. Take care of yourselves; take care of each other.
🌱 Altar on 3/20 from 5-8pm (a witchy new venue with the Masquerade)
🌱 Psychic Fair on 3/31 from 12-5pm (can sponsor tix if need be)
🌱 Market Hugs on 4/6 from 1-8pm with Little Five Points Fest
🌱 Resident spot at Estoria Market on 4/7 from 11-6pm
🌱 Donation-based tarot sessions every Friday on my website
Protect your Spirit!