Letter to our Queer & Trans Youth

Hey, you.

I thought I’d start this letter by telling you a little about myself, just so you know who you’re dealing with. I’m an emotional dad, father to three amazing kids who we met through the foster care system, and whose presence in our lives has really transformed my sense of responsibility to the communities that surround us. The connections we’ve made with one another, with our extended families, and with the communities where we live and look for belonging have catapulted us into this whirlwind of emotional tumult which, while not easy by any stretch of the measure, has also been remarkably healing. I realize ours is really only a one-sided chosen family, since our kids didn’t get to choose to live here, but I’d like to think that they did choose to let us love them, which allowed them to grow to love us. And I think that’s where I want to go with this letter- to a place where you can find belonging and healing- even if the pathway there may be peppered with some emotional tumult.

Like a lot of queer kids, I was convinced that I was going to be a star. I liked to perform- to sing, to act, and to speak in front of large groups of people. Sometimes being on stage helps you forget how lonely you are or how much you feel like you don’t belong, and the affirmation of strangers for your performance can be easier to take than looking for those kinds of assurances from people who actually know you (or maybe should know you). Performing can come so naturally for many of us, as we try to find ways of being that won’t cause our friends or family to reject us. “They won’t understand,” I often imagined, or even worse, “they’ll turn their backs on me.” That is, in fact, what happened when I first came out to my sister and then my parents, and so I kept performing- remaining attentive to external things that would keep them focused on what I could do as opposed to who I am. Star perfomer, star speaker, star student. What’s not to like?

Only over time I began to realize that putting all of that attention on doing things instead of being things made the loneliness and fear of rejection even worse. And it began to occur to me that stars may be bright and dazzling at night, but they are also hidden during the day, and I was tired of hiding. And then I thought about how stars, while beautiful and brilliant when visible, are even more interesting and magical when viewed in groups or collectives, joining with other stars to create the constellations. If you don’t already know, there are a lot of queer and trans people who are into astrology, and I think I was beginning to understand why. Instead of hiding myself during the day and coming out at night to perform, I learned that I could focus my attention on finding a place where my star belonged, where I could be not just appreciated but where my presence was vital to creating something collective, something more. And even when my light wasn't visible, I was still part of something.

And that’s what I want to offer to you, young reader, wherever you fall on the 2SLGBTQ+ spectrum: a place to belong, to be seen, to be valued and to be celebrated for your specific and brilliant shine, whatever that may be, and wherever that may fit as a part of whatever constellation feels best. And I want to remind you that the constellations don’t always look the same and they require some creativity to be seen at times, hidden by clouds or viewed from different places and defined by other celestial reflections, so don’t take this as an invitation to limit yourself or fit into a specific new box. Just ask Pluto, who was once thought to be a planet until we took the time to learn more and get their identity right. The sky is massive and celestial bodies are without boundaries, which means there’s room for all of us, and it also means each of us is a vital part of the tapestry of sparkling light that creates the universe.

To bring us back to earth, however, let me close by saying this: this world needs you. Every day I learn something new and every night I go to sleep grateful for the ways the people in my life (especially my kids) have shown me something I didn’t realize, or allowed me to show up in ways I didn’t know I could. Your strength, your individuality, your unique beauty, your experiences of the world- those are all gifts that we all need to heal and grow and transform. Just like a constellation needs every star, and the sky needs every sparkle, this world needs your unique brilliance. Don’t let that shine be diminished by those who are too foolish or too scared to appreciate it, and know there are so many of us so grateful for your light.

With love for you to the moon and back,

F Cade Swanson