But can we talk about what everyone is wearing to Pride, General Assembly, around the house in 90 degree weather, the beach and the cookout? There are so many options to how we adorn ourselves and articulate our lifeforce….

Not wanting my parents to find out about my newly blended Black/queer life on the 6 o’clock news; I took a deep breath and made “The Phone Call”.

The line “In the moonlight, black boys look blue” will likely go down as one of my favorite movie lines of all time. This line captures and reclaims the beauty and softness of queer black bodies that is so often stripped away from us. I felt visible when I watched this film…validated even. I needed this film.

As we celebrate Pride in 2018, I am proud of the courage and resilience of our beloved LGBTQ and Non-Binary Unitarian Universalists who are showing up in the common struggle for justice and truth. Thanks to you, we continue the vital work of building Beloved Community

This reflection comes from Rev. Michael J. Crumpler, UUA’s LGBTQ and Intercultural Programs Manager in Multicultural Growth and Witness….

But more than any program or initiative, it is the lived experience of queer and non-binary folx in our congregations that is the real measure of inclusivity. Here’s where the intersectionality of race, gender, age and sexuality play out, because the younger generations in our congregations (and the whole United States) are less straight and less white.

In late spring of 2003, nearly 15 years ago now, I was classified to a bunk at Ft. Devens prison with a man named Douglas. We later learned that we were intentionally bunked together with the hope that we would have conflict with each other.

You might wonder why a little church in upstate NY is doing this. There are many reasons, but the most pertinent one is that we are a congregation of deep welcome. We know and practice it. We are certified as a “Welcoming Congregation,” and we know that if that means anything then we have to practice welcome.

I see many similarities between “passing” and being “in the closet.” Ironically, while many black people view passing as betrayal, they fail to see the similarities between being black and being queer. By dimensioning queerness as a choice that can be acted on or avoided, they are asking us to choose to “pass” rather than live openly in our truth. Which begs the question, is being in the closet not just a survival tactic?

There is a spiritual loneliness when looking for your people in the eyes of a congregation that is well read, but not well practiced in the art of addressing racial and trans justice. As a Black trans person whose history has been stolen, erased, and gaslit I had to take intentional steps to piece together a faith practice that didn’t just acknowledge me as a full being, in all my Blackness and transness, but also the reality of the world I exist in at this current moment in time.