In an America consumed by social media and 24-hour news, we may have forgotten how to communicate with each other. Civility is giving way to polarization, and we’ve both invigorated and sullied our use of language. The way that we use words can unify or divide, seek the truth or mislead, build up or tear down, provide comfort or spread fear.

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As a queer person I see how hypocrisy, bigotry and censorship has made life frightening and shameful for my community, especially for younger people. While the LGBTQI+ community makes significant strides in terms of societal acceptance, political fear-mongering attempts to take away fundamental rights. As an older, queer person, I’ve seen this pattern of scapegoating and finger-pointing at our community so often before.

Informed by the intersection of a complicated upbringing. My Catholic school-life was immersed with rituals, confessionals, civility, and verbal abuse. Juxtaposed with a loving home-life that was secretive, sad, chaotic, and violent. It seemed that danger was always around the corner. I compare my childhood home life to the current political landscape we find ourselves in.

In the work I do, I navigate the beauty of ritual with the hopelessness of penance. Parochial and political, my work offers both
a celebration of sadness and a hopeful triumph over it. In a seemingly aggressive world, I hope to find a place of comfort and connection and share it with, not only my community, but with the community at large.