This prompts this time were:
Caterpillars take their time, so why can’t I?
The birds have a story to tell
Stuck in neutral
I found myself struggling to write, so I decided to write directly to my participants. You can find that piece below.
Well, listen. I really want to write something profound. I want to move you the way you’ve moved me; I want to tell you made up stories about brave gay boys and wise women, but I am not Armisted Maupin and this is not a Tales of the City moment.
I want to tell you about kind mothers who knew about loving their little boys without judgment, mothers who taught their boys to bake, and sing, who clapped with them when those boys danced on their toes. Someday my prince will come.
I want to sing to you now, something Broadway big and vaguely familiar, to build up to the perfect final lines: The cold never bothered me anyway.
I want to do this, all of this, for you, for all of you, brave, bright, beautiful, bold, brilliant you, to remind you that you still have stories to tell and that there are people who want to hear them. To remind you that if you are afraid, this will pass. That there are safe places to write, to sit, to think, that there are people who are going to welcome you and protect you and love and respect you.
I want to tell you all of this with beautiful modifiers, clever alliteration, and gorgeous metaphors, but all I have is ten minutes, and this pen that’s running out of ink, and this little body racing against time, and my little heart, beating, beating, beating, holding your words here, right here, now.