Column: A Lifetime of Looking for Home

When I was a small child home was simply the house in which I lived. My parents and siblings were there, it held comfortable and familiar material belongings, and most rules and expectations were clearly defined. I was fed and cared for and most of my needs were provided for. I really did not think about how to define home because I did not know anything else. For a time, I just accepted that the environment my parents provided was what home was supposed to be. There is no clear point that I can remember when that began to change but change it did.

Column: Becoming the Queer Ancestors

I call the queer ancestors the Rainbow Dead. This term specifies their special place in our collective histories as well as in our spiritual practices. Ancestors need not be of our blood in order to be potent allies in our lives and work. It just takes us getting to know them, and a recognition of the work that they did to lay a foundation upon which we today may walk.