A reminder of who we are

As queer leaders in our community, we are using our voices, our lived experiences, and our roles to speak against Iowa’s current introduction of these 29 bills in the state Legislature. Bills that serve as nothing short of hatred and a short sighted attempt to exterminate that which will not be extinguished. Bills introduced to silence, erase, shame, and strip identity, protections and personhood from LGBTQ Iowans, our families, and our communities.

This is a call-in. It is a beacon. It is a reminder that we have always been here and we will always be here and we will not bend, wilt, or hide. We will not feel shame for how we identify and who we love.

We both know well what it means to live in the shadows for fear of being found out. We came of age in the 90s and early 2000s. Subjected to the sparse and negative narratives of queer life in America-the fear and disgust of LGBTQ people which fell on the heels of the AIDS crisis.

As young people, we silently feared and mourned the loss of identity, belonging, our futures and, at times, our lives. What existed for people like us? Who could love us? There were no gay penguin books in our school libraries to ban, no queer TV characters who represented our lives (if they existed they were often seen as mentally ill, criminal or ended up committing suicide), no out- LGBTQ legislators. Despite that, we made it. We bucked the narrow definitions of identity that society laid out for us. We created the world we wanted to live in through drag performance, making art, and forming family bonds outside of those who disowned us. We discovered ourselves, we found our partners, we grew our community, and we made our families. We did not bear the weight of forging a path and life and existence for ourselves only to dim our lights in dark periods like this.

And what’s more is that a world where people can simply be who they are without causing harm to others or themselves sounds like such a simple and basic freedom. And yet, this state fails to grapple with the real harms of increased rent evictions, hungry children in our communities, and instead focuses on sharpening the knives of their next election bid on the backs of our young people.

We will not be silent. We will be allies. Advocates. And safe spaces. Our community has so many gifts that we’ve offered to the world. We are cherished authors, culinary experts, fierce policymakers, radical caretakers, artists, social workers, dreamers and movers and shakers. We are all we have. They will not steal us from us. We must support and love each other unconditionally. As the late Harvey Milk said “I know you can't live on hope alone. But without hope, life is not worth living. So you, and you and you: You got to give them hope. You got to give them hope!” We will give you hope. And when we lose ours, we will turn to you to find it again. We will get through this and we will not do it by hiding in the closets and meeting in quiet places. We will outwardly, loudly, and unapologetically celebrate and experience queer joy and continue to demand we have the rights and freedoms to exist and thrive.

Talia Meidlinger (she/her) is executive director of United Action for Youth. V Fixmer-Oraiz (they/them) is a Johnson County Supervisor