The setting sun outside steeped the city in gold, and a pleasant breeze carried the scent of budding flowers. He remembered the open fields of Anna’s family home, breaths of summer wind rustling the curtains as Anna painted by the window. 

He never should have brought her to the city.

April 2025 marks the 55th anniversary of Earth Month. What initially started as an environmental awareness day in the United States is now an annual celebration across the world. Over the years, billions of people have joined forces to continue educating while advocating for policies that better protect communities, habitats, and wildlife. This year, the theme—Our Power, Our Planet—calls for an increase in renewable energy generation.

In February, I was an instructor at an arts-infusion workshop for a group of Seattle Public School elementary teachers. The workshop was held at an amazing multi-arts space that I had no idea existed in Seattle: PublicDisplay.ART. Arts Impact, the organization I teach with, acquired the use of the multipurpose space at no cost—an arts space that can be reserved and used for FREE! “How is that possible?” I asked myself. I connected with Marty Griswold, the Publisher of PublicDisplay.Art (they also publish a hard-copy magazine) and he filled me in on all the details. 

The Tesla Takedown protests began in February 2025, shortly after the inauguration of Donald Trump, who was flanked by tech billionaires Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerburg, Jeff Bezos, and Sundar Pichai. But the Musk/Trump alliance became apparent earlier than that at an election victory party where the Tesla CEO sieg-heiled on stage. Soon after the inauguration, Musk wasted no time ingratiating himself and planting his Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), a taskforce created by Donald Trump after Elon Musk floated the idea in an interview with the president-elect.

In the second month of 2023, I started taking testosterone injections once a week. There had been several years of hand-wringing and self-doubt up to that point. Was this the right decision? What if I regretted it (although few actually do)? What if I drowned in ass hair? 

That date, three days before my 28th birthday, is when the US Supreme Court handed down the decision in Obergefell v. Hodges that ensured same-sex couples the right to marry. I remember crying as I read the news and saw the videos. I was so ebullient in fact that I took to Facebook, started a post with a link to the news story and wrote out, "Now that I can marry anyone I want, I should get going on this whole dating thing," and clicked Post.

Let’s be blatantly clear. Queerness isn’t going anywhere.

With Trump taking back office at the end of January, I am just a single drop in the queer sea of confusion, disdain, and fear. Through this trying time, I wanted to gather my thoughts, process them, and share my story of how I got here and where I plan to go.

I started taking testosterone in February of 2024, a decision made after years of teetering back and forth between comfort and safety. I wanted to be seen as myself. I wanted to look in the mirror and recognize the person who was looking back at me. But I also didn’t want the inherent danger that came with being trans in public—not the flaunting of my identity, but just the mere fact of my existence in the eyes of others. I didn’t decide it lightly.

It began slowly—the plague, the greed, the riots. Revolutionaries rose up behind symbols, murals, and songs, while the masses were fed machinery and religion. In the wake of the destruction, politicians deemed art a dangerous thing—a worthless thing—and the masses agreed. They took away the paint, the books, and the instruments. But they could not wholly silence the artists. These are the stories they left behind.

For this week, I wanted look back at a poem and poet that fell into my lap in a time that I needed it the most. Cody R. Simpson, also known as singer/songwriter and actor Cody Simpson, released his poetry collection Prince Neptune in 2020. The collection touches on a conflicting battle between his struggle to uphold his godlike persona and reflecting on his own mortality of fame and fortune. “Simpson’s poetry combines themes of freedom and the ocean with the wisdom of an old soul.”

It began slowly—the plague, the greed, the riots. Revolutionaries rose up behind symbols, murals, and songs, while the masses were fed machinery and religion. In the wake of the destruction, politicians deemed art a dangerous thing—a worthless thing—and the masses agreed. They took away the paint, the books, and the instruments. But they could not wholly silence the artists. These are the stories they left behind.

I attended a Martin Luther King Jr. Day march in Seattle’s Central District on January 20, 2025. That day was also the inauguration of our nation’s 47^th president, Donald Trump. Many Americans are tired of talking about politics and Trump. Well, not everyone. I think there’s something about this coalescence of events that stands to unite us more than divide us. Hope stems from the fact that this march, which at times threatened to be more about Trump than Dr. King, ultimately succeeded to underscore the importance of some of the very radical problems King was putting his lifeforce into trying to solve before he was assassinated.

Playland gives us one last night in Boston’s oldest and most infamous gay bar, featuring the ghosts who, even in life, haunted this place. Whimsical and bittersweet, Georden West’s film pays tribute to one of the oldest gay bars in the country: the Playland Cafe, previously located in the so-called Combat Zone in Boston, the city’s adult entertainment district. The cast of characters includes bar flies, performers, servers, and all manner of debauches and renegades.

It began slowly—the plague, the greed, the riots. Revolutionaries rose up behind symbols, murals, and songs, while the masses were fed machinery and religion. In the wake of the destruction, politicians deemed art a dangerous thing—a worthless thing—and the masses agreed. They took away the paint, the books, and the instruments. But they could not wholly silence the artists. These are the stories they left behind. 

Three art pieces came to the Seattle Center and are here until the cherry blossoms bloom this April. The Seattle Center, in collaboration with The Office of Arts and Culture, commissioned three public pieces for a short-term display on their campus: two sculptures and one hung banner. 

As they wrapped up the speeches and braced for the ribbon cutting, Savanna Boles was invited to sing. During her rendition of “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”, it began to snow. At first it was a magical dusting, but as the music swelled, so did the weather. We followed the singer as everyone was ushered inside and out of the cold. A few joked that the ancestors were saying, "Get on with it, it's cold!" Inside the music switched to a vocal accompaniment to “Glory,” and the ribbon was cut. With that, the Washington State Black Legacy Institute was officially open.

I feel fear. I know what it is like to have every aspect of your identity under threat. To realize every day you live that the world you know was specifically designed against your best interest—against the interest of most with the exception of the few in power. Hate is not sustainable, but it’s easier to turn fear into hate rather than love. It’s challenging to see this all take place and not be overwhelmed with fear. 

To keep a level head, it is important to be prepared. We don’t know what the future has in store, but there are basic things that you can do to increase the safety of your loved ones.

With the historic November election still visible in our rear view mirrors, Seattle voters will be taking to their ballots again in just a few weeks’ time for the February 11, 2025, special election. Among their bubbles will be a voter initiative regarding social housing—this time to fund it. The initiative will appear on the ballot as Prop 1A, but will compete against a City Council alternative called Prop 1B, currently being backed by the Seattle Chamber of Commerce.

Roller derby is a sport built on grit, strength, and feminism. These qualities distinguish it from most mainstream sports, which are dominated by men athletes and administrators. Even where women’s leagues exist, the structures that support them are often still dictated by men-dominated decision-making. Roller derby stands out because its foundation has been shaped by women. It is one of the few sports where women aren’t just participants, but are the driving force behind every aspect of the game.

“There’s Trolls in them thar hills!”

The Trolls of which I speak are, of course, the much talked about sculptures brought to the Pacific Northwest (and beyond) through a unique collaboration between Danish recycle artist and activist Thomas Dambo, Scan Design Foundation, and several Coast Salish tribes—especially members from Muckleshoot and Snoqualmie.