'Stine! like tequila. And bad decisions. And activism (good decision). She kinda revels in awkward turtle conversation and would more than likely love to discuss the state of _____________ with you.
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My son is gay. Or he’s not. I don’t care. He is still my son. And he is 5. And I am his mother. And if you have a problem with anything mentioned above, I don’t want to know you
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I’ve been on a space kick lately. Not in a Hubble telescope, woe is the plight of NASA sort of way, but in the way people (especially the homo sort) occupy and own both physical and digital space. Occupying space can be powerful just as it can be mundane. Occupying space can be protest or accident or elevator. At the bar, on the bus, in the office, in line at the post office: the way we interact with space ripples into the existence of our surrounding others. We do space constantly, unconsciously, and with varying degrees of privilege.
I’m interested in the ways the queer (and our amazing homo-loving friends and community contributing activists in general) occupy space with intent. How we possess space.