Category: butch whispers

Heyo! My name is Caley Murray and I live in Portland, OR. I’m the program director at Rock ‘n Roll Camp For Girls and I’m a big ol’ butch dyke 🙂

1. You’re given $20,000, how would you spend it?

If I was given $20,000, I would put up a privacy fence around my yard and buy a jacuzzi.

2. What’s something you know now that you wish you’d known when you were 12?

I wish when I was twelve that I knew that I was gay and that I didn’t have to fit into the mold of womanhood presented to me by society and my family.  I remember sitting at the kitchen table with my mom and our neighbor while they did their nails together. They would try to get me to let them do my nails and I always refused. Except for one time, they convinced me to let them put clear polish on me. I regretted it immediately. I hated the chemical smell it gave off and the way its shine distracted me when I was doing something with my hands. I rubbed my fingers in the mud until the shine was gone. They would tell me.  “It’s a shame because you have such nice nails. One day, you are going to love doing your nails, and you’ll be begging us to do them!” I believed them. But that day never came. I never woke up one day and suddenly decided it was time to shed my tomboy skin and femme it up for the boys. It makes me laugh just thinking about the fact that I ever believed that would be my fate. But when you are young and don’t know who you are yet, it’s easy to believe the people around you who seem so sure of how everything is supposed to be. I wish I had known how to listen to myself and trust my own desires and preferences despite the opinions of others.

3. Scroll back through your phone and describe the 5th last image to us.

It is a picture of my pet rats, Tuna and Rosie, snuggling with their noses together in their cardboard box sky condo.

4. Where do you hope to be ten years from now?

Ten years from now I hope to be still madly in love with my wife, living on the Oregon Coast, self-employed as a sound engineer specializing in live sound, and producing my own music as well.

5. What is one thing that you’re really proud of?

I am really proud of the life my wife and I have built together. Things were not easy for my family during my childhood. I was raised by a single mother of three. My mom made eleven dollars an hour and my absent father didn’t pay child support. I was a parentified child who took on the role of father to my little brother. I started working at a fast food place when I was fourteen years old. I remember being stressed out about money and whether or not we were going to lose our house all the time. It was exhausting. I decided that my goal when I grew up was to have a simple, childless life with the security of a peaceful home, and an equal partnership with someone I could trust completely. Having come from a family of divorce, I was skeptical about whether or not this possibility even existed. I would picture myself in my future relationships being an all-sacrificing, super solid butch who took care of her partner’s every desire and never needed anything in return. But over the years, I discovered that my idea of my role in a relationship wasn’t sustainable. The hardest thing I had to learn to do was let my partner take care of me in return. It’s hard to let your guard down and be vulnerable in that way, but I don’t think that you can have a true partnership without being able to lean on each other. I am proud of the ways I have grown and evolved as a person and a partner over the last eleven years with my wife.

6. What’s the queer / dyke scene like where you live and what’s one thing you’d change about it if you could?

I feel like I have been pretty detached from the dyke scene for the last couple of years because of Covid. I do miss the days when we used to have our own dyke bar. As I get older, I find myself wanting more opportunities to interact with dykes outside of the partying and dancing scene. I find it easier to meet new people when there is an activity involved and you can actually talk and get to know people and flirt. Like, instead of just dancing in bars all the time, let’s watch each other throw knives and then sit around a campfire. And I have always been envious of the gay cruising scene and wish that there was more of a slutty butch for butch cruising culture in our area.

7. How does being butch positively impact your life?

Being butch positively impacts my life by allowing me to easily be seen by my fellow dykes and queer community. If you’re as butch as I am, you are very rarely mistaken as straight. I am grateful that I don’t have to endure the burden of coming out to the majority of the people I meet.  Also, being butch and a top, I have never had a problem finding a date. :Insert top shortage joke here: There is a lot of desire out there for butches, which I really appreciate.

8. How does being butch negatively impact your life?

Being easily clocked as a butch dyke is a double-edged sword. I receive a lot of hostility out in the world, especially from men. It usually comes in the form of disapproving sneers and looks of disgust. Every now and then they will do something bolder, like yell a slur or shoulder check me as they walk by. Old people glare at me a lot. I get told that I am in the wrong bathroom. I cannot hide what I am. I have gotten really good over the years at returning the disapproving looks or sometimes even asking gawkers if I can help them with something, which usually freaks them out. Sometimes I wish I could just blend in and go about my day in the world and not have to deal with normies who don’t know what to think of me.

@your_butch_dad

Heyo I’m Mara!  Aliases include Buck, Colton Buck, and Lou. I was raised in Newberg, Oregon.  I’ve spent most of my adult years in Portland, this city has always felt like the best place for me as a queer person.  I’ve built long lasting friendships and community here.  I’ll never acclimate fully to the persistent rain and gray skies, but it’s home. Spring is a different story, once spring comes, my camping gear is at the ready, and I’m checking road conditions at my secret spots. I love to hike, backpack, shoot guns, forage, stare into the campfire, swim in alpine lakes….always dreaming about the woods. Traveling and experiencing new places keeps me hopeful and engaged. Writing keeps me grounded.  Spending time with loved ones gives me a sense of harmony.  And then there’s dancing with the queer crew, for bliss.

1. What’s something you know now that you wish you’d known when you were 12?

Small town life in the 90s awarded me the liberty to be adventurous, unsupervised, ceaselessly outside playing and/or getting into mischief.  Everything felt so familiar and simple.  By age 12 though, my boyish, rowdy, wide-eyed disposition was being chipped away at by a withdrawn and excruciatingly self conscious pre-pubescent girl.  Quickly learning the bleak realities of being a tween tomboy, I became broody.

It started with my friends, who were boys, swapping inside jokes about me.  The rules seemed to change overnight. I was no longer one of them.  A lot happened in the subsequent years that I don’t like to think about, or even discuss with my therapist.  What sticks with me about that time is that I believed there were only two paths to take: one for boys and one for girls.  Neither path felt authentic for me. I became the disinterested friend in the group who would sneak away from slumber parties to go hang out with the brother or parents or sit alone.

I wish that I had known then that I didn’t need to camouflage myself to gain the validation of my peers, my family, the community.  I wish I had known that engaging more with the idea of who I was, and what kind of person I wanted to be, would benefit me more than theorizing/worrying about future heteronormative milestones.  Mostly I wish I’d known that the future me, in my thirties, was extremely proud of how I held on to my curiosity, and how downright scrappy and defiant I was throughout some awkward and formative years.

2. Where do you hope to be ten years from now?

I hope to be living on a bit of land in the country, with dogs, chickens, a sweetheart.  Space for projects.  A nice garden.  I’m open to many possible futures, but I might as well go with the romantic prospect.  It’s difficult to have a specific vision for the future when the last two years have shown me how fragile and unpredictable our lives are. I believe it’s more important than ever to be flexible and adaptive, which are qualities that I’m being forced to learn now.  I hope that in ten years, I’m still working on loving myself and seeing the beauty and joy in the simple things.

3. Who are the two people most important to you?
I’m not one to pick favorites in any category, but a couple of important people in my life are my mom, and my sister Tatia.

Despite some traumas in her life before I was born, my mom put herself through grad school in her early 40s, while I was a toddler.  She raised me on her own until I was six.  Growing up, we had trouble connecting emotionally, and she was not initially supportive when I came out. Ultimately though, that challenging period of our relationship brought us closer.  I see her strength in new ways as I get older.  She’s tough, silly, inquisitive, sensitive.  Well into her 70s now, she’s become more focused on how she responds during difficult/emotional conversations.  She loves talking with me about politics and culture.  She seeks knowledge of all kinds.  Not a conventional woman of her generation, and I love her for that.

My sister, Tatia is 17 years older than me.  Our relationship stretches beyond siblings; when I was young she was more like a..sister-mom-teacher-best friend.  She offered me unbounded joy and love from the start.  Living a few hours away, our time together was limited.  So when we were together I was basically a puppy, obsessing over her.  We’d drive through the Columbia gorge to her house in her little Nissan Pulsar without A/C, talking about all the fun activities we’d get into.  They were summers full of belly laughs.  There were consistent heart to heart conversations that I wouldn’t have had otherwise, with anyone else.  She treated me like her pride and joy.  When I started going through puberty, I suddenly became quiet and melancholy and irritable.  I’ll never forget her telling me that I seemed different and not the same goofy kid I was the last time she saw me.  I’ve spent a couple decades reflecting on that single comment.  I clearly recall seeing how saddened she was that I seemed to have lost my spark.  I didn’t even take it personally at the time, as pubescent kids often can’t be bothered with such vulnerability.  Our lives became more complicated when she had kids, and I was playing sports year round, but we always maintained our powerful connection. And I finally managed to find my inner trickster again.  I owe so much of who I am to her.

4. What’s the queer / dyke scene like where you live and what’s one thing you’d change about it if you could?

Portland’s queer scene is pretty robust.  Officially on the big gay map.  I’d love to see more, well any, spaces that are run by and support specifically butch, femme and gender non-conforming queers.  Permanent spaces.  No need for exclusivity, just a space that is foundationally ours.

5. What are your 2 favorite and 2 least favorite memories from childhood?

Favorite memories of childhood….

I was around 10 years old, spending the summer with my big sister Tatia in the Tri Cities, Washington.  We jumped in the back of a pickup at dusk with her boyfriend and their friends who were all in their twenties.  Obviously, they were the coolest people I’d ever met.  Friends in Low Places was blasting on the radio and we were going fishing in the dark on the Yakima. They were drinking beers, and singing along to all of the hot 90s pop country bangers. We skipped rocks and my sister stayed near me, like she always did to make sure I felt included. The moon was bright and flickered over the surface of the river.  Nobody cared about the fishing; we surely got skunked given the rocks, loud music, and hollering.  It was one of those simple moments that imprints onto your memory.  I felt a little older, and a little wild.

Broadly, most of the fond memories from my childhood were made with my brother, Brandt.  We were step siblings from age 6, we were the same age, looked like twins, and we were inseparable.  We loved to dress up in costumes and perform ninja tricks in the house.  In summer we’d bomb down the double length slip n slide wearing trash bags.  We “ran away” to California to live with Wayne Gretskey, outfitted with only a bag full of toys and some tea cups.  We crushed on the same girl, at least once.  Ate entire rolls of pillsbury cookie dough without getting sick.  Shot pop cans with the bb gun.  Played hockey, baseball, built ramps, rollerbladed, skated, and bmx’d, shot hoops in the driveway, played Nintendo until our hands cramped up, wrote songs about candy and bullies.  It was the life.

Least favorite memories from childhood:

Losing one of my friends in a car accident. My favorite cat died when my sister’s house burned down (my sister was able to escape).   Middle school peer pressure and cruelty.  A couple other incidents too vulnerable to share.  I have found it interesting that in responding to these questions for BINADW, it’s highlighted for me how difficult it was leaving adolescence.  I think that’s true for most of us; puberty is hard.  During that period I unknowingly forfeited my youth and uncontrived nature, only to be expected to assimilate into some form of femininity that I didn’t relate with, and which was consequently the basis for many of my least favorite memories well into my twenties.

@n3onv3inz

Hello, my name is Rose Blakelock I was born and raised in South West Ohio, and spent 12 years in New York City. Over the pandemic living in New York became pretty unsustainable, it really laid bare the wealth gap and sort of stripped away all the sheen. I was out of work and collecting unemployment and realized this might be my only shot. So I moved to Northern New Mexico with my girlfriend. Living in the Southwest was always in the long term plan but the pandemic definitely accelerated it. Basically, we just weren’t rich enough to be comfortable, and our nervous systems were trashed.

For work I’m a consulting astrologer, audio editor, musician, and carpenter. I’m also the co-host of a podcast called Big Dyke Energy, along with my friend Gala Mukomolova, an astrologer and poet based in New York City. We hang out and talk shit about the stars and gay celebrities & pop culture.

1. You’re given $20,000, how would you spend it? 

It’s probably douchey to say I would invest in cryptocurrency, right? For really real, though, I would probably buy some books, buy some gifts, donate a chunk, and then fix up my truck and buy some new tools and guitar amps? Oh and fancy vintage synthesizers. Can’t forget about those.

2. Where do you hope to be ten years from now?

I would like to be more confident that there will be clean water to drink and air to breathe for the rest of my life. I know, big ask there. But beyond hoping to see some big shifts on the large scale, in my own life I would like to live in a sweet house, with a recording studio (maybe an underground lair?) and preferably at the end of a long dirt road butted up to a stream and some woods (not unlike the house my partner and I are renting currently).

3. What is one thing that you’re really proud of?

I’m proud of betting on myself these last couple years, and stepping up to the challenge. My friend group suffered some pretty heavy losses from 2018 to the beginning of the pandemic. 2 divorces, a death, the breakup of a music project I had been a part of for 12 years. I had to overhaul nearly every aspect of my life; I started my own business, began writing a solo album and recruited a new band, got into therapy and started doing yoga regularly. Things were building and I was starting to feel so much more centered and comfortable with myself. I was playing shows, doing readings, and built a beautiful new kitchen as part of a rent trade.

And then, of course, the pandemic hit. It shook me loose, but also I was so grateful to realize that I could take nearly everything I rebuilt with me, because it wasn’t centered outside of myself. I’m so grateful and proud that my partner and I took the leap and moved to this beautiful, tiny town and are connecting to a community that feels so steady and nourishing. I’m finally starting to feel at home in the world.

4. What’s the queer / dyke scene like where you live and what’s one thing you’d change about it if you could?

Oh man I’d get rid of COVID. It’s a small but really sweet scene. Most of our friends have families, and everyone’s got a fair amount of space to host. To be honest, I was so tired of bathroom lines and too loud bad music. I feel like I sound like the grandpa from the Simpsons or something. But really it’s the revival of the house party, which is my preferred method of hanging out. I do miss karaoke, though I’ve been told I can start a party at the theatre up the road once the virus calms down…

5. What are your 2 favorite and 2 least favorite memories from childhood?

My first favorite memory is of a make believe musical festival my sister and I would produce. I think it was right after Woodstock ‘94 and we were OBSESSED. We called it “Pootstock” and would go through all the Columbia Records CD catalogues and highlight every band we hated. Then we would announce the line up and proceed to go through the acts, doing very terrible and pretty rude impressions of them, one by one. I remember I had this little electric guitar with, like, a plastic Madonna mic/headphone and a little speaker that you could clip onto your waistband and play out of, but this was before I actually knew any chords so it was really just sheer chaos.

My second favorite memory is from the fourth grade. My sister and I were in class together, and the main receptionist from the office came to the door and said, “Uh, Daisy and Rose? Your dad just called and said he’s picking you up to go see something called ‘Poe’.”

Apparently she had had to cancel a tour date in a neighboring town because she was sick, and decided to do a tiny daytime show on her way back through. We got to see her in a coffee shop in a crowd of about 30 people, and afterwards we even got to go up and meet her. I never really was an autograph person but I do still have that one.

My least favorite memories…Eesh. One is definitely from when I was about 8 years old. My neighbor and I had been super close. We love to play war games, and video games, and strap bottle rockets onto hot wheels cars and watch them go. Sometimes we’d sit on skateboards and let his big golden retriever, Henry,  pull us down the street. I don’t really remember much about this day except that it was summer and it was hot so I wasn’t wearing a shirt, which was not that wild, particularly at 8 years old. Then this little jerk told me that I wasn’t allowed to do that any more because I was a girl. He was my first friend! I think he got over it eventually, but that was one of the first times I was confronted with the idea that my options would somehow be limited because of my perceived gender. I was sooo so mad at him. I think I maybe tried to punch him, even?

Another pretty embarrassing one–I was in 5th grade, maybe? Our school would do a musical every year, which we would collectively adapt and direct. This year we chose Mary Poppins. I was dead set on playing Burt the Chimney Sweep, for some reason. We had our audition or whatever it was, and another classmate got the role instead. I was beside myself, crying in my little cubby/cubicle, and being overall a pretty sore loser/drama queen. I guess the girl who got the part felt so bad about it/for me that she talked to our teacher and convinced them to give it to me, after all. I took it, and still feel pretty guilty about it.

6. What does the butch identity mean to you? And how did you come to align with it?

I think any gender identity is about living authentically, without affectation. To be butch is not inherently to reject softness or femininity, but to resist the pressure to conform to a prescribed role. To wear your hair how you like it, to prioritize utility, perhaps. To be more interested in what you can do in your clothes than what they communicate.

I remember when I was in my late teens, I was having a conversation with my late Grandmother (we were very close), and she told me;

“I never thought of you as a little boy or a little girl or anything. I thought of you as a person who needed and should have practical skills.”

I think about that, and her, a lot. In some ways, my gender identity has less to do with me naming or aligning myself as “butch” (though I do so proudly and with great reverence), and more to do with me doing what feels comfortable and practical and true to myself. The title came after the fact, and largely from elder queers, mentors, and dates. I was just being myself, and honestly, my style hasn’t changed much since I was 8 years old. I don’t like fuss, I need pockets, I like a crisp shirt and cufflinks. No one ever taught me how to do makeup and that is fine with me–the quicker I could get outside, the better. You ever try to climb a tree in a skirt? It’s annoying!

I realize that my answers may seem like I’m disparaging a more feminine style, or see it as impractical, and I want to be clear that I do not feel that way! I just know what works for me, and believe that everyone should have the space to figure that out for themselves, too.

My name is Aneesah Rasheed and while I’m originally from San Diego (619 baby!), I’ve been reppin’ the city of Roses (Portland, OR) for a good decade or so. When I’m not working in Tech and Diversity, Equity & Inclusion, I’m generally trying to make the world a better, more equitable place. I will do just about anything for the love of my life, Megan, and our rescue pups, Wulstan and Delilah. On any given day, I can be found catchin’ em all, playing Legends of Zelda, organizing my Rubik’s cube collection, and sending my partner adoption bio’s of dogs she says we can’t get (You’ve twisted my arm, I can solve a Rubik’s cube in 40 seconds!).

1. You’re given $20,000, how would you spend it?

This is going to be boring, but I would pay down my debt with most of it and maybe spend a bit on a van that I could eventually travel the US in. It would have to be big enough for me, bae, pup 1 and pup 2.

2. What’s something you know now that you wish you’d known when you were 12?

I wanna say I’d tell myself to learn how to save and invest because 36-year-old me would find that convenient but 12-year-old me wouldn’t listen to anything so…..maybe that boobs aren’t too scary; That I’d squeeze a bunch and eventually not have to have my own anymore?

3. Where do you hope to be ten years from now?

Picture this: My hot girlfriend is wife’d up (to me of course duh). We have two to three mini-us’s running around a big ranch-style house with good light, not-shitty neighbors, and 13 more dogs. My consulting firm is making big changes for the communities served in tech and healthcare, I’ve figured out real estate investment, and I’m generating wealth so I can spoil the heck out of everyone I love. (dogs)

4. Who are the two people most important to you?

My partner is my rock. She pushes me, encourages me and doesn’t let me settle. They’re not people but I have to give a shout out to the best sentient beings I know, my pups. Everyday they teach me what unconditional love is and without them, I’m not sure I would ever have experienced that. Sappy af, I know.

5. What is one thing that you’re really proud of?
I used to manage an apprenticeship program that helped jump-start people’s careers as junior software developers. I made it a point to reach out to communities of color and was told many times that, “those women,” or folks I’d selected weren’t, “right,” for the program; that they wouldn’t understand the culture. Before leaving, I helped multiple folks of color get internships as junior software developers and saw many of them offered jobs as well. They hustled harder than anyone else in the program and a lot of them still reach out to me about their wins and successes.

6. What’s the queer / dyke scene like where you live and what’s one thing you’d change about it if you could?

I’m really lucky- the queer scene is dope in PDX! I think more often than not, people are able to be authentically themselves and find community across many spectrums. Something I think we could all do better is not make such quick assumptions about one another. To keep it light, let’s talk (and hopefully not offend) Portland queers… I find the Portland dyke mullet to be wildly offensive. I don’t get it. But you know what, 67% of my queer fam has the dyke mullet so I can’t assume any one thing or the other about it (much love to my mullet babes!)

7. What are your 2 favorite and 2 least favorite memories from childhood?

I’m half black and half Mexican and we have big families, so; I don’t have one solid favorite memory but the general chaos of a small stuffy house filled with music, dogs, thousands of cousins, the smell of carne asada and my Abuela making more rice… it was a good time.

Least favorite childhood memories? Well, I was really hoping God was gonna turn me into a boy so there was some disappointment on several fronts there BUT Pharrell and swaggy masc folks of Pinterest turned me into the butch daddy dyke I am today so… It worked out.

8. What does the butch identity mean to you? And how did you come to align with it?

There’s a privilege that comes with my butch identity, and to some extent it’s at odds with my earlier thought that queers in pdx need to stop making quick assumptions about one another. There is inherently a quick assumption made by most people who see me, a butch person. I’m queer, mass-presenting, and there’s little questioning that. In other spaces, other cities, other times, my butch identity (a very visible, space-taking identity) is a huge burden. Here and now, butch identity is visibility and pride.

I am E.N. West, but my friends call me E and y’all can too. My pronouns are they/them and/or my name, E. I really believe that “we are uninhibited when we know our power” and I’m committed to working in community to ensure as many people as possible recognize the power they have and then direct that power toward collective liberation. I’m often accused of doing the most, which is true, I definitely do (working on doing less!), but at the heart of all the things I do, is community organizing.

I am originally from the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area, specifically Alexandria, Virginia (and have deep love for my hometown!) but I started calling the other Washington home four years ago when I moved to Seattle. I moved to Seattle because I really deeply believe that everyone should move away from their hometown (if they’re able), and I originally thought it would be a cute pit stop before I went to graduate school elsewhere, but…despite getting into graduate school in 2018, I ultimately decided to stay in Seattle and give up going to grad school, because the work I was looking to learn how to do in grad school was manifesting before my eyes right where I was.

Outside of my community work (I am a co-director at a reproductive justice organization, and an organizer working with faith communities on equitable land stewardship), I enjoy getting in my body through boxing, biking, running (currently training for a 10k race), and practicing calisthenics. Much like everyone else in the Pacific Northwest, I also really love the outdoors (despite being allergic to everything outside, in my case), and enjoy hiking, shooting, lounging at the (preferably, nude) beach, and more recently, backpacking as well.

1. What do you think the world will be like in twenty years?

– I think the world will certainly still be a floating rock hurtling through space. That thought is grounding to me.

– I think human beings within the world will have become increasingly more tribal, with varied results. For some, this will be a return to truly communal living, while for others, it will be a retreat into fear and scarcity (or perceived scarcity) induced hyper-individualism.

– Read the Parable series by Octavia Butler. I think the world, and I can only speak for the Western world I know, will resemble the events foretold in those texts. I’d highly encourage everyone who’d like some direction for life moving forward to study those texts religiously.

2. You’re given $20,000, how would you spend it?

So, because I am a practical visionary for my own life (read: planner) I would put $5k into savings, and $5k into investments. A good amount would also go into the fund I am slowly growing toward buying land in the woods and building a tiny house on it, which is one of my dreams. The rest would go back into the community. I currently try to give 10% of my income each month between charities and GoFundMe’s or random asks for help that come from community, so in keeping with that percentage, I would donate $2k back to community.

Now for the less virtuous spending: Because I am a Taurus and can be extremely indulgent when I have the resources, a good chunk of it would go into buying “toys” (like an electric bike or a foldable kayak) and another chunk would go into sustaining bougie habits, like getting hair cuts more often than once a month, and expensive facials.

3. What’s something you know now that you wish you’d known when you were 12?

As my college freshman year roommate put it, “gay is OK.” (Yes, that is literally how she said it to me. That statement changed my life).

4. Scroll back through your phone and describe the 5th last image to us.

E.N. West is a Black person with brown skin that is glowing in the sun and curly, coily hair. They are standing in front of an outdoor chalkboard and speaking to an audience. They are wearing a black and light blue shirt that reads, “Think Outside My Box” and holding a white and blue megaphone that they are speaking into. They wear a gold cross necklace around their neck.

5. Where do you hope to be ten years from now?

In 10 years I will be 36. I anxiously await my 30’s because I think they will be excellent. With this optimistic perspective in mind, I hope to be on the aforementioned land in the woods in my completed tiny house by then. I love a big wraparound porch, so I hope to be seated on my porch, ideally in a rocking chair, because I also love rocking chairs (I have spent a lot of time in the American south, it has a big influence on my taste!) I hope to either be surrounded by lots of people I love, having a grand ol’ time, drinking our favorite bevvies with fireflies or some other cute bug flitting about, or if it is a more lowkey evening, kicking it with someone I love, who I envision right now as my current romantic partner. I imagine the night being alive with the hum of nature around us, but super quiet compared to the city. I imagine feeling very content in the moment and being very happy overall.

6. Who are the two people most important to you?

This is a really hard question. Because I am at my childhood home right now visiting my parents for the week, I will choose the safe, cop-out answer and say, my parents.

We have gone through many hard times in our relationship with each other, as a family unit, and between myself and each respective parent (and there are certainly more hard times and conversations to come), but I literally would not be here without them (though, if given the chance to go back to the moment of my conception, I would urge the egg to choose a different sperm and save my spirit the toil of earthly living).

Anyway, I digress. I do believe my parents have done their best by me and I am a good fruit of their tireless labor. They also gave me more solid genes than not solid genes (great eyebrows? Thanks parents! History of heart disease? Boooo) so overall I think I’ve got a good shot to hit 69 years old, which is my ideal age to live to at this point. I could go on, but for tonight, they will get the “Most Important People” award.

7. What is one thing that you’re really proud of?

I am proud to have successfully completed the campaign for gender-inclusive housing at my undergrad. I did not do that alone, so I want to shout out the decade of queer and trans-led student organizing that preceded the efforts of me and my comrades, but to this day, I still glow with pride at being a part of that effort. Even though I have been involved with other campaigns and efforts since, I would characterize that one as my first win, and maybe that is why it is the sweetest.

8. What’s the queer / dyke scene like where you live and what’s one thing you’d change about it if you could?

I will be honest, with the pandemic raging on, it is hard for me to say I have a finger completely on the pulse of the queer/dyke scene in Seattle. It feels weird to speak to it without things at a place I would consider normal (though, I probably should release the idea of any kind of normal at this point).

That said, a general thing I would change about the scene which applies to the larger culture of Seattle, is this: I would completely erase white entitlement to Black, Indigenous, and people of color spaces. That is an issue I have witnessed and grapple with in Seattle, that I have never seen or experienced in any other place I’ve lived in or frequented. Folks of color in Seattle really have to spend a lot of energy ensuring that white people do not attempt to be in our spaces, when we should just be able to create our spaces and rest well, knowing that white folks will mind their business and not try to be in our space. I think it’s the very white demographics of Seattle that make this a thing, but it needs to end because it really is big colonizer energy. Not everything is for everybody – and that is okay!

9. What does the butch identity mean to you? And how did you come to align with it?

I wrote about what butch identity means to me in my feature for the print edition of Butch Is Not A Dirty Word (also available digitally! Buy it now!) But recently I have been thinking about the aesthetics of butchness and how I have always gravitated toward them. When I think about the aesthetics of butchness, here are a few examples: White tank tops and t-shirts with black pants. Black leather jackets. A solidly constructed boot. A well-worn and loved denim jacket, often with patches. Chinos. Letterman jackets. Fisherman beanies. A dusty shadow across the upper lip. Visible tattoos. Motorbikes or trucks. Ring of keys, obviously.

This is a non-exhaustive list, but it describes many baseline aesthetics of butch identity that I love. I came to align with them over time – the black leather jacket I got for Christmas at age 13 remains one of my prized possessions 13 years later, while I have only begun to 100% lean into my natural hairiness and cultivate a butch-stache of my own in the last year (with a little help – shout out Minoxidil).

All this to say, the more I take up space to fully be me – and give absolutely zero fucks in the process – the more I align with being butch. I would have it no other way.

@enxwest