She sniffles, and wipes her nose with the back of her hand before folding up the rest of a gossamer sheet.
“MoOoOom,” I whine. “I’ll be fine. There will be BIRDS! And DOGS! It’s going to be so much fun.”
“I know,” she says with a soft smile. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, because all she can think about is how much I will miss Her.
“I know your family and friends will care for you well.” Already, she can see the faces of the many mentors and givers and receivers who will cross my path as I forge…
we are farandolae
in the form and figure
the human family is a human body
is a body of Christ is a body of
bread and spirit of water, borne out
on the tides and shores and ebbs and flows of the body of our
MotherFatherGod. and el’s spirit breathes in us
life, and life
crawls out the sea and
lurches wet from saltwater wombs
it’s eggs and chickens and
eggs and mammals in all the ways
(downwards, upwards, onwards);
still fish / fishers / fished,
and still sea of Galilee,
Lights shone down onto the concrete stage, music chirped to life, and all — except one — of the tutu-adorned toddlers began their ungraceful dance.
In full view of a captive audience of beaming adults, I plopped myself belly-down onto the floor. My little round face rested in my cupped hands as I kicked one leg and then the other, back and forth, and watched the rest of my class perform.
This non-conformity was no isolated incident. In kindergarten, I went through a phase of signing all my papers as “Robert.” (I don’t remember why; I don’t feel like a…
First published in the Salt Lake Tribune, 25 June 2020
From the outside, my family seems perfectly “Mormon.” With two darling kids, and a husband sporting BYU blue, you wouldn’t look twice if you passed us at Costco.
But here’s my secret: I’m transgender.
For years, I gave my best performance of “being a girl.” I wasn’t completely convincing. My tomboyish ways and bedraggled style often garnered teasing and disapproval. But I still must have been close enough that no one questioned me marrying a man for time and all eternity.
In the sealing room of the Salt Lake…
Here’s the address I wrote to commemorate this weekend’s Latter-day Saint general conference 🌝
gospel topic / sabbath school for today:
the New Testament is what happened after a lot of people met this very intriguing “miniature professor,” who gave lectures and recitations about his favorite bedtime stories / superhero escapades / sci-fi movies in the marketplace; a sweet little Jewish boy with curly hair and big brown eyes and dusty skin, who defied their gender norms (he insisted he was a GIRL chicken, a MOMMA hen), led a bunch of scrappy rascally anti-establishment type teenagers around and called…
musings from a wannabe Irishman