Anytime I’m asked to describe myself on social media websites, I list five components of my identity: Artist, Feminist, 19 Years Old, Pansexual and Demigirl. I list those five for the same reasons people list things like their zodiac sign or which Hogwarts house they belong to, because those five things mean a lot to me and in my opinion say a lot about my identity in a quick little shorthand. If someone says they’re a Hufflepuff, one can glean they probably take pride in their loyalty or if they say they’re a scorpio, they might be hoping to communicate their passionate demeanor. As for me, I identify as an artist in an almost spiritual way, a feminist in a very political way, and my age communicates where I am in life in terms of how many years I’ve had thus far to figure out this universe of ours. As for the latter two, their importance to me is a tad more nuanced.
I identify as tremendously queer, which is an odd thing, since there’s no unit of measurement for queerness, yet within the last year, my gender identity and sexuality have proven themselves more important than more obvious things such as my cultural heritage. Which, speak of the devil, is Irish Catholic, and because of that, I found myself in attendance at a catholic school from first to eighth grade. Although those years don’t hold much value for me at this point in my life, they definitely impacted my views on LGBTQIAP+ issues.
Due to the vitriol I heard about the queer community and queer people in general, I was hesitant to believe my own feelings of queerness, brushing them off as the sort of sinful impulses and thoughts one must never own up to unless in confession. As I grew older I began realizing how many of the figures I found intriguing were queer, and although none of those queer artists seemed evil or mislead due to their sexuality or gender identity, according to what I had been taught, they inherently were.
One particular incident that stands out to me was after I attended a play about Oscar Wilde’s life, along with my grandma and her friends, and while they decried the piece as smutty, I found myself unable to escape the empathy I felt for Wilde, who was of course imprisoned and tormented due to his homosexuality.
Though at that point in my life, I still saw the inequality faced by queer people as something that wasn’t my fight, and although public issues such as marriage equality may have been something I felt strongly about and always defended, I maintained the belief that those issues had nothing to do with me.
Then the best thing that has ever happened to me happened. I attended a performing arts high school, which allowed me to be surrounded by people of all genders and sexual orientations, many of whom were my teachers. The four years I spent at Saint Paul Conservatory for Performing Artists were the best of my life thus far, and although I can attribute that mostly due to my education in Musical Theatre, I felt like I belonged in the SPCPA community more than any community I’d ever been a part of prior.
I felt comfortable “coming out” although I didn’t know how to classify myself. I began to refer to myself as Bisexual. Yet as soon as I allowed that detail to be known about me, one of my queer friends sat me down and declared, “You aren’t really bi, you just want to be queer like everyone else so you aren’t just an ally”. For some strange reason I believed her.
Nevertheless, I kept feeling as though straight and CISgender was something I surely wasn’t. I also figured there must be a better term than Bisexual to define what I was, especially since defining attraction, or anything else, for that matter, with a strict dichotomy of male and female seemed limiting and unhelpful. This proved even truer as I began to meet people who identified outside of those categories.
Soon I discovered the word Pansexual, which fit me well, and genderqueer which sounded like me as well. I embraced those identities, especially while in a show called ‘Queertopia’ for the 2013 Twin Cities PRIDE festival. I felt so comfortable with that cast and experience that since it closed, I’ve felt what I can only accurately describe as homesick for that show.
Performing has definitely impacted how I see myself; it took playing Ruth from Pirates of Penzance to see myself as beautiful (oddly enough), and it took playing queer characters, such as Matron Mama Morton from Chicago and a more outwardly queer version of myself in Queertopia to realize that my queer identity was something I value in myself and something that should be celebrated.
When I went to Columbia, I felt my identity challenged once again. Just as once before, I was seen as a mere ally, since I didn’t have proof of my queerness in the form of a girlfriend. Because of that, I didn’t feel comfortable in the Columbia Queer club I attempted to join. That coupled with some disturbing moments of homophobia in the acting class I took, made me feel as though Columbia was the exact opposite of Saint Paul Conservatory for Performing Arts and Queertopia, the two experiences I felt the most at home.
I wound up finding my own queer refuge by becoming more of an outward part of the Queer community online. I also discovered ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’ which felt like salvation during my most difficult moments at Columbia. Through Hedwig I began to explore my own gender identity more, which caused me to find a word that I felt suited me better than Genderqueer: Demigirl, meaning one who identifies partially as female and partially as gender-neutral.
When I returned to Minnesota to finish my Associates at Minneapolis Community and Technical College, I was greeted with the same comforting community I missed in Chicago, and attending Twin Cities PRIDE this year felt like more of a celebration than usual. I worked as a stagehand for the MCTC PRIDE show, which helped homeless LGBTQIAP+ youth, and the connected, homey feeling I felt when I performed in Queertopia returned to me.
My queerness and connection to the LGBTQIAP+ community means more to me than I ever thought it could. I’ve experienced the deep spiritual connection to the positive aspects of this community, as well as the elitist, exclusive elements, yet at the end of the day, it was the exposure to a queer community through performing arts that has made me the person I am today: Artist, Feminist, 19 Years Old, Pansexual and Demigirl.
I identify as tremendously queer, which is an odd thing, since there’s no unit of measurement for queerness, yet within the last year, my gender identity and sexuality have proven themselves more important than more obvious things such as my cultural heritage. Which, speak of the devil, is Irish Catholic, and because of that, I found myself in attendance at a catholic school from first to eighth grade. Although those years don’t hold much value for me at this point in my life, they definitely impacted my views on LGBTQIAP+ issues.
Due to the vitriol I heard about the queer community and queer people in general, I was hesitant to believe my own feelings of queerness, brushing them off as the sort of sinful impulses and thoughts one must never own up to unless in confession. As I grew older I began realizing how many of the figures I found intriguing were queer, and although none of those queer artists seemed evil or mislead due to their sexuality or gender identity, according to what I had been taught, they inherently were.
One particular incident that stands out to me was after I attended a play about Oscar Wilde’s life, along with my grandma and her friends, and while they decried the piece as smutty, I found myself unable to escape the empathy I felt for Wilde, who was of course imprisoned and tormented due to his homosexuality.
Though at that point in my life, I still saw the inequality faced by queer people as something that wasn’t my fight, and although public issues such as marriage equality may have been something I felt strongly about and always defended, I maintained the belief that those issues had nothing to do with me.
Then the best thing that has ever happened to me happened. I attended a performing arts high school, which allowed me to be surrounded by people of all genders and sexual orientations, many of whom were my teachers. The four years I spent at Saint Paul Conservatory for Performing Artists were the best of my life thus far, and although I can attribute that mostly due to my education in Musical Theatre, I felt like I belonged in the SPCPA community more than any community I’d ever been a part of prior.
I felt comfortable “coming out” although I didn’t know how to classify myself. I began to refer to myself as Bisexual. Yet as soon as I allowed that detail to be known about me, one of my queer friends sat me down and declared, “You aren’t really bi, you just want to be queer like everyone else so you aren’t just an ally”. For some strange reason I believed her.
Nevertheless, I kept feeling as though straight and CISgender was something I surely wasn’t. I also figured there must be a better term than Bisexual to define what I was, especially since defining attraction, or anything else, for that matter, with a strict dichotomy of male and female seemed limiting and unhelpful. This proved even truer as I began to meet people who identified outside of those categories.
Soon I discovered the word Pansexual, which fit me well, and genderqueer which sounded like me as well. I embraced those identities, especially while in a show called ‘Queertopia’ for the 2013 Twin Cities PRIDE festival. I felt so comfortable with that cast and experience that since it closed, I’ve felt what I can only accurately describe as homesick for that show.
Performing has definitely impacted how I see myself; it took playing Ruth from Pirates of Penzance to see myself as beautiful (oddly enough), and it took playing queer characters, such as Matron Mama Morton from Chicago and a more outwardly queer version of myself in Queertopia to realize that my queer identity was something I value in myself and something that should be celebrated.
When I went to Columbia, I felt my identity challenged once again. Just as once before, I was seen as a mere ally, since I didn’t have proof of my queerness in the form of a girlfriend. Because of that, I didn’t feel comfortable in the Columbia Queer club I attempted to join. That coupled with some disturbing moments of homophobia in the acting class I took, made me feel as though Columbia was the exact opposite of Saint Paul Conservatory for Performing Arts and Queertopia, the two experiences I felt the most at home.
I wound up finding my own queer refuge by becoming more of an outward part of the Queer community online. I also discovered ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’ which felt like salvation during my most difficult moments at Columbia. Through Hedwig I began to explore my own gender identity more, which caused me to find a word that I felt suited me better than Genderqueer: Demigirl, meaning one who identifies partially as female and partially as gender-neutral.
When I returned to Minnesota to finish my Associates at Minneapolis Community and Technical College, I was greeted with the same comforting community I missed in Chicago, and attending Twin Cities PRIDE this year felt like more of a celebration than usual. I worked as a stagehand for the MCTC PRIDE show, which helped homeless LGBTQIAP+ youth, and the connected, homey feeling I felt when I performed in Queertopia returned to me.
My queerness and connection to the LGBTQIAP+ community means more to me than I ever thought it could. I’ve experienced the deep spiritual connection to the positive aspects of this community, as well as the elitist, exclusive elements, yet at the end of the day, it was the exposure to a queer community through performing arts that has made me the person I am today: Artist, Feminist, 19 Years Old, Pansexual and Demigirl.
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