Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

This blog isn’t exactly a diary or journal. I do share a lot of my life, at least the interesting parts. At the very least, the interesting to me parts.

It is 10:32 on a Saturday night in September. Earlier today, I wrestled some cat food bags and did the dishes. Then I had a three+ hour phone call with a friend of mine who identifies as trans and intersex. During that call, I did some more chores, small things that weren’t causing a ruckus.

They don’t live in Pittsburgh so there was quite a bit to catch up on for both of us. As with most conversations these days, we gave a lot of our attention to fear and anger and outrage in the guise of analysis and predictions. I deliberately interrupted the conversation to point out that fact and suggest we more to more personal topics to rest our hearts and minds. So we did. It wasn’t necessarily happy topics, but it was a conversation that belong to US, not those who would silence us.

Then I ate Indian food for dinner and return to my primary task of the day – writing a memorial. I had planned to take today “off” because I can feel the grief welling up inside my soul. But something about Aubrey Dameron, a 25 year old Cherokee trans woman spoke to me. Maybe it is because I’ve been watching a lot of Indigenous created content. It just felt important to memorialize her soon.

It took hours, far longer than usual. Her case is complicated – she went missing in 2019 when she walked out of the family home and never returned. To say law enforcement bungled the investigation is a grave injustice to that young woman. Her remains were eventually found in January 25 – 40 miles from her home on Cherokee tribal lands. The investigation is still pending as is the autopsy.

You can read it for yourself. Better journalists than I have laid out the story so I linked to them.

There’s this state of mind that happens when I write a memorial. Tunnel vision, you might say. I search for everything I can find – social media, news coverage, family and friend comments. Of course there are the details of the death, but I try to simple acknowledge and keep that brief. Honoring the victim is my focus. In some cases, the information is readily available especially if they have a Facebook profile. In other cases, I come up empty handed, struggling to find anything tied to their unique identity – a beloved music artist, a hobby, or a pet.

I comb through comments on social media. Often, I have to find their profiles if they use their deadname or a nickname or have multiple profiles. I use my genealogical/family tree searching skills – I have built a lot of trees for the victims to find a relative whose profile might shed more light.

I am immersed in their life and most often that means their death as of course everyone is talking about it. And when I am done, I step away so I can ease that grief and move on.

My memorials are limited to victims of anti-trans violence or trans victims of violence in the United States during a calendar year. It is not a definitive list, it is not a TDOR list although I work with many of those organizers. I do not write about deaths by suicide because I have to have a boundary or I would not endure. It is not a reflection on the value of any life, just a reflection of the limits of my own.

I have offered to publish guest posts for deaths by suicide. Anyone is welcome to reach out to me.

As of tonight, I have written 381 memorials in 12 years. I’ve written more for other folks – family members, friends in Pittsburgh, queer and trans folx in general. 381 is a lot. It doesn’t make me any more special than those writing for mainstream media or keeping lists or linking media coverage. But resources are shrinking so I feel this weight to keep going.

Yesterday, my list of deaths to investigate included 12 people, today 11. If I wait, that list will just grow. The overall number of 18 is not especially large for any given year, but I know the total losses by the end of the year will be significant. Losses to violence, suicide, addiction, and kidnapping by the US government.

This wasn’t even the post I intended to write. I’m still hyper focused and I need a break. It is 11:02 PM on a Saturday night in September and my thoughts wander to Oklahoma where I’ve never been and to the legacy of colonization.

Its not about me, but you all have made it about me by shifting responsibility for this work on me. Admittedly, I didn’t say no. But too many people rely on me for this information or updates or news. I would trade the praise and accolades for someone else to join me in this work.

At the same time, my nonprofit is struggling and I am struggling with trauma and legal cases of my own.

I live on $1500 /month and a lot of that goes to blogging expenses. There are no sponsors, no foundations that fund this work. This blog is my biggest asset. If my own life depending on the legal funds, I’d have to sell it – sell the content and the incoming links. I think about that possibility every day. And no matter how many times I say it, help is not forthcoming.

I’ll get through it if for no other reason than I’m willing to share this burden with you.

The comment I most often hear about this blog is something like “I saw your post on XYZ topic, but I didn’t read it/put it on my to do pile/skimmed it.” How is that supposed to be a compliment or a comfort? Just don’t say it. Read it. Or not. But I’m not going to give you credit or gratitude for partial effort. And I’m not going to let you off that easy. People are being brutally eradicated, obliterated, – mutilated my friend said today, trembling with fear. Half of your attention is not good enough.

It is also not going to protect you when they come for you. If you trust me as a source for LGBTQ news, trust this – they want to dissolve LGBTQ families – nullify marriage, reverse adoptions, weaken protections. If you think you or I are safe from that, you are a fool, my dear reader. The brutality targeting the trans community, the migrant and refugee communities, and women’s bodies – that’s not going to just stop. If you aren’t going to see a lawyer now to protect your family, again you are a fool.

Yes, our white privilege, your economic privilege might delay the inevitable. And you can’t let fear stop you from leading your life. But unlike 18 people, no 371 people – you are still able to do something to protect your family. And other families.

It has been 19 years since second parent adoption rights were won in court in Pennsylvania. And far too many families have not completed that process. It feels pretty hopeless that they are going to remove the blinders.

I have no family to protect. Just myself. Maybe my tunnel vision all these years contributed to the erosion of my marriage. There’s no way to know.

My friend is relocating to Oceania to find peace and be able to support the resistance.

Now that I’ve lectured and admonished you, I wonder if you are still reading? I should go to bed. I wish I could say that tomorrow I would rest, but that list remains an open tab on my laptop. I’m drawn to it, determined to make sure as many people as possible are counted. And remembered.

In December, I will celebrate the 20th anniversary of this blog. I’m not going to throw a party, but I’d like to commemorate this era that began in the Golden Age of Blogging and carried me to immense ‘Pittsburgh famous’ social media followings. What on earth could be next?

I am glad I have that to look forward to this year.