This Pride, we’re launching an exciting storytelling campaign: “Voices of Pride: Sharing Our Stories”. This initiative is all about celebrating the beautiful diversity and resilience within the 2TIGE community. We believe that every story holds power—the power to inspire, to educate, and to connect us all on a deeper level.
As part of this campaign, we’ve pre-loaded a couple of prompts for our community storytellers to share their experiences.
Why Your Story Matters:
🌟 Authentic Representation: Your experiences contribute to a richer, more vibrant tapestry of our community.
💌 Connection: Sharing your journey can be a beacon of support and solidarity for someone in a similar situation.
🎉 Celebration: It’s a way to honor our achievements, struggles, and the ongoing journey towards equality and understanding. How to Participate:
Reflect on your unique experiences and what Pride means to you.
Craft your story—whether it’s a defining moment, a message of hope, or a celebration of identity.
Share it with us! Submit your responses to the prompt(s) that excite you, by clicking here.
Also, please don’t worry about perfection; it’s your authenticity and joy that we want to see!
A narrative on identity and art by artist, filmmaker, and professor K Pontuti
I grew up in a small farm town in Ohio at a time where there wasn’t any language around queerness or transness—at least nothing positive. It was also a time without the internet so information wasn’t as easily available. I remember hearing phrases like “he’s really sensitive,” ”…so creative,” “…so sweet,” “…really insecure,” which later gave way to “he’s a momma’s boy,” “needs toughening up,” “has to learn what is to be a man,” “must be a queer.”
I was quite sensitive, and I could feel my difference although I didn’t quite understand it. I was also creative and became immersed in my imagination through making things. I taught myself to draw by copying my favorite comics – Charlie Brown and Snoopy were top billed in my cast of characters – and some of my fondest childhood memories are of sewing and crafting with my mom. Soon, though, I was steered towards building model cars and airplanes…“boy stuff.” (My sisters’) Barbies were replaced with G.I. Joes.
Like I think many do, I managed by burying it all, and through determination, desperation, and the privileges of a “straight cisgendered man,” I was able to carve out a “good life” for myself as an adult. At least for a while.
Over the years and in hindsight, I remember sensing glimpses of my yet-to-be-recognized queerness through tinglings and fuzzy feelings but mostly just moments of seeing other people living and experiencing life outside of the cisgendered binary and thinking, “Huh…” and sometimes, “That’s beautiful.”
But life’s responsibilities and gendered pathways and norms didn’t leave a lot of room for me to pose these bigger questions to myself. Even though there was an unrecognizable emptiness, anxiety, depression, and
dysphoria manifesting as eating disorders, self-medication, over exercising, and an insatiable drive to prove that I was worth something, I must have known subconsciously that someday this this slimy, hairy, shitball-of-a-person inside of me would be exposed—and I’d have to come to terms with it all.
A few years ago, as I was wrapping up post production on our film, The Yellow Wallpaper (not ever imagining that I may have been the tragic story’s trapped woman), I fell into a mental health crisis that landed me in the emergency room. I was fortunate to have checked myself in, and even more fortunate to have a supportive partner and family to get me there and back. I started therapy and a long process of excavating the why’s, how’s, and now what’s of why I had forever felt this way (and, of course, this was all happening through the start of the pandemic).
I also started drawing again which was the other thing that saved me. Immersed in the simple act of putting pencil to paper, the ideas started flowing, the dexterity came back, and then it just exploded and everything poured out.
Since then, I’ve been going all in exploring my identity, trauma, and past. Making new drawings and scouring through old ones. Doing more therapy…and lots of shopping.
As might be expected, my artwork explores themes of gender identity, bodily autonomy, mental health, queerness, and trans rights, all from a very personal perspective. The work is very autobiographical and chronicles my transition as it unfolds, in real time.
This past September, I had my first gallery show in ages and titled it Pray And Be Thankful 4 Everything. For me it was a title that walked a line between irony and authenticity. I was so very thankful for everything, but I was also sick and tired of being told that I should be. The exhibition was amazing on so many levels; personally, professionally, and in an incredibly affirming way. I did as many presentations as I could, especially once I saw the impact it was making.
The show provided a platform to start direct conversations about important topics, but definitely raised a lot of eyebrows at the university. Through it all, I’ve received many notes, read student and faculty-written reflections, and had conversations that have brought me to tears. I’ve also felt the ostracization and distancing that many queer and trans people experience. But the good absolutely outweighs the bad, and the joy and satisfaction of realizing who I am, and why I am, has made it one of the most amazing years I could ever imagine.
When I look back at my younger self, that sweet kid that liked to sew with mom, who had no idea what was coming their way, no language or support for what was happening to them…I get really sad and feel an incredible loss. The loss of a childhood. And to think it was all spun so well that I thought something was terribly wrong with me.
Now, that sadness turns to anger as I watch people, corporations, even my home state of Ohio, wage war on trans rights (as well as the rights of many others). That sadness turns to rage as I watch the stripping away of the tools, education, and medical care that kids and their families need in order to comprehend who they are and survive.
I’m sure it’s not easy to be a trans kid today, but I never had the chance to find out for myself, and the alternative wasn’t so easy for me, either. I’m still doing my daily drawing practice, and I funnel all of my sadness and anger and rage and grief into my art where I can turn it into strength, hope, and self-affirmation. Deep down, I know
these are the things that I need, and I’m now receiving, so that I can continue my journey, and hopefully help others continue theirs.
So yeah, in that sense I am truly thankful.
See more of K’s work on their website: https://www.kpontuti.com/
In the burgeoning digital age, it is not uncommon for couples to meet online, and this is exactly how El and Elliott first connected. Elliott submitted a personals ad looking for friendship and dates, and El excitedly answered the call. During their first in-person hangout in January 2019, El suggested that they spend time in their pajamas drinking tea and watching their mutual favorite show Bob’s Burgers. Afterward, the two were practicallyinseparable!
Their second hang out was spent at the local kumquat festival in El’s hometown, and yes, it is as cute as it sounds. During the festival, Elliott got to meet El’s brother, who happily invited Elliott to his stepdaughter’s 11th birthday party, despite having only met Elliott for the first time that day. Later that evening, Elliott had the choice to go home or attend the party with El. In that moment, Elliott had a thought: wherever El goes, I want to follow. It was not long after the kumquat festival that Elliott slowly began to realize his platonic fondness for El was the start of a romantic crush. Unbeknownst to Elliott, El had started off the relationship with a crush on Elliott! Over bowls of delicious pho at the local Thai temple, Elliott confessed his feelings for El, which sparked the love of a lifetime!
Although every moment feels memorable when El and Elliott are together, there are some peak highlights. In an eager attempt to woo El, Elliott, who had never baked before in his life, made El’s favorite type of pie, stuck candles in a pie slice, and told El that each candle represented the birthdays that El had spent alone during college, but now that Elliott was here, El would never have to be alone on his birthday from now on. OnValentine’s Day in 2020, El took Elliott to the city aquarium and purchased an extra experience where the two got to go behind the scenes and meet the resident penguins!
In addition to their local fun, the love birds have also spent quite a bit of time traveling out-of-state: an arts therapy conference in New York City; a Tobe Nwigwe concert in Atlanta; a memorial service for El’s beloved professor in Rhode Island; an exclusive tattoo session in Brooklyn; and so much more!
After two full years of love, softness, and healing, El proposed to Elliott via a stunning wood-burned box with handcrafted resin mahjong tiles that spelled out “Will you marry me” on Lunar New Year 2021. Being Chinese American, Elliott had a strong nostalgic connection to the game of mahjong, and in the time of coronavirus, the Lunar New Year felt extra special and sacred. As a multimedia artist, El wood-burned significant Chinese characters that represented him and Elliott, along with an image of two ducklings, which symbolizes everlasting love in Chinese culture. In addition to the beautiful imagery on the box, El painstakingly created a number of mahjong tiles from resin and a set of tiles that helped pop the question.
In March 2020, El and Elliott nervously but excitedly started their transmasculine journey. They started off with calling each other by their chosen names in private, then using their names at coffee shops, before confidently coming out as El and Elliott in social and professional settings. About a year later, El and Elliott took their first shots of testosterone on the same day. In September 2021, El underwent gender affirming top surgery, and in the weeks after, Elliott took gentle care of El during his recovery. In mid-2022, El and Elliott went through the process of legally changing their names, and the two of them could not be happier in watching the other grow and transform into their most authentic selves!
El and Elliott got married on February 20, 2022, and it was absolutely magnificent and beautiful to be openly queer and trans on the wedding day. The venue host, photographers, DJs, and guests were affirming of the joyous couple—never failing to use their correct pronouns and names. Rainbows and trans pride colors were woven into nearly aspect of the wedding: the flowers, the table centerpieces, the decorations, the horse carriage. Yes, El and Elliott rode up to the wedding ceremony in a horse- drawn carriage decorated with gay and trans pride flowers and ribbons! The entire wedding was truly a euphoric celebration of queer trans love.
When friends and family ask about married life, El and Elliott like to say that every day feels like a honeymoon. After four years of being together, the two still have not tired of one another. If anything, their relationship has grown stronger as the days, months, and years pass. The pair have gone through their generous share of ups and downs, but it feels like each moment together makes them fall more and more deeply in love with one another.
Currently, El is attending graduate school in art therapy and counseling, while Elliott remains on the look out for a fulfilling long-term career. The love birds are enjoying their sacred space filled with queer trans love, creating art, reading books, playing games, engaging in thoughtful conversations, and spending time with each other and their loved ones. In the future, El and Elliott anticipate writing a joint memoir that explores their individual and shared experiences with race and ethnicity, gender, sexualities, and more.
As an older trans woman, out of my myriad of experiences over the years, some of which includes working with veterans, I have found there is much healing through accessing and processing grief. I believe that much of what is going on with our current climate of transphobia in many states can be helped by listening to one another with depth. More important is an understanding that letting go of a systemic ideology of the gender binary means grieving the loss of those systems that were not questioned 40 years ago. It means that there is much work and discomfort ahead, both individually and collectively from a societal perspective, to let go and find greater acceptance and compassion for the trans and non-binary communities.
My poem, “Grief” speaks to that mindset.
Grief
By Alicia Sainz Arballo
In the early evening
a group of aging veterans
make their way up
the hill.
Flanked by the young
who know little of the
elders’ past.
Shoulders slumped, heads down,
the path anything but inviting.
Not the arduousness of the climb,
but the task:
To unbury the moment of loss.
Relive the trauma, the pain.
and fear.
Then fight through that,
and allow themselves time to grieve.
As the stars begin to peak through
the darkening sky.
Stillness.
Graying, weathered, aching,
They choose a spot to lie
facing the heavens
and invite the energy of the blackness
to surround them.
The hardened dirt,
a welcome mat
keeping each from sinking
beyond the depths into a
colorless,
feeling less,
void.
There,
they shout the names of those killed,
who fought beside them.
As the words leave their lips,
tears, then weeping,
bodies shaking.
Years of sadness and horror
locked away.
Unknowingly,
weighing each one down
with sickness, anger, and depression.
The youth surround them
laying their small hands on each.
Supporting
their energy
dissipating
the combined grief.
The last of them
pronouncing their loss,
streams of sadness
flowing down the corners
of their water filled eyes,
moistening the earth.
Gone now,
their pain
I say to myself
Is there a hill for us to climb?
A place to lay down,
yell at the stars
and let go?
Our perceptions of what has been,
For what is.
A child says to their mother
“I’m not a girl, I’m a boy.”
Let go….
A man says to his wife of 30 years,
“I’m a woman.”
Let go…..
A woman says to her girlfriends,
“I don’t feel like a woman, and I don’t feel like a man,
I’m not sure who I am.”
Let go….
Systems of gender that have held us as a society
without question
to understand the anger and fear,
and know grief is a path
where we may find a place of
stillness to
examine our feelings.
Where we may witness our discomfort,
our history of denial
and know,
without accessing this loss
and release,
allowing outstretched hands
to comfort what we’re afraid
may never be
again.
Alicia Sainz Arballo is a transgender woman who started her medical transition at the age of 62 years old. She is a life long educator who worked for the Los Angeles Unified School district as a counselor and teacher for 36 years. She facilitated her school’s GSA club and provided teachers with professional developments to better navigate the needs of her school’s LGBTQIA+ community. She is also a musician, playing guitar since the age of six, and poet, recently participating in the “My Life is Poetry” workshop through Los Angeles LGBTQ center, and is working at publishing a chapbook on her coming out process. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in Music from California State University Northridge, and a Masters in Counseling from California Lutheran University. She continues to advocate for trans affirming health care for all ages.
It’s not news in the Trans* community how powerful a tool storytelling can be. Just look at the classic instance of it being used against us in the fear-mongering, fictional tale of a man infiltrating the ladies’ restroom as a “Trans* woman” to then take advantage of vulnerable parties. The recorded instance of anything like this actually happening is non-existent. But that little fictional tale has scared hundreds of people, turned them against the Trans* community, may even have helped make a TERF out of a certain famous author. Apparently, you don’t need facts if you have a good story (as sales of said author’s fantasy books can certainly testify to), and a good story can’t be silenced by facts.
So rather than fight fire with a Health & Safety code (rare is the individual who actually reads those), we must fight fire with water. Why give oxygen to the inflammatory stories intended to demonize Trans* people when there exists a plethora of stories to tell that are a perfect antidote? Endless tales of Trans* folk who have been so impactful as to infringe on the mainstream. Trans* success stories like that of Laverne Cox, Elliot Page, Jonathan Van Ness, Judith Butler, Lana and Lilly Wachowski are as well-worn books, thumbed through by many a reader. Just as important are the local stories. The openly gay and married professor at my university who helped my lesbian friend believe she could live a long and happy life as herself. The Trans* guy I hung out with years ago who is now documenting his transition on social media – the Trans* guy who helped me feel less abnormal. Telling your story gives something for other Trans* folk to identify with and gives people outside the community a real person to sympathize with instead of a twisted stereotype to mock or a skewed caricature to fear. And building these connections builds influence and power.
The #MeToo movement is a useful recent example of the power of storytelling. Millions of people worldwide shared their stories, helping to build a global sense of community and getting most of the planet talking about the pervasive issue of sexual assault. This movement led to charges being brought against serial sexual predators, job losses for many accused figures, and in several states even a ban on the use of nondisclosure agreements relating to incidences of sexual misconduct. Over four years since the movement went viral on social media, more than half of Americans say they are more likely to speak out about sexual misconduct. The number of employed who received training on workplace harassment has increased. The percentage of employed who perceive a serious sexual misconduct issue at their place of work has almost halved since 2017. All because people were brave enough to tell their stories.
Storytelling is important not just to build political power in the current moment, but for crafting a lasting Trans* history and a data resource on Trans* identities and lives. As of right now, alongside the Trans* historical figures we have, there are plenty of famous figures of unknown or ambiguous gender identity, and those presumed to be cisgender. The more Trans* stories we tell now, the more solidified the place of Trans* people in history becomes. The larger the data pool, the harder it is to ignore, the more it has to be factored into more general cultural and political conversations. Trans* literature is an emerging discipline; just as writing by women had to be told again and again to become the established academic sect it is today, writing and engaging with more Trans* stories will help to establish the Trans* voice in literary study. Beyond literature, our language itself is shaped by cultural forces – and the influence of Trans* storytelling has led to words including ‘cisgender’ and ‘genderqueer’ being added to dictionaries. In 2018, the Oxford English Dictionary added ‘Trans*’. Pop-culture is currently littered with slang from and references to queer culture. History is not always written by the victors, but being able to write yourself into history is a form of victory.
became immersed in my imagination through making things. I taught myself to draw by copying my favorite comics – Charlie Brown and Snoopy were top billed in my cast of characters – and some of my fondest childhood memories are of sewing and crafting with my mom. Soon, though, I was steered towards building model cars and airplanes…“boy stuff.” (My sisters’) Barbies were replaced with G.I. Joes.
dysphoria manifesting as eating disorders, self-medication, over exercising, and an insatiable drive to prove that I was worth something, I must have known subconsciously that someday this this slimy, hairy, shitball-of-a-person inside of me would be exposed—and I’d have to come to terms with it all.
through old ones. Doing more therapy…and lots of shopp
In the burgeoning digital age, it is not uncommon for couples to meet online, and this is 
El and Elliott got married on February 20, 2022, and it was absolutely magnificent and 
Alicia Sainz Arballo is a transgender woman who started her medical transition at the age of 62 years old. She is a life long educator who worked for the Los Angeles Unified School district as a counselor and teacher for 36 years. She facilitated her school’s GSA club and provided teachers with professional developments to better navigate the needs of her school’s LGBTQIA+ community. She is also a musician, playing guitar since the age of six, and poet, recently participating in the “My Life is Poetry” workshop through Los Angeles LGBTQ center, and is working at publishing a chapbook on her coming out process. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in Music from California State University Northridge, and a Masters in Counseling from California Lutheran University. She continues to advocate for trans affirming health care for all ages.