When I turned twelve, my extended family came over to celebrate. I vividly remember them spending at least two hours of my birthday party talking about how "the gays will go to hell", among other harsh, homophobic, and transphobic things. I remember saying I needed to go to the bathroom, stopping to sit on the top step, staring at the wall while I heard them talking. At the time, I had recently realized I was attracted to girls. I saw them in a similar light to boys. I desired to love them, in the most wholesome and youthful way. It wasn't long before I ended up dating my middle school girlfriend, who I recall holding hands with at the zoo during a field trip. I was elated, by the vast joy of feeling at peace and seeing a beautiful person share it with you. Of course, that joy was cut short upon witnessing a woman usher her kids away from us, looking horrified that we were holding hands in a public place. Regardless, I don’t know if I had figured out that I was bisexual yet. Despite this, I knew I was, in some capacity, what they were describing: queer, different.  When I initially came out, I was utterly terrified. I do not think it is uncommon to experience anxiety about coming out or fears about how your family might react. When I decided it was time, I couldn't stop thinking about my twelfth birthday. I came out to my brother first, almost a year before my parents. I was in high school, I believe, in my sophomore year. When I finally told my mom, it was after we had gone to the ice rink together, and I said I wanted to leave early. I felt nauseous and awful, but some part of me knew that was the day. She cried. I cried. But what scared me was that she didn’t understand. She badgered me with questions and I felt lost. She asked me how I could know I liked women if I had never been with one, and I responded, "How did you know you liked men before you dated one?" The conversation died, and we walked into the house silently. The only words exchanged were a brief request not to tell Dad as I wanted to reveal it to him myself. When we got home, I went to my brother's room and told him what happened. My mom told my dad, who quickly came upstairs. I remember hearing their footsteps approaching, and my heart slamming in my chest. But my dad, the kind-hearted soul he is, just hugged me, saying “I might not understand, but someday I will”. It took several years to adjust to my sexuality, which I’m sure was expounded by my coming out as non-binary/gender-nonconforming. Either way, the years of thinking of the moment on the stairs held me back from being able to accept my sexuality and to believe my family could never accept me. This story serves as a reminder of why it is critical to offer open, vocal support to the LGBTQ+ community. Coming out is terrifying, and that support can change a life and give an individual someone to turn to. As a Queer individual, I hope to take this knowledge of acceptance to any role I fit into. I make it clear that I am someone to confide in, I am always willing to listen and provide support, whether it is for my fellow LGBTQ+ individuals, or for any other person who is feeling neglected or overlooked.

From my youth until now, no movie adaptation has ever compared to Lord of the Rings. Although capturing all of Tolkien's brilliant work in film may seem physically impossible, this movie effectively tells the story in a relatively timely manner. One of the most magnificent aspects of the film adaptation of The Lord of the Rings is the opportunity to witness the captivating visual elements that bring Tolkien's fantastical world to life. The stunning landscapes of New Zealand transport you into a world where the realm of middle-earth feels undeniably real, evoking a sense of wonder as you explore the enchanting hobbit dwellings, majestic mountain ranges, and exquisite elvish architecture. These are details we can imagine in the novels, but the film visual is exquisite to see. Moreover, the talented cast of these movies excels in breathing life into the endearing characters that have captured my imagination. Viggo Mortensen's Aragorn brings us the most kind-hearted, strong, and stoic man ever to grace the screen. Sean Astin's portrayal of Samwise Gamgee is truly captivating, as he flawlessly embodies the character's endearing qualities of love, care, and compassion, leaving a lasting impact on the audience. The characters, whom I have adored since my youth, come to life from the pages in the film adaptation, in a manner that my young mind could never comprehend, and that my grown-up self cherishes even more than anything else. In my life, there has rarely been a book series that ever caught my attention quite like Tolkien's most famous works. But further, there has never been an adaptation that I have found such soul in. In an era where numerous filmmakers strive to dismantle gender stereotypes, it is essential to turn our attention to this series that portrays men as powerful individuals who embrace their emotions instead of suppressing them. This healthy, beautiful masculinity is so refreshing. Watching Aragorn manage his emotions while still expressing them is a perfect embodiment of stoicism at its best. The brotherhood of the fellowship, the bravery of Éowyn, the trust all our favorite characters share touch our hearts and create strong protagonists, regardless of gender. Of course, Tolkien's world is far too large to include in any average length film, so despite their 3 hour each status, there are portions of the story that must be left out. Take for example, the stories of Tom Bombadil that are featured in the early chapters of Fellowship of the Ring, which are not included in the movie. Realistically, these dense and detailed texts cannot be covered in 3 hours. If they wanted a perfectly accurate film, each would need to be 5 or more hours. However, the 9-hour watch of the full trilogy has become my favorite series of films ever made. Each time I watch it, I am transported back to the books, filled with a magnificent cast of characters that are both endearing and extraordinary, igniting a captivating exhilaration within your very soul.

This is the single most impossible question for me to answer. Literature, with its vast array of forms and styles, holds different meanings for different people and also conveys a multitude of ideas based on the author's perspective. There is no book in this world that I can define as one everyone must read. I can only suggest those which have altered my life in some meaningful way. For example, I might recommend reading Lord of the Rings, on account of its vivid world-building, fantastical settings, and lovable characters. The way it pulls you in and makes you dream of living a life in Hobbiton, with Merry, Pippin, and Sam. Or maybe The Picture of Dorian Gray, for its commentary on beauty, youth, and guilt. As we watch Dorian's painting decay, we can imagine how our own might look if we had such a curse. I could even recommend Night, a novel that shows the true evil of the Nazi regime. May we understand the atrocities so that they may never be repeated. What makes literature magical is that there is no one "must read" novel. Our personal preferences are shaped by our own experiences, the experiences of others, and the way authors weave words into captivating stories. Books are like portals to other worlds, serving as a lens between people, to see the world as they do. We gain insight into our identities, cultures, and find a sense of belonging. What I love, you may not, but perhaps they will impact your soul and spirit as they have for me. Regardless, what matters is the art we consume and the meaning we find within it.

As a queer student, I am often viewed as different or unique. I dress differently, act differently, and due to my status as a non-binary individual, I can be confusing to those around me. However, I have never allowed this to stop me from being kind. Just because I appear or act differently does not mean I will treat you differently. I think that there are many people who cannot wrap their heads around the breaking of the binary, and being non-binary is a culmination of that exact confusion. I try to be open and communicative so that those who are curious may gain a deeper understanding of what it means to be non-binary. For me, existing between the binaries simply feels right. I was never comfortable as a woman, but I cannot see myself as a man either. Rather, I feel that I am the most at home somewhere in between masculine and feminine, ever-changing, fluid, and completely up to me. I may express however I wish. I know that some of those I meet do not understand that. I volunteer in a few different places to try and benefit my community. I believe that people need kindness to make a change, and I implement that as a student leader in the LGBTQ+ club at my college, and as a volunteer. I personally love working with "Giving Bikes Back", where my dad and I can help repair second-hand bikes and give them away. I get to work directly with my community and spend time with my dad, whose passion for bikes and bike-based transport motivates me to understand environmental care and transportation improvement. To be able to watch kids receive a bike, typically with a massive smile, and a new helmet and lock is unbelievable. To bring joy and opportunity to people, regardless of their age, is miraculously even better. Being queer is a challenge in many areas of life, but as a volunteer, my unique qualities do not take away from the gratefulness that those in my community show me. I love being able to help others, even if it is in a small way. Helping others gives life value, especially in a society where people put the most value on meaningless material goods, and not the value of people themselves. If I can make an impact on one person's life, then I have created purpose in my own.

As a child, I read constantly. I always had a book in my hand, and usually a backup in my bag or the car. I learned the functions of society, the identities of people, and the diversity of life all through literature. But this was not from reading statistics or nonfiction explanations of mankind. Rather, I learned that people express themselves through their art. When I read, I absorb more than the words on the page. I become intimately connected with the artist who wrote it. To me, this is a magical experience. You are gifted the opportunity to view the world through someone else's eyes and experience new worlds, and interactions that have never been open to you before. Studying literature does more than teach you grammar or symbolism. It teaches you about the world, and the many dynamic experiences your peers are having around you. Literature is the way we can change the world. I see the cruelty extended to those around me. As a queer person, I wish to stop the injustices against people like me, my friends who are people of color, and all those who are denied their right to live. To read is to see the experiences of others, and thus you may understand what must be changed in this world. To study English is to complete the pursuit of my childhood self, who dreamed of nothing more than an infinite library to live in. I intend to apply all that I learn to all I can, especially that which may make this world better.

As of late, the most replayed song on my Spotify has been Boys Don't Cry by The Cure. This may not seem extremely meaningful, but to me it is. Boys Don't Cry was about the pressure to conform. In my experience, even though this song was written in the 80s, it still expresses a lot of the same issues I see now. I am a bisexual, trans-masc person with a boyfriend. I have rarely tried to conform. I believe that Individuality is what makes humanity interesting. Being raised female, I often felt uncomfortable when I heard boys say things like "I don't cry" because I knew that emotions were very important and should be released. As I got older I realized these boys were taught this idea by their fathers and grandfathers. I've seen the way these ideas affect men. They bottle up their emotions and when they finally feel safe with someone, they may come out. It breaks my heart to see the way that emotions are treated. I find that this song feels comforting. I cry frequently. It is how I release my stress and frustration. Just because I am nonbinary or trans-masculine does not mean this will change, and it doesn't have to. Conformity is overrated and boring. I love when the music I listen to encourages us to be ourselves and own our emotions. I hope that, as time goes on, we can have less pressure to hide our feelings or conform to societal norms.

Growing up queer, you often feel isolated. Even with LGBTQ+ friends or peers, it can be hard to feel like you fit in when no one represents you. Now that I am in college, I recognize that this is due to a lack of visibility in the media. As a kid, I was a heavy reader. I consumed literature constantly. I struggled to feel connected to the characters. They show queer characters through rose-colored glasses. Relationships and struggles with identity are not prioritized. They label the characters as "the gay best friend", and other stereotypes without diving deeper. I want to see realistic representations of the struggles we face. I want to read about a character who feels like me. I want to read about a young girl realizing that maybe they're not a girl. I am studying English with the intent to minor in communications. I intend to work in publishing or media with one goal in mind: making minority groups feel represented. I hope to work with writers and artists to put the stories of our people out into the world. Minority groups need representation. I will do all I can to make that possible.