I am purple. In a literal sense, I’m not actually purple - my skin isn’t purple nor do I have purple hair. But my heart and style are. I’m purple because I’ve learned to express myself. I wasn’t always purple. It took time to develop my confidence. Coming out as transgender in 2017, I had no space to explore my identity. I used clothes to hide from the world. I didn’t want to go anywhere near pink, fearing that if I stepped out of my blue confines, I would be impaled by the wrong pronouns. So, I held fast to blue. Wrapped strictly in hoodies and basketball shorts, I tried to hide the parts of me that I hated. But it only further emphasized my sense of misplacement. It wasn’t until I started testosterone in 2020 that I began to relax. The daily discomfort began to subside. I was able to breathe again. Clothes finally fit the way I wanted them to. I didn’t have to prove to the world that I was blue anymore - I could just be. Clothing gradually shifted from a tool for hiding to a tool for empowering my identity. I took a step towards pink - a pair of Urban Outfitter jeans that were (gasp) from the women's section. Despite this, I was shocked at how the high-waisted pants hid my hips and how masculine I felt. With encouragement from friends, I took more steps - platform boots, crop tops, eyeliner - finding that I wasn’t getting closer to pink like I feared, but rather taking steps into a new plane: a purple plane where I could be myself. I love my style. Clothes are how I express myself. When I'm wearing something colorful, I feel confident. I feel purple. I feel like me.

When I was in the second grade, I, like many of my classmates, was obsessed with the "Rainbow Fairy" book series. I was particularly infatuated with one called "Maya the Harp Fairy" because at the time that was my name. After finishing the book, I announced to my father that I wanted to take harp lessons and I begged him to take me to Lyon and Healy, a harp store conveniently in my neighborhood. When people ask me how I got into playing the harp, I typically brush off the question by vaguely telling them that I read about it in a book. I usually don't go into the "Maya the Harp Fairy" anecdote because I go by Kurt now and most people don't even know that I ever went by anything else. Coming out as transgender in 2017 was a difficult period of change and uncertainty for me but music was one of the few things that grounded me. At the time, I was with a teacher who encouraged creative expression and improvisation. She helped me arrange pieces for the harp and later inspired me to write my own composition. Her support and creative incitement helped me break out of my black-and-white outlook to learning music. I was able to fill my playing with color and express myself through harp. Now, my harp feels like an extension of myself. As I've grown up, my harp has grown up with me. The small blue lever's harp that I started on seems incredibly minute compared to the grand pedal harp I have today. A decade of practice sessions, lessons, concerts, and recitals has infused an intense love and passion for music into my life. I can't imagine what my life would look like without my harp.