My queerness was something to be swept under the rug. Briefly acknowledge, brushed aside, and never to be spoken again. The silence was deafening. This was not the way it was supposed to be. Being a young, queer person in heteronormativity society has never been easy. It wasn't something you could just be and be accepted for it. We have to announce to the world we don't love the way others do. I thought it had to be this grand confession that would make or break the trust in my community that I had been building for years. My town did not find LGBTQ+ status to be celebratory. Sure, there would be an once a year pride festival, but the other 364 days of the year were lonely. I genuinely believed I was the only gay kid in town. I had no outlet to express myself. I couldn't feel proud of myself until I left town to attend college. I had already missed out on years of getting to know myself. I joined my school's Identity Club and finally found myself and created a chosen family. I began to feel passionate about LGBTQ+ advocacy and safety, because no one should have to wait years stuck in their own body and not feel like their authentic self. By the second semester of my first year, I had climbed up to be on this clubs board. On this board, I started making change in the institution. Our board was able to speak with administrators and advocate for LGBTQ+ housing and more gender neutral bathrooms. We started a conversation for inclusion. This experience has helped me shape a career full of advocacy and education. As a student studying English, there are so many paths for me to go down, and one of them feels crystal clear. I want to work with the public and spread knowledge while making it accessible. I am setting myself up to continue my education in library science. I want to make libraries a safer place to learn about yourself and others. As a librarian, my main goal is to offer a safe place for queer youth to express themselves in a secure environment. The library should be treated as a place to nurture our roots and grow. Everyday new bills are being presented to end the education of so many identities. We are living in a time where stories of injustice are erased from public education. These bills will damage the upcoming generation and erase THEIR stories. We can't let them go on to attack our libraries. We must raise a new generation of advocates who are willing to fight.

The best books of course need a hook, but why stop there? The best stories come full circle. “All the Light We Cannot See” by Anthony Doerr is the perfect example of that. This gut-wrenching historical novel follows the lives of two people who could not be more different. Marie-Laure Leblanc is a young refugee in Saint Melo. She must learn to navigate the new city as a blind girl. In Germany, Werner Pfennig is a German boy orphan. He is at the age where he will begin his life in the mines. He is an engineering prodigy who knows his way around a radio. He is recruited by the Nazis. These two could not be any more different. When you think of a circle, you know there is a center and what this book does is have these two unlikely people meet in the middle. Many people in Germany had to give over their radios to not intercept this information. Werner doesn’t. He hears a science broadcast narrated by a French man. Because of this, Werner was different than his Nazi companions. He had compassion. This radio broadcast stuck to him for all these years and came back in a time of need. While in France, he heard it and followed it and found Marie, the great nice to the broadcast-creator. At this point, Werner is looking at the person he was supposed to hate and saw her as a person. Although he was a person that she should be scared of, she offered the kindness of sharing peaches with him. In return, he helps her find a safe haven. This intersection has always stuck to me ever since I read the book several years back. Rebellion and education can really save a person.