Ever since I was a child, I was drawn to the art of storytelling. I imagined worlds where children’s winter snowmen marched back to the north pole in mass migrations, where two sock puppets named Bert and Squirt had petty arguments, and where a chicken who could not cross the road experienced schoolyard bullying. I would spend hours on Microsoft Word, perfecting my stories. I gave one to my grandfather every Christmas, to the point where he had a whole library of them years later. I guess it shouldn't be much of a surprise that I'd be graduating with Bachelors of Arts in English creative writing. In the summer, I will be attending the Denver Publishing Institute to learn more about book publishing. I'm interested in a wide range of books, in most genres for various audiences, but children's books have always interested me. I loved reading as a kid, and I read just about anything. Being involved in the process of getting books to kids with the sole goal of growing their knowledge and love of reading is such a privilege. Because of this, representation is so important. Not only will it get kids interested in a book, but normalizing versions of themselves in media will positively affect their worldview on such a massive, yet severely overlooked scale. I'm a transgender man, and growing up, I had absolutely no clue that people like me existed. I didn't know gay men existed until my mom started watching Modern Family when I was around 7 years old, and I didn't know lesbians existed until I got obsessed with Riverdale in 8th grade. These discoveries through media and the trails they sent me down allowed me to start questioning things, and helped ease the unnamed discomfort I had felt for so long. Since there still isn't much transgender representation, social media filled that gap for me. Honestly, without social media, I worry where I would've ended up in terms of self-acceptance and mental struggles. While I don't ascribe to the transphobic notions of "Our children shouldn't know what that is," or "They're too young to understand," or "Learning about that will screw them up," I do acknowledge that representation for trans or gender diverse children is tricky. If writing realistic fiction, often a portrayal of a trans kid will fall right through the cracks, just like the child reading it probably is. I know if someone chose my childhood self as the main character of a trans representative children's book, I would simply manifest as a little girl who liked "boy things," and for most, this isn't obvious enough representation. However, I believe that for younger audiences (lower elementary and younger), this could be acceptable. I think the most important representation or message we can give these kids is that it's okay to change. Transformation stories with community and tolerance will help broaden minds, and hopefully comfort those who align with those characters. Because of the difficulties with representing trans youth, I chose to write with the elements. I wanted to make the "transformation" really clear, which this world allowed for. "River to Rain" is a story about how natural it is to evolve, how to embrace changes in ourselves and others, and how important community and kindness can be. More specifically, this story is about gender diverse kids finding their way in the world, finding what feels best for them, and unlearning restrictive and unnecessary boundaries society has placed upon them. I hope children who resonate with the main character realize the possibilities out there, and I hope those who don't relate can pick up the themes of empathy and understanding for those who are different. This is my first children's book manuscript draft, and I got to learn a lot while crafting, so the experience has been a valuable trek for me. I always appreciate the chance to make something new outside my bounds, and I'm excited to take this knowledge with me while getting my certificate in publishing. I appreciate your consideration!

Ever since I was a child, I was drawn to the art of storytelling. I imagined worlds where children’s winter snowmen marched back to the north pole in mass migrations, where two sock puppets named Bert and Squirt had petty arguments, and where a chicken who could not cross the road experienced schoolyard bullying. I would spend hours on Microsoft Word as a child, perfecting my stories. As I grew up, I discovered different loves: film, the outdoors, sports, but I always came back to the written word. However, as I found myself falling into different labels: lesbian, nonbinary, and finally, a trans guy, finding representation in the stories I used to love got difficult and frustrating. Even as a white, straight, transgender man, the options were, and still are, extremely limited. I know this lack of representation doesn’t stem from a lack of diverse creators, but rather from a lack of opportunities available to them. Because of this, I aspire to reach these positions, not only to provide representation for others, but to help others up the ladder after me. Being transgender is often an isolating experience. In our own families, the workplace, and even the classroom, our presentation or identities can create a barrier with others, of no fault of our own. Sometimes we feel the need to bridge it, to conform to others, to make things “easier” and “understandable.” I’ve definitely felt this way, whether it’s not speaking up when I'm misgendered, censoring my writing themes, or not speaking at all, for fear of my voice being too high. However, when I’m writing for myself, this all becomes obsolete. I write for the young boy in a slicked back ponytail and a Justice t-shirt he hated, watching Disney princess movies with his sister, wishing he could be the prince instead of the princess. I write him as the noble knight and the agile pirate, but also as the grim reaper, a mountain man, and a ghost with scars. Maybe it’s just the pleasant “weirdness” being gender diverse encourages, but I never limit my characters; they are what they are. We are all capable and deserving of the complexities these stories allow us to embody, even if for just a short, fleeting moment. I pursued this passion for writing while at Western Washington University, majoring in English with a creative writing emphasis, and minoring in communication studies. After graduating this spring, I will continue to journey toward my dream of working in the publishing industry by attending the Denver Publishing Institute and earning my certificate. Unfortunately, I lost some of my educational savings recently, during a health crisis relating to my hormones, but I’ve had setbacks before, and I’m not keen on rolling over. I’ve always wanted to storytell because it’s the closest thing to magic in this world. People underappreciate the arts. It’s a hard business. It doesn’t seem as serious to the lawyers, engineers, or doctors of the world, but art is culture, and culture is us. Storytelling is one of the oldest forms of true human connection. It holds the power of representation, of resonance, and the potential for change. Although there might be challenges, to me, there’s nothing more worthwhile to pursue. Having a voice and sharing stories is both power and privilege, and something we shouldn’t take for granted or dare to underestimate, especially now.