From the editor
When there’s a potential for your existential interests and moral purpose to be at odds, which side wins out?
For most people, LGBT or not, romantic rejection and heartbreak is one of the most painful experiences in life — stuff of legends and poetry.
There’s an amazing and beautiful amount of variety in the ways people in the LGBT community interpret family, and in who we consider part of our families.
From our small-team athletic groups and LGBT social clubs to our big-name charities and organizations, all rely on people who sacrificed sweat and grit over countless hours for little or no compensation.
In many cases bars have been the meeting places and even the driving force behind our activism: what’s often called the birth of the modern LGBT movement, the Stonewall Riots, are named for the New York City gay bar where that uprising took place.
How often in our conversations about queer youth facing bullying do we hear LGBT adults say, yeah, once that was me?
I got to enact my dreams for the big screen on a local scale – playing in Colorado theatre house productions when I was 15 to 21, creating an identity through on-stage success, with dreams – the lofty goal – of one day taking it to the silver screen.
In most ways we’re no different from heterosexual couples, but one thing our community is full of – since ideas about romance are bound up with gender and the gender we are or want is what makes us LGBT – are really diverse ways to be in love.
I urge all of us in the LGBT and allied community to take a stand for the under-represented and under-served.
