Foreword: A Holy Day in a HolyWeek
Rev. Erica Saunders She/Her AWAB Board of Directors
In the following pages, you will come face to face with stories of prophetic authenticity, audacious joy, and holy resilience. We publish these stories on Trans Day of Visibility to celebrate the gifts of our trans siblings and center their richly varied experiences, which too often go overlooked.
As trans folks know, visibility is a double-edged sword. It is dangerous to live as a trans person in the United States. Many seek to legislate our bodies out of public life or twist sacred texts into weapons of genocide. Yet claiming our truth and living into our callings brings divine life into the shadow of the valley of death.
More and more I believe it’s no accident that Trans Day of Visibility this year falls in Holy Week. With Viewed and Voiced, we join Jesus in a triumphant parade that defies the death-dealing powers and principalities. We declare that to live, love, and pray as trans people is to experience resurrection with Christ.
To the contributors, thank you for your courageous witness. To those reading, may these reflections anchor us in the Beloved Community by convicting us to faithful solidarity with our trans siblings.
In addition to her work with AWAB, The Rev. Erica Saunders is communications manager of BPFNA~Bautistas por la Paz. One of the first openly trans women ordained in Baptist life, she serves on the board of directors of the Alliance of Baptists
About “Viewed &Voiced” Submissions
The submissions in Viewed & Voiced are shared as they were received from each creator. AWAB has not edited or altered these pieces because this publication is a celebration of trans, nonbinary, and gender-diverse expression in its most honest and authentic form.
Names and pronouns are included exactly as provided by each contributor, as an expression of dignity, identity, and self-definition.
This year, we invited contributors to share not only their creative work but also their voice. Each creator was asked to tell us a little about themselves and to respond to a simple but powerful prompt:
Imagine you are at a microphone at a press conference or podcast that the whole world can hear. As a member of the trans community, what is your message to the world?
This is the “Voiced” in “Viewed & Voiced”.
As you engage these offerings, we invite you to release expectations around grammar, structure, or polish. What you will find here is not meant to be perfect—it is meant to be real. This is art. This is testimony. This is a reflection. Each piece offers an invitation to listen, to feel, and to encounter the sacred through the lived experiences of others.
It is our hope that you leave this collection feeling grounded, moved, and reminded of the truth we hold at the center of our work: that every person is created in the image of God and worthy of being seen, heard, and affirmed.
And if something in these pages resonates with you, we invite you to carry it forward and perhaps to add your own voice in the years to come, as we continue the sacred work of ensuring that all queer siblings, especially those too often pushed to the margins, are truly Viewed and Voiced.
Meet Jonathan Evans He/Him St. Luke Missionary Baptist Church
I am Jonathan K. Evans (he/him), a member of the St. Luke Missionary Baptist Church in Charlotte, NC (AWAB member) and a Master of Divinity student at Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School. (AWAB Education Partner)
As a Black trans man of faith, my calling is rooted in helping people, especially LGBTQIA believers, reclaim a spiritual home where they can encounter a God who already knows and loves them fully. I was inspired to submit this sermon to Voiced & Viewed because Trans Day of Visibility is not only about being seen by the world, but about reminding ourselves and others that we have always been seen by God.
If I had a microphone for the whole world to hear, my message would be this: the God of justice and liberation has always stood with those pushed to the margins-- and trans people are no exception.
Because I
Knew You: Known and Named by God
A Sermon by Jonathan K. Evans He/Him/His
St. Luke Missionary Baptist Church
Scripture: “Now the word of the Lord came to me saying, ‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.’” - Jeremiah 1:4-5 (NRSV)
My siblings in Christ, I want to begin with a truth that many of us learn early in life: people will name you before they truly know you Sometimes those names come from strangers, sometimes from systems, and sometimes, even more painfully, from people we once loved.
There was a season in my life where I was surrounded by people who had many names for me. They called me brother. They called me leader. Some even called me noble. Those were the names that came when I was living inside the expectations people had for me
But when my truth became visible when people learned something about me they were not prepared to accept those names changed.
Suddenly, the language shifted. The same people who once called me brother had new names ready. They called me a deception. They called me her. Being real with you, they called me every word your mom or grandma would hit you upside the head or put soap in your mouth for And unfortunately, with those names came death threats All this to diminish me; to wound me; to reduce me into someone not worth being included.
And in that moment, I had to wrestle with a question: which name do I believe?
And church, if we’re honest, that question isn’t unique to me Many of us have lived long enough to know what it feels like to be misnamed To have people assign names to your life that don’t reflect your heart, your calling, or your character.
But beloved, when that question rises in our spirit, when we begin to wonder whose name carries the most weight, God answers with four simple words: because I knew you. These four simple words, just as they are spoken to us, were spoken to the prophet Jeremiah In a time when the Israelites were positioned to be destroyed and exiled, God called Jeremiah to prophesy to the nations to speak to his people so they could turn from their ways and return to Him. Understandably, Jeremiah objects to the call over his life, feeling inadequate, unworthy, and hesitant. Yet those negative feelings Jeremiah adopted from his earthly perspective were not congruent with God's truth for him. God had already named Jeremiah as His prophet, while Jeremiah had named himself everything but that
And scripture does not stop there, because the God who knows us is also the God who names us
Listen to what the Lord declares in Isaiah 43:1: “But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine.”
Church, that means before the world ever had a label for you, God already had a name for you Before your past tried to define you, before your mistakes tried to reduce you, before society tried to categorize you God had already spoken identity over your life.
But the truth is, family, God is not the only voice that tries to name us. The world has always had its own names ready. And unlike God's naming, which flows from true knowing, the world's naming flows from fear from discomfort from what it cannot understand or control
And if you want to see how quickly the world can name someone without knowing them, you don't have to look any further than the land of Oz. Here, we are introduced to Elphaba Thropp and Glinda Upland. The pair meet one day at Shiz University the Harvard of Oz, if you will and from the very beginning Elphaba is met with disgust and looked down upon.
Before she speaks a word, before she shows who she truly is, the world has already named her: Greenie. Troublemaker. Outcast. The labels come fast and they come early.
And if we are honest, even Glinda is not innocent in this moment. When they first meet, Glinda is part of the crowd that laughs, dismisses, and misunderstands Elphaba. What begins between them is rivalry, not friendship But over time, something begins to shift
One night at the Ozdust Ballroom, Elphaba finds herself dancing alone while the entire room laughs at her. In that moment, someone in the crowd dismisses her, saying she clearly doesn’t care what anyone thinks.
And Glinda quietly responds with a line that reveals something deeper: She pretends not to In that small moment we realize something the crowd has missed: Glinda sees her. She recognizes the heart behind Elphaba’s strength: the courage, the compassion, the deep commitment to justice.
Because here’s the truth the crowd never stopped to notice: Elphaba was brilliant. She was fiercely compassionate She was an advocate for the voiceless when everyone around her chose comfort over courage.
But the people of Oz never cared to know her. Instead, they settled on a name. And eventually, they called her Wicked.
Here church, we see the difference between being known about and being truly known. And that difference is exactly what Jesus understood. Jesus did not operate the way crowd operated; he consistently moved toward the people society had already named and dismissed Nowhere is this clearer than at a well in Samaria There was a woman there, and the crowd already knew about her; they knew about her five husbands. They knew about her living with a man who wasn't hers. (John 4:7-26) She also knew what they thought she had internalized every word, every look. She felt it when she chose to come to the well at noon, alone in the heat, to avoid others. But then came Jesus. He knew her too. He knew everything about her, and yet when he opened his mouth, there was no verdict No condemnation No wall Just the quiet, complete experience of being fully seen and somehow still welcomed. Still wanted. Still called.
The woman at the well didn't run back to that city because Jesus knew her past. She ran back because being known by him felt nothing like what she expected knowing to feel like. That encounter was her transformation
Let me tell you, I understand something about that woman, because I know what it feels like for the crowd to switch up on you, to change their language about you. I know what it feels like when the names get ugly, when they get heavy, when they feel like the loudest words in your head. I know what it feels like to have those words cause you not to get up, or shower, or eat, or want to even exist
But I say to you, beloved: there is some good news God wants us to carry within us and share with the world. The same knowing that freed that woman at the well God has always had for you. Before the world got to name you; before the church got to name you; before your family, your community, or your country got to name you, God already knew you.
And each time you question why, each time the weight of their naming gets heavy, God answers. I knew you would be Black. I knew you would be white. I knew you would be Asian. I knew you would be Hispanic. I knew you would be gay. I knew you would be trans. I knew you would be bisexual, pansexual, asexual. God is saying: I knew you would be everything you are, and I created you that way for my good.
So don't go looking for man's approval for what God has already ordained as holy, sacred, and most importantly, enough. Don't go seeking man's understanding of what God has already named. The crowd named Elphaba Wicked. The crowd named that woman at the well Shameful. The crowd named me Deception. But before the crowd ever opened their mouths, God had already spoken.
And beloved — can’t nobody change that.
Madison McClendon She/Her
Former Board Member
My name is Madison, she/her, and I've been involved with AWAB since being recruited to the board in 2015 by Davi Weasley. I'm grateful to have stayed connected with the organization, and this year I had the opportunity to have gender-affirming surgery, colloquially called "bottom surgery." Before the surgery, I was in a deeply liminal space, and produced a great deal of poetry, reflection, writing, and the piece I've shared here is the most refined of those productions -- a braid of many strands, three in one, one in three. Try reading each "line indent" as its own separate poem (both within and across poems!).
What I'd want the world to know about trans people is this: we are here, prepared to hand you a gift, the gift of our whole selves. We are stronger when we are happy; we are happier when we are free. If you support us, if you cherish us, if you love us enough to help us unlock ourselves wholly, we are prepared to offer back nothing less than the unadulterated power of our whole, uninhibited selves, as gift to you and to the whole world.
Triduum Mass On the Occasion of aVaginoplasty
Meet Arley Carlile They/He Baptist Church of the Covenant
For their safety, Arley has chosen not to share a personal image Instead, they have chosen to be represented through their work: a Celtic Cross Quilt (28 x 38”) that they designed and created.
I am Arley Carlile. My pronouns are they/he. I’m a member of Baptist Church of the Covenant in Birmingham, Alabama, which is an AWAB church. My pastor, Rev. Erica Cooper, encouraged me to submit something to Viewed & Voiced this year and reminded me that another member of our church submitted something last year (may she rest in peace). And a friend recently encouraged me to use my voice even when it’s shaky. When the Muse sends multiple messages, one must listen. At first, I didn’t think I had anything uplifting to share in this publication. But once the wheels got to turning, I found myself on a thought-provoking journey I’m glad I took.
If I could say something to the whole world it would be this: Cultures and religions and philosophies around the world have some version of the Golden Rule, of behaving toward others as you would have them behave toward you. This guiding principle is a means toward peace among people and our world. This means of living into the peace we hunger for requires participation from each of us, individually and as communities. What is your first or next step?
Resurrection:
Instructions for When You Hit Bottom, Again.
Look up.
Lift your face from the dark, thick mud
Roll over onto your back And look up. And rest.
Now, Take in the view. Don’t get up too soon.
Use your eyes. Follow the receding lines of the pit’s walls
All the way up Where you’ll see A speck of Light.
Now, Orient yourself. There’s nowhere to go but up.
Now,
Hold yourself loosely, kindly, Allow yourself to be drawn up by the Light.
Let go of your need to fight. Just rise.
Open your tender heart to the Light, And rise.
Now, remember, As you go, Let it sink in, You can always, always Rise again.
Sometimes? Never? Maybe?
Arley Carlile
They/He
Baptist Church of the Covenant
I have always been confused and angered by a particular question.
To my face: “Are you a boy or a girl?”
Within my hearing: “Is that a boy or a girl?”
Occasionally, the question was of curiosity asked by a very small child learning to put things in the categories society assigns them. But this didn’t lessen the hurt.
Mostly, the question was one of derision, of disgust, no matter the age of the person asking.
When I was asked this as a child, I would pause before answering “correctly,” if I answered at all. In that pause, I would wonder why the other children couldn’t see me. Why I didn’t have an answer, not a real answer.
Boy? Girl? Both? Neither? Sometimes? Never? Maybe?
No matter my age and level of understanding, I knew I was damned no matter my answer Damned to ridicule by others. Damned to self-betrayal. Damned to hell.
I’ve been through all the mental gymnastics many queer Christians go through. Spending most of my preteen, teen, and early adulthood praying nightly that God would let me die in my sleep. Asking the religious questions, such as “Well, if God doesn’t make mistakes” and “God knit me together in my mother’s womb,” then ?
And I’ve passed into barely believing in God. Definitely defining God differently than what I was raised to believe.
Over 20 years ago someone recommended Baptist Church of the Covenant. There I’ve found believers who are OK with questions Believers who disagree they are Baptist after all and yet worship together. Believers who have slowly transitioned their corporate beliefs about LGBTQIA+ inclusion. Just as I continue to slowly transition my beliefs about myself and God.
Through the years, I’ve watched this congregation. I’ve listened to them. Honestly, it hasn’t all been good Still isn’t But
Looking down from my balcony seat, I’ve seen a gay couple sitting on a pew below, one with his hand lovingly placed on the other’s leg. I’ve watched as a child turned teen read Scripture from the pulpit with more and more confidence as he progressed through pronouns and hair styles and grew taller. I’ve joined my heart in prayer to beautiful prayers voiced by a beautiful trans woman And I have found a home in the midst of a small Sunday School class that loves me no matter how I show up.
Am I a boy or a girl?
Yes. No. Both. Neither. Sometimes. Never. Maybe.
Am I loveable and loved? Absolutely. And the people of Baptist Church of the Covenant have helped me learn and experience the answer to that question.
name written in lower case :) t, MDiv student, musician, artist, programmer, and teacher. anti-profit prophet. i make music as "weeping witch" on streaming services and bandcamp: https://weepingwitch.bandcamp.com/ my message: the world as we know it is ending, but another world is possible. i feel God most in the knowledge that it doesn' have to be like this, and in the hope that we can create a more just and loving way of life. abolish all prisons and borders, dream beyond capitalism. the seas are rising, are we?
Enter the Interactive Experience Here
the reflection / artist statement:
Over a series of different physical engagements and entanglements between his past and future family members, i trace Jacob’s heritage through cycles of grasping, of striking, of wrestling, of deception, and of creation This is a story about hands, about hips, about mouths, and about guts. Through repeated phrases, i mimic the way the text uses echoed stories and paired dreams to explore the same question through different perspectives and contexts. i highlight the specifically visceral and erotic nature of the stories and the occasionally blurred boundaries between violence and sexuality, tracing the way that conflict and desire intermingle in familial relations throughout the book of Genesis
The narrative is framed by Jacob’s repeated anxiety about reuniting with Esau, and traces the history of yearning, competition, and violence between family members. In an act of critical fabulation, i explore the layers of trauma and regret and desire that Jacob might be processing in his struggle with God (and himself) as he waits to see whether Esau will accept his apologies Their final embrace is left unillustrated, allowing whichever afterimages of the previous tussles seem most relevant to linger in your mind.
This is technically a “kinetic” novel - a specific type of visual novel that has no branching paths, where the reader interacts with the story solely by advancing it. The project itself is kinetic, about movement and energy, reaching and grasping and striking and falling As Jacob continuously reaches out, so too does the reader continuously click or press a button to advance the story, becoming physically involved in the narrative. You control the rate of the story, but not the direction. You can tap through in a hurry, or linger in a scene and appreciate the artwork, but the end result will be the same. There are occasionally two options to choose between, but your choices don’t matter Something about free will or destiny or fate or Oedipus Rex or whatever God said to Cain in Genesis 4:7
The button to advance swells with blood as you hover over it, eager for your touch Once you begin, the colors shift to highlight the dreamlike (or possibly even entheogenic) nature of Jacob’s night-wrestle, hovering around a neutral color-scheme for a few seconds before sliding through all the possible hues in a psychedelic rush. The same way Julia Watts Belser explores disability dance and embodied ethics as a way to relate to Biblical study, i wanted this semi-interactive narrative Experience to encourage a more physical and embodied way of relating to the text
The music is something i recorded last year for an album i am currently working on. The song itself is a palindrome, or a chiasm – it has two equal and mirrored parts. The chords initially follow a continuous loop that creates a sense of perpetual downward motion, falling or sliding towards something inevitable, before rising back up into the heavens in the second half of the song The droning, continuous rise and fall of guitar and organ/synthesizer with interspersed percussion is meant to build constant tension and propel you forward through the story, with the short and choppy sentences encouraging you to move more quickly when the action feels more intense.
As you progress through each scene, the displayed scriptural text begins to deteriorate, with each letter and number regressing and reverting to the letter “a,” towards birth, towards genesis The text becomes literally “deconstructed” and increasingly unrecognizable the longer you spend in each scene, shifting from words towards pure sound. The resulting string of vowels is a raw vocalization, a baby’s cry, a shout of anger, or a moan of ecstacy. Finding art was a lot of fun because the nice thing about the Bible is that people really have been making art about this shit for literally forever. i can pick any verse and some dude in the 1600s did a painting specifically of that scene i did struggle a little bit finding good art of Leah and Jacob specifically, since most of it was either of Jacob and Rachel, or the whole family, so i did take a few more liberties in that section. The mixture of fonts, music, art styles, and the digital format are meant to evoke contrasting eras, as the narrative moves back and forth across time in a text that has so many layers of history. i wanted the images to be fleshy, surreal, and dreamlike, and am quite delighted how the different paintings and drawings look through the wash of hues The juxtaposition of the classical depiction of well-muscled men wrestling with the sexual nature of the text is meant to highlight the potentially homoerotic nature of both the text and the paintings themselves.
i wrote all of the code myself, with no external plugins or libraries or frameworks just vanilla javascript, because i’m an insane woman and this is what i do for fun :) it should work on a phone or a laptop or whatever enjoy!
I saw God today, pushing his bike through the church parking lot. I saw God today and he asked me if i could help him out again, so i gave him $20, and he knows that i know that he might spend the money on drugs, but who am i to question God's decisions (I've read the book of Job). I talked with God about getting him into a treatment program, about trying to keep his bike safe at the church while he's in whatever institution he ends up being sent to. God told me about his friends, about their struggles, about how he's trying to help them, but how it’s so hard watching people make bad decisions God told me how his friend is getting abused by her boyfriend, that he's threatened to kick the guy's ass but he's still treating her like shit. God told me about his friend who is trying to quit drinking (there's not too many of those anymore, he muses, alcoholics. most people do drugs now.), how he's trying to help him get his life on track. God asks me how I'm doing, and thanks me for listening. I shake hands with God, feeling the rough cracks in his dry skin, and he heads off. We'll chat again next Sunday.
I wrote the poem in 2024 about my friend Joey, a disabled man who lived on the streets. Joey was always supportive of my interest in ministry as a queer trans woman, and supported me through the loss of several trans friends He passed away this past January from cancer, and I was able to organize a memorial service for him at my church, the place he most often called “home.” While I have participated in memorial services before, this was my first time designing and leading such a service, and I wanted the scripture readings and music choices to reflect the understanding of God that Joey shared with me. I read this poem as part of the service - my eulogy/message begins at around 33:50 in the video linked below, and lasts until 48:40.
"imago
dei adamah"
This is a collage I made inspired by the dual realities of humans being made in the image of God ("imago dei"), and also being made from dirt and dust. In Genesis, the root of the name "Adam" comes from the Hebrew word "adamah," meaning dirt or soil. If we are but dust and to dust we shall return, is God not also of the dust? By piecing together the colors and textures of dirt, water, plant, and sky, I wanted to create an alternative kind of self-portrait that shows all life as growing and emanating from this divine earthy creation. It is a portrait of nature, it is a portrait of God, and it is also still a portrait of us.
In Memoriam
Last year, as Trans Day of Visibility approached, I realized AWAB had not planned a way to honor the day. We often show up for Trans Day of Remembrance, but sometimes overlook its spring sibling.
So I asked: what better way to celebrate Trans Day of Visibility than to actually make our genderdiverse siblings visible? From that moment, Viewed & Voiced was born.
In four weeks, the first edition came together. I did not know how it would turn out—I just knew I wanted to do something meaningful. Nine incredible individuals contributed. One of them was Elaine.
When I asked for headshots, Elaine reached out with hesitation. She preferred not to include her photo, but sent one anyway. Understanding the weight behind that, I offered a simple deal: let me design the page with the photo, and if she was not comfortable, we would remove it. No pressure.
She agreed. A week later, I sent her the draft. She responded:
“I am satisfied with my submission, yes, even the picture.”
My heart was full. My eyes swelled. I had one goal: to make my siblings feel seen. In that moment, I knew—Mission Accomplished.
After reviewing a second draft, Elaine wrote again:
“I did review both versions of the publication and thank you for telling our stories. The submissions are thoughtful and heartfelt. While many of us wanted only to live our or lives quietly, many of us found ourselves representing, as best we could, our community. I have just wanted to do so with dignity. I personally would not wish being transgender on my worst enemy but have tried to be the lady God made. My parents have been gone many years. I regret that we never had "the" conversation. Today, I try to be the person of whom they would be proud. I know I will see them again someday, and I just want them to know me by my heart, a heart that has not changed.”
A few months ago, Elaine gained her wings. If I could write her one more email, it would say:
“I hope your parents finally get a chance to meet the wonderful lady that you are.”
For all the Elaines out there, this publication is for you.
James Rice III AWAB’s Communications Coordinator
In celebration of Elaine’s legacy, her original contribution is published on the next page.
Reflections of a Transgender Woman on her Experience at Baptist Church of the Covenant
Elaine Stephens she/her/hers
Where all are welcomed.
Kindness, love, affirmation, acceptance You’re made in God’s image. There’s room at the table. Love your neighbor....no exceptions.
“We love you. ”
“We are glad you are here."
“What can we do to make other transgender people feel welcome?
Dead to my siblings and totally rejected by my children and grandchildren, my family of faith became my chosen family and lifted me up when I was down.
“We miss you when you ’ re not in your regular seat.”
“I knew you would not be there today, but I looked for you where you aways sit.”
“If other transgender individuals come to our church, how should we treat them to make them feel welcome?”
Asked to take part in the worship service many times over the years.
Asked to take a leadership role and serve on the Staff Committee.
For an AWAB service was asked to read the story of Phillip and the Ethiopian Eunuch.... then asked to help serve communion
“I appreciate you because you have helped me accept my transgender cousin.”
“Can we talk sometime? I have a transgender relative, and I am not accepting it well.”
When the President signed the 1st executive order, my pastor texted....” Love you, Mama! Holding you in the light this week.”
Meet
Starchild/Morgan Guyton They/Them
Williamsburg Baptist Church
m) and I am a poet, songwriter, somatic psychotherapist, and deacon at Williamsburg Baptist Church. I have five music albums available on all the streaming platforms: Bloom (2021), Dolly for President (2023), Butterfly (2025), Rise up and shake the earth (2025), and Burning Bush (2026). I believe that taking up your cross to follow Jesus means being your full authentic self no matter what the cost.
I made a song called Space Unicorn on my new album Burning Bush that describes my origin story as a genderqueer artist.
If the Spotify player is not working, above, click the image of the Burning Bush below to be taken to the track
Meet Sol Rizzato
Church (Disciples of Christ)
I’m Sol, I am transmasculine and genderqueer, and my pronouns are they/them or he/him. I am the Director of Worship and the Arts and Organist at Washington Avenue Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Elyria, Ohio, USA, which is an AWAB member congregation (as of this year!) I am also a full-time pipe organ builder and maintenance tech.
To be out and trans is to open oneself to the world, the entire world. Upon starting graduate school, I found a teacher who saw me for who I was, a mentor that saw my transness not as a liability, but a quality to be embraced. I was connected to other trans organists and church musicians and together, we have begun to build a network of strength and support. We vowed to be visible, to show others in our field (and other fields too), that it is possible to be trans and successful in a career that often encourages us to hide.
One thing I love about being an organist, especially in a church, is that the pipe organ needs to breathe. It physically needs air to operate and sing, just like people. Because of this, I get the chance to breathe with and support a congregation to fuller song. I am beyond fortunate to be in a supportive congregation and amongst a church family that has become my chosen family. Outside of Washington Avenue, often, the pipe organs I build, play, tune, and maintain exist in spaces where myself and my trans siblings are not welcome. However, erasure doesn’t stand a chance when a mark of trans artistry consists of 22,000 pounds of wood and metal, built for song, and designed to last for centuries.
“breathe."
"Air, something so seemingly ordinary, can be a source of both grounding and strength. I am an artist– a pipe organ builder by day, and organist, and musician by night and weekend. Both sides of my career help me pause amidst the chaos of everyday life. Through the act of creating something, bending metal and harnessing air, I can continue to show strength and invite others to breathe, too. It can be easy to feel invisible. A lot of times, the instrument I build and play exists in spaces where I am not welcome. However, my art's sheer existence is my act of resistance. "breathe," is my everyday story from the perspective of the ordinary cell phone camera."
If the YouTube player above is not working Please CLICK HERE to listen to the track
Meet April or Sìyuè they/them it/its
Williamsburg Baptist Church
Hi, my name is April, or Si Yuè. My pronouns are they/them and it/its, and I’m transfeminine.
I’m connected to AWAB through Williamsburg Baptist Church, which has been a deeply affirming space for me. It’s a rare kind of community one that has welcomed me fully, not just as a trans person, but also as a religious nonmessianic Jew. That intersection matters a lot to me, and it’s part of why I submitted my poem, Psalm of Mercy. I wanted to offer something that reflects trans Jewish experience, especially in interfaith queer spaces where we’re still so underrepresented.
If I had a microphone and the whole world could hear me, I think I’d keep it simple. I would say that none of us arrived here untouched. Some of us learned very early how to make ourselves smaller, quieter, more acceptable. Some of us learned how to survive rooms that were never meant to hold us gently. And yet, we are still here, still finding each other, still building something softer out of what we were given.
I don’t think we talk enough about how quiet that kind of resilience can be. How it looks like laughter in the right company, or the first time you say your name out loud and it feels like yours. How it looks like choosing to stay. So my message is this: “if you are listening and you feel like you’re the only one carrying what you carry, you’re not. Even when it feels distant, even when it feels impossible, there are people who will recognize you; not the version you had to be, but the version you are becoming. And we are finding each other every day.”
A Psalm of Mercy
The Mighty One, She who spoke the dawn into being, calls from the rising of the sun to its setting.
From the hills wrapped in morning mist to the trembling edge of the sea at night, Her voice is fire and also lullaby.
She is not hungry for our offerings, nor does She thirst for the blood of bulls. Every wild sparrow is already Hers, every cedar bending in the wind, every secret thought carried in a fragile heart.
“Do you think I fashioned you in error?” She asks.
“Did I weave your spirit carelessly in the dark?”
She who spun galaxies like wool also stitched your longing, your tenderness, your difference bright as a thread of gold.
Call upon Her in the day of trouble; She will answer with fierce compassion. For Her mercy is wider than the ocean ’ s mouth, and no exile is too far for Her arms
A Psalm of Mercy
She does not measure love in narrow lines.
She does not recoil from what She has made. Those cast aside by fearful tongues find in Her a dwelling place.
The Holy One delights in truth in the inward being, and truth is not sameness. She gathers the outcast with steady hands and crowns them with belonging.
Offer to Her a song of gratitude, a heart unhidden and unashamed.
For She judges not by rumor or custom but by the courage to love and be.
From Zion to every scattered corner, Her mercy burns brighter than sacrifice.
Blessed are all who trust in Her— for She is righteous, and Her compassion endures forever.
We are grateful for this contributor’s offering to Viewed and Voiced. Due to production timing, their bio and headshot were not received prior to publication. They will be added to the interactive version of this publication as soon as they become available.
Are You there God? It’s Me Jordan
Hey God, it’s me, Jordan. You might remember me from that time You knit me together in my mother’s womb and that’s what I wanted to talk to You about, actually. See, I’m wondering if You made a mistake when You made all. . . this. Maybe dropped a stitch, or knit when You were supposed to purl, or double crocheted when the instructions called for single crochet. Though of course I guess, You made the instructions, and the needles, and the yarn. . . But my point God is that Your WordYou remember the Word, right? - the one You gave us on mountaintops and in whale’s bellies, in overfull inns and on dark seas - that Word? Well, it has passed needle and thread through the throats of Your faithful for mile after mile, stitch after stitch. And they have needles too, You know. They slipstitch and seam rip and knit where they should definitely purl and my point is, to an untrained eye like mine and God, You know I am untrained, it’s hard to tell where Your works end and theirs begin. So I thought I would go straight to the source, like You encouraged us to, and ask: wool or polyester? I’m just kidding, God, I know You like a blend. I crochet, too, and the callused knobs of my thumb and forefinger are where I feel especially made in Your image. You know it was my mother, who taught me to crochet. And that does bring me to my real question actually, God. You, who made dusk and dawn, You who made marshland and mountaintop, You who made violet and platypus and wonder and melancholy, You, God of all the nameless in-betweens, You, God of all the ever-expansive all-of-the-aboves, God - did You make me too?
God Takes a Vanilla Latte
With oat milk, just like me
I wonder if the barista spelled His name right and which one He gave
Or if they knew Him by sight alone - maybe He’s a regular
I’m glad He agreed to meet me here, little me with chapped lips and picked cuticles gripped tight around my cooling cup
I try to see myself as He must over the rim of His own drink -
salt and pepper, lines and curves crooked glasses, wearing this body
like a jacket that’s two sizes too small
“I remember, you know,” He says, “When I first knit you together
“You were just Star Stuff in my hands, then, and I saw every freckle and black-to-gray hair
“and I turned you like a kaleidoscope and saw all the you there could ever be
“and I won’t tell you that your pain had meaning or the grand scheme in your bent back”
God takes a sip,
“but I will say every stitch of you was on purpose.”
Meet Joel Dugan He/Him
First Baptist, Pottstown, PA
I am Joel Thomas Dugan, from First Baptist, Pottstown, PA, a lover of God, a lover of nature, and a lover of all things Wawa. I am a partner, a parent, a sibling, and a quarry weighmaster. I am a reluctant pet owner, and I waste way too much time playing games on my phone. I love books & words. I believe there is no such thing as a bad pun. I draw and paint because it's cheaper than therapy. ...and, oh yeah, I'm the first known trans man to be licensed as a lay pastor in the American Baptist Denomination. That's pretty cool. So, there you have me.
What I would tell the world is this... we're just people. We, your neighbors, are found in every city, state & country.
In the wake of the plethora of anti trans legislation we are dealing with, it seems like we are drowning in it. This painting has already taken many forms and may still take more. It contains a trans Pride flag sinking in a sea of anti-trans legislation that has been passed in the past couple of years.
Since I use drawing and painting as a form of therapy, I usually stick to what makes me feel closer to God. I feel closest to them in nature, so what will follow are a few pictures from nature.
Meet
Lorileah Monet (Gulzow)
She/Her
First Baptist Denver
Hi, I am honored to be asked to contribute to AWAB again this year. I am 70 years old in people years. 15 in Transgender years. But as we all know, I knew I was transgender since 4 (well we didn’t call it that then). With the help and guidance of many other transgender friends at the Black Crown, I went through the whole process of well... Part time…well maybe no surgery…well maybe just vaginoplasty and then breasts. But now I am me.
The climate in today’s US has made me worried for those following. Being old, I have made it my mission to educate the people who are calling for our demise. And to fight to protect the young kids who are learning who they are now. That I believe is what needs to be done. I lived through the 50’s and 60’s and how we had been heading towards a world where all people are equal and all people deserve respect
LoriLeah is a published Academic author, playwright, novelist, musician. She is a veteran of the Vietnam era and a veterinarian
“The Least”
The king will reply, “truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least you did for me This verse is repeated many times throughout the year. What you did for the least. We use it to get money We use it to get volunteers We use it to show charity
Recently this nation has used the Bible to claim that the country is a “Christian” founded land.That the national religion is “Christianity”. Yet we all know that the separation of church and state was paramount in the writing of the Constitution. While the “founding fathers” may have been associated with Christianity is some way, few held Christianity as their religion They held freedom and life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness in higher regard. We may be able to say that the tenets were Christian in ethic, but the practice wasn’t .
This nation has never been Christian. It has never been great. From the beginning, we showed the most UN Christian behaviors. Even those who came here for religious freedom were cruel and quickly resorted to the control they had left Massacring natives and peoples of other nations. Slavery, while trying to rectify it with biblical verses. Keeping women subservient. Promoting the rich over the needy. Color of skin didn’t matter either. This country was built on the backs of those who were repressed. And, consistent with human nature, when the oppressed gained money, they didn’t learn but reverted to the same actions.
We are going through another wave of that now. 170 years ago, we banished slavery. And yet it never went away. The powerful held down the ex slaves with rules and laws. Redlining and Jim Crow and education. We boasted how righteous we were after defeating fascism. Yet maintaining a hierarchy based on gender, color, religion and ancestry. During the 1960’s there were glimmers of hope. Equal Rights “laws”. People of color gained more freedoms and yet were still not free Women gained rights, and yet still weren’t equal. And the LGBTQ community came out of the closet.
Parts of that community gained more and faster. On the backs of others in the community. We quelled the “Gay Plague” with the Lesbians nursing and caring. We made money with the Transgender community doing fund raisers. The right to work, the right to marry, the right to adopt children All supported by the whole alphabet community., Gone were the days of needing bars for your specific lifestyle or having to hide your life so you “fit in” with your coworkers or bosses. Gone was the fear that tomorrow you would be out of a job because you were outed. We outed ourselves. And for a brief time, we were more complacent. We felt safe. Well. safer. We assimilated. Joined the PTA and the racquet club. We thought that we were accepted. Some, as in the past, started to marginalize those who helped lift them up The alphabet grew. Because we wanted everyone to believe that we were more civilized.
But there is human nature. When you get comfortable, you start looking for others you can feel better than Money was easy Homes and schools and churches and restaurants welcomed you. The LGBT community wasn’t the top of the hierarchy, but we were rising. The ones with more power, however, saw the alphabet community growing. They became afraid. It wasn’t a new story. They had done it before. And the reaction was the same. Villainize someone. A smaller, weaker, less influential group.
The transgender people weren’t a sexuality They are ALL sexualities So you cannot justify that part. They weren’t just transmen or transwomen. So you can’t hate that. The right and powerful though needed to repress the LGBTQi. Because if you build hate from within, you won’t notice the hate directed at you.
And that’s where we are. The least. We feel better when we believe we have more rights than others And when we believe that those rights are finite, we fear that we, too, will become least. Then we protect ourselves by trying to make the hierarchy think we ae supporting them and thus, one of them.
That is not how hierarchies work. Hierarchy is based on inequality.
What you do to the least will eventually come back to you as you become the least As they say slippery slope. Delete the transpeople. That leaves a void for new hate. Rights and privileges that you have suddenly become targets. Marriage. Children. First, specific jobs like teaching or child care or healthcare are placed out of your reach. By innuendos or quotes from a book written by patriarchs to maintain the patriarchy. And using phrases or verses out of context or mistranslated to marginalize you
Phrases like “normal”. Or not biological. Or against humanity or society. Mental illness.
“GOD said”. “Jesus said” “The president said”
The least of you “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for the least of these brothers or sisters, you did for me”. Remember that when you become “the least.” And you will.
We offer our heartfelt thanks to these ten tenacious creators who gave their time, talent, and truth to this publication. Your voices are sacred. Your offerings are powerful. You remind us what it means to be Viewed and Voiced.
AprilorSìyuè
ArleyCarlile
JoelDugan
JonathanEvans
