It Really Does Get Better
by: Logan Melo
These past weeks have felt like a dream. I have absolutely loved interning with the Congressional LGBTQ+ Equality Caucus and I genuinely look forward to logging into my computer every single day. The team that oversees the Caucus (shout out to Shawn & Laura!) treats me like an equal and I am very appreciative of the tasks they have entrusted me with. I do not feel like “just an intern,” I feel as if I matter and that the work I am doing truly matters as well.
I recently helped compile a list of all of the transgender deaths in the United States in 2021 to date, along with the location that it occurred in, and the member of congress that represents that district. The purpose of this list is so representatives can hear about the transgender people who have been lost in their district and (hopefully) work to ensure that my people stop dying on their streets. I hope to achieve at least some justice for my transgender siblings and, at the very least, ensure that their names are not forgotten. This task is as painful and grim as it sounds but it is important and I am proud of myself for completing it.
I am also very proud of myself for how far that I have come in life, which is something that I never thought I would be able to say. Like most young queer kids, I didn’t think that I would make it this far in life and honestly did not believe that I would live long enough to see myself turn 21 and graduate college. Growing up in my uber-conservative Latino immigrant family and figuring out that I was transgender was hard; getting the courage to openly be myself and go through with my transition despite familial rejection was one of the hardest things that I have ever done. But…I did it! And I am still here standing loud, proud, and surrounded by love.
For the first time in my life, I feel prepared for what the future holds for me. In about a month, I am moving into an apartment four hours away from home and beginning a graduate program at the University of Vermont. I am filled with nothing but excitement for what the future holds and I truly feel ready for this next stage in my life. Whenever those familiar feelings of self-doubt start to develop, I remind myself that I have made it this far and that I no longer have anything to prove to anyone except myself. It really does get better and I am sooooo glad that I stuck around to see it through. I am finally comfortable within my own skin and happy with where life seems to be taking me. To all my transgender siblings out there, please consider sticking around with me. The world needs our shine and I promise that one day we will be able to truly change things for the better.
Anomalies and How to Embrace Them
by: Han Le
I spent the first month of my summer sitting on fire. The start date for my expected internship placement with a congressional member was far overdue, yet little information came my way. I refreshed, refreshed, refreshed my mailbox every hour only to be left even more anxious than before. Little did I know it was a blessing in disguise.
My summer is not going quite as I predicted earlier this year. Being on the opposite coast, spending the first half of the training sessions embarrassed every time I had to say “I don’t have a placement yet,” not being able to relate to any of the heartwarming hill experiences shared and celebrated by my peers – I found myself quite overwhelmed at times. It wasn’t until I found out I was going to be working with Center for American Progress did my old anxieties subside and new anxieties kicked in.
I realized I lacked expertise and experience compared to everyone else in my office. Impostor syndrome is not a novel topic to explore – we have discussed it in our weekly meeting time and time again: you have to put things into perspective, you must realize your worth, etc. I was equal parts inspired as I was intimidated by the volume and quality of the work being done by the team. I had so many doubts that sounded far too silly for me to vocalize, even to myself.
Yet I vocalized them anyways. During a particular check-in session with my supervisor, I found myself unable to contain feelings of unworthiness directed at myself – I didn’t word it quite like this, but enough that I got my point across. I let it be known that I was going to make mistakes, that I would have lots and lots of room to learn and grow, but nonetheless, I would persist. It was cathartic, and comforting, and relieving, just being able to share these constant worries of mine.
It’s a little strange how such a small act – asking for help and understanding – gave me such comfort and courage going forward. I realized no one was expecting me to be some brilliant genius with five years of policy experience. I was there to learn and they were going to teach me what I needed to learn. And so, I began approaching my work with anxious precaution but also an understanding that I could always reach out for help, no matter how mundane the problem. From how to write or what to write or who to contact, I no longer feel a dreadful invisible weight hanging over me every time I need to get clarification on any issue.
