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kylegray20's review against another edition
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
inspiring
sad
medium-paced
3.5
literary_ya's review
adventurous
challenging
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.75
You know a book is good when you feel called the fuck out at the very beginning. It opened my eyes immensely. Would recommend.
potwato's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
3.5
daumari's review against another edition
4.0
This is an important read, although not without its flaws. I feel some geographic parallels to Samantha Allen, an ex-mormon who did her undergrad at BYU and grad work at Emory in Atlanta (I grew up in eastern Idaho which is heavily LDS and did my undergrad in South Carolina), so I understand a bit where her perspectives growing up may have come from. Part exploration of conservative-state queer communities, part autobiography (she visits places she's lived/places important to friends and allies in the community), Allen spends the summer of 2017 criss-crossing the interior of the country, against a backdrop of presidential tweets banning trans servicepeople and the Charlottesville riots. The postscript is already dated- the judge's block on the military ban has already been reversed by now, in 2019. The opening chapter in Provo, Utah is the strongest, I feel, as it not only goes into the baby!trans feels but also an examination of the crossroads queer LDS members find themselves at at the moment, and how tumultuous a change attitudes have taken in the last ten years. I recall in 2009 attempts to start a GSA at my high school failed, but this year, a decade later, my hometown had the largest pride parade they've had at ~2,000 people participating.
My problem with this book is how often Allen pooh-poohs the "coastal elite" queer strongholds of San Francisco and NYC as expensive, complacent places where there's so much choice segregation shakes out again- that while in the Castro you might have bars for specific, individual subcultures, a mid-size metro in Mississippi just has one place for everyone to converge in one happy community. A theme that goes on is that in oppressive places, you find opportunities for connection, especially resisting together, and that IS true- red state LGBTQ+ communities are resilient in the face of hostile state governments trying to deny their existence- but I don't think it's necessary to punch out at the historic early battlegrounds of LGBTQ+ rights. I get it, I really do (when I mention I'm from Idaho, I've seen the question marks that pop up on faces because I'm not a white Mormon potato farmer), but that did give me pause. To her credit, Allen does note that as much as she feels comfortable in some of these places, she still carries white privilege and that black trans women, the most vulnerable community, might feel less safe. Pure speculation, but I'm guessing some of the hangups about LA/SF/DC/NYC come from growing up in a conservative LDS environment and even though she's shed both those identities, it takes some self-reflection to get rid of everything.
I would recommend to: red state readers (especially those in the LDS or evangelical communities because narratives about people might be more persuasive than stats), coastal people who have never been to the interior of the country
My problem with this book is how often Allen pooh-poohs the "coastal elite" queer strongholds of San Francisco and NYC as expensive, complacent places where there's so much choice segregation shakes out again- that while in the Castro you might have bars for specific, individual subcultures, a mid-size metro in Mississippi just has one place for everyone to converge in one happy community. A theme that goes on is that in oppressive places, you find opportunities for connection, especially resisting together, and that IS true- red state LGBTQ+ communities are resilient in the face of hostile state governments trying to deny their existence- but I don't think it's necessary to punch out at the historic early battlegrounds of LGBTQ+ rights. I get it, I really do (when I mention I'm from Idaho, I've seen the question marks that pop up on faces because I'm not a white Mormon potato farmer), but that did give me pause. To her credit, Allen does note that as much as she feels comfortable in some of these places, she still carries white privilege and that black trans women, the most vulnerable community, might feel less safe. Pure speculation, but I'm guessing some of the hangups about LA/SF/DC/NYC come from growing up in a conservative LDS environment and even though she's shed both those identities, it takes some self-reflection to get rid of everything.
I would recommend to: red state readers (especially those in the LDS or evangelical communities because narratives about people might be more persuasive than stats), coastal people who have never been to the interior of the country