The second that it was announced, there suddenly was a churchy festival claiming that they were THE freedom event of the day. And that THEY were the only one that was an event of freedom and love.

I reported some vile posts on Facebook claiming some nasty shit on the pride event. They had to amp up security due to threats. Signs guiding people to the event were stolen.

I grew up with active shooter drills. Lockdowns. My mind was racing with every possible outcome. How I would escape if needed. Fear and worry beating through my heart, but the optimism rang just as loud.

I got to the event today. And-

It was... wonderful.

They had resource booths. Church booths. Political booths. Book booths. Accessibility to all. Art vendors. Food vendors. Kids games. Breastfeeding tents. Entertainment. Independent vendors. Food vendors. First aid. Bubbles. Storytime. Pride flags. Pizza. Youth clubs. Yoga.

Hope.

Aside from the heat... It was magical. It felt like a little slice of hope and heart in the middle of a sea of red.

In the midst of the darkness - there is a light.

People were so kind. I got a lot of compliments. I felt safe. I felt like I could dance in the sunshine and others would feel safe enough to join.

Gay marriage was legalized nationwide when I was in high school. I knew people who got grounded or disowned for coming out. I knew some vile things thrown around. We didn't have pride here because it wasn't safe. We just held close to the people we knew who were safe.

I know people who had a change of heart and mind. Those who have opened their homes. Who carry little rainbows on their sleeves. Those who hold the rainbow flag after years of snapping hatred. Forgiveness and learning. Little acts of progress only help to build change. Those who challenge the status quo. Those little acts of defiance.

There is hope for rural communities. Please don't write us off and out of pride.

There is strength. There is progress. There is courage. There is hope and there is light for communities like mine. It takes little acts of defiance. It takes courage.

There is hope for us in rural towns. God, there is light.

I thought this year the church event wouldn't pop up again, but it did. (Despite barely any advertising the event. They decided that the best day to put up fliers to advertise was YESTERDAY for an event TODAY.) Same time as last year - same time as pride. This group had decided to wait until pride announced their date for the church group to announce their date. Second year in a row they did this. Pride announced their date in January and started advertising then. The church group announced their event the following week, in early February. They started advertising earlier this week. In June.

The people putting on the church event came into my work yesterday and asked to put up a flier. We took one, to be civil. We put community event fliers up all the time. They then asked us to sign another piece of paper (basically saying that we support their group and their event). Which, idk it felt like the church group felt insecure in their event. (This is the first time we were asked to do something like this. Every other flier we get doesn't come with strings attached.) My coworker told them that we were supporting another event that day and they left without our small business on their list. We put their flier in an alternate location (trash) after they'd asked us to sign that sheet.

This year I didn't see any vile things posted on Facebook (unless I happened to block all the accounts I saw last year posting that garbage). Last year someone/a group of people stole the signs leading to pride - this year I saw the signs as I got there and as I left. Streamers and balloons still attached. Last year an out-of-state hate group tried to send our pride event threats to get us to stop. We just added security and kept on. This year? Not a threat.

Last year I went as an ally with buttons on my bag. This year I stuck my mini ace and bi flags in the side pocket of my bag and covered my bag and shortalls with buttons. I've identified as bi/ace for a while, but today was the first day I wore those colors on my sleeve.

We're still adapting pride to make it more accessible than last. We're still signing people up to vote. Church booths were handing out free goodies and popsicles. One of them handed out temporary tattoos.

Last year we signed a rainbow flag. This year we signed a trans flag with the letters PROTECT TRANS YOUTH sewn into the middle three stripes.

I heard someone introducing her wife to someone they'd just met. I saw some kids in tutus and crowns racing through an inflatable obstacle course as it started to rain, giggling as they slid out the other end. There was a booth for a newly formed group for trans individuals in my part of the state (most of this area is flooded in red counties).

There was someone in a fursuit, another in a Peach cosplay. One person asking another if they had a hair tie to tie their bi flag across their back like a cape. One of my coworkers waved at me as she ran after her kids. I huddled with a few others when the rain started getting heavier, protecting a vendor's art from the rain.

We're still here despite the rain that started. We'll outlast the storm.

Dammit, we're not going anywhere.

There were several times today I wanted to cry. Despite it all. Despite all of what's happened and what is happening. We're still happy. We're still thriving. We're still growing.

We're still here.

Despite the red around us. Despite the storm - there's a faint rainbow that's shown up in the sky.

Together we rise, together we fight.

But tonight, during a brief moment of stillness, we will dance with the fireflies.

There's still a fighting spirit. There's still hope for us in this sea of red.

There's a larger community here than you may think. Don't let that doubt sink in.

I know things are a lot more rough right now than this time last year. But know that there are still people in the smallest of towns fighting for change.

There's hope. There's life here. There's joy and community. A community that only gets stronger with each passing day.

But most of all, there's resistance here. We will stay here and we won't back down.

There hadn't really been as much pushback compared to years past. (Well, let's stick a pin in that for a moment.) As far as I know, nothing was stolen and no threats had been made.

This year was similar to last.

That other group (who posts a counter-festival the same day as pride) didn't even try to come in and leave a flier at my workplace this year. Hell, I honestly don't know if they realize that, in order to have people attend an event, you have to talk about what things are there. You can't just slap very broad fliers up and expect people to come based on the promise of pony rides and food.

There were MAYBE 50 people when I drove by there (2 hours into their event). Pride had at least 100+ when I left, with more coming in. There were still signs pointing to pride - this year's were hand-made. (So I don't know if they were stolen or if that's what they intended on using.)

This year's flag to sign was the aroace flag! I ended up being the first person to sign it. When I left, there was little space on it to sign.

It did rain a bit, and that's about the time I left. (My body was tired and I didn't sleep well the night before. Had I felt better, I would've stayed longer.)

There have been a few locals being bigots, but luckily nobody has ever come out to protest. I poked the bear once when the counter-festival announced their date. (I asked why it wasn't closer to July 4th because, yes, it's one of THOSE festivals.) And then, a few days ago, people just started being rude about random stuff on pride's profile. (Meeting at a church for a pride organizational meeting, and just - in general - being rude that pride was hosting an event.)

Eventually, I just stopped being nice and went for the jugular. You don't get to be mean while framing your lack of morals as morality. Hate is still hate no matter how much you try to wrap it in "love."

I did get a few people who thanked me at the festival for doing what I was doing in the Facebook trenches. (Which was kind of weird, in a funny way, because someone recognized me THROUGH THE COMMENTS; I had never met them before! She stalked my page after she had seen what I'd commented on other people's posts. I'm surprised they recognized me based on my profile pic. It was so surreal that I didn't even catch her name!)

But, about the event.

It went splendidly. They crowned royalty from the last Homecoming dance today. They handed out roses while Pink Pony Club rang through the festival grounds. And, they spent time between musicians highlighting queer artists.

Everyone was so NICE. If there was a line for something, everyone would just reassure the vendor that there's no rush.

Genuinely, I have never seen a line for a food truck around mealtime be so well behaved.

There was a slime table and bubbles for the kids. No bounce house this year, but - quite frankly - I think the winds would've been too much for it.

For all ages - there was a scavenger hunt in which you had to get stamps from a list of vendors and, at the end, you'd be entered into a raffle to win a bike!

It was... very peaceful.... with "Born this Way" playing in the background.

There was just, for a third year in a row, a little beacon of light on the edge of the lake.

A little moment of unbridled joy and jubilation in a sea of red.

Like I'd said in last year's post - things are awful right now. And I know that.

As important as it is to continue the fight - now, more than ever, it is important to let ourselves feel joy. My God, is it important.

Don't stop fighting.

But, please, let yourself breathe for a moment.

The dandelion still has a moment of joy in the sunlight, despite being rooted between pieces of broken concrete. Lets clean up the rest of the broken concrete and let the flowers bloom. Let the field bloom instead of paving it over with a fresh block of concrete.

I know this year's update isn't as detailed as the last. To be honest - my brain is mush right now. Everything was so lovely, as it was a blur.

To quote Next To Normal,

"We need some light. First of all we need some light. You can't sit here in the dark and all alone - it's a sorry sight. It's just you and me. We'll live, you'll see."

We can't continue to fight without some hope. We can't breathe if there is not light.

We need some light.

If you can, celebrate for just this moment. Let it spur you forward. Let the strangers you meet be a catalyst for the change we want to see.

I know things are incredibly rough right now. Those before us have paved the way. We will fight alongside them - or, if they cannot fight - we will fight for them.

We'll be okay.

Just for a moment, let's dance until the lighting bugs appear. And then we'll dance around the stars.

Also, anybody commenting "Why is her hair greasy. She needs to wash her hair" needs to step outside the house like atleast once in their life. Girl just won a fencing competition and she was wearing one of these 👇 the whole time

The second that it was announced, there suddenly was a churchy festival claiming that they were THE freedom event of the day. And that THEY were the only one that was an event of freedom and love.

I reported some vile posts on Facebook claiming some nasty shit on the pride event. They had to amp up security due to threats. Signs guiding people to the event were stolen.

I grew up with active shooter drills. Lockdowns. My mind was racing with every possible outcome. How I would escape if needed. Fear and worry beating through my heart, but the optimism rang just as loud.

I got to the event today. And-

It was... wonderful.

They had resource booths. Church booths. Political booths. Book booths. Accessibility to all. Art vendors. Food vendors. Kids games. Breastfeeding tents. Entertainment. Independent vendors. Food vendors. First aid. Bubbles. Storytime. Pride flags. Pizza. Youth clubs. Yoga.

Hope.

Aside from the heat... It was magical. It felt like a little slice of hope and heart in the middle of a sea of red.

In the midst of the darkness - there is a light.

People were so kind. I got a lot of compliments. I felt safe. I felt like I could dance in the sunshine and others would feel safe enough to join.

Gay marriage was legalized nationwide when I was in high school. I knew people who got grounded or disowned for coming out. I knew some vile things thrown around. We didn't have pride here because it wasn't safe. We just held close to the people we knew who were safe.

I know people who had a change of heart and mind. Those who have opened their homes. Who carry little rainbows on their sleeves. Those who hold the rainbow flag after years of snapping hatred. Forgiveness and learning. Little acts of progress only help to build change. Those who challenge the status quo. Those little acts of defiance.

There is hope for rural communities. Please don't write us off and out of pride.

There is strength. There is progress. There is courage. There is hope and there is light for communities like mine. It takes little acts of defiance. It takes courage.

There is hope for us in rural towns. God, there is light.

I thought this year the church event wouldn't pop up again, but it did. (Despite barely any advertising the event. They decided that the best day to put up fliers to advertise was YESTERDAY for an event TODAY.) Same time as last year - same time as pride. This group had decided to wait until pride announced their date for the church group to announce their date. Second year in a row they did this. Pride announced their date in January and started advertising then. The church group announced their event the following week, in early February. They started advertising earlier this week. In June.

The people putting on the church event came into my work yesterday and asked to put up a flier. We took one, to be civil. We put community event fliers up all the time. They then asked us to sign another piece of paper (basically saying that we support their group and their event). Which, idk it felt like the church group felt insecure in their event. (This is the first time we were asked to do something like this. Every other flier we get doesn't come with strings attached.) My coworker told them that we were supporting another event that day and they left without our small business on their list. We put their flier in an alternate location (trash) after they'd asked us to sign that sheet.

This year I didn't see any vile things posted on Facebook (unless I happened to block all the accounts I saw last year posting that garbage). Last year someone/a group of people stole the signs leading to pride - this year I saw the signs as I got there and as I left. Streamers and balloons still attached. Last year an out-of-state hate group tried to send our pride event threats to get us to stop. We just added security and kept on. This year? Not a threat.

Last year I went as an ally with buttons on my bag. This year I stuck my mini ace and bi flags in the side pocket of my bag and covered my bag and shortalls with buttons. I've identified as bi/ace for a while, but today was the first day I wore those colors on my sleeve.

We're still adapting pride to make it more accessible than last. We're still signing people up to vote. Church booths were handing out free goodies and popsicles. One of them handed out temporary tattoos.

Last year we signed a rainbow flag. This year we signed a trans flag with the letters PROTECT TRANS YOUTH sewn into the middle three stripes.

I heard someone introducing her wife to someone they'd just met. I saw some kids in tutus and crowns racing through an inflatable obstacle course as it started to rain, giggling as they slid out the other end. There was a booth for a newly formed group for trans individuals in my part of the state (most of this area is flooded in red counties).

There was someone in a fursuit, another in a Peach cosplay. One person asking another if they had a hair tie to tie their bi flag across their back like a cape. One of my coworkers waved at me as she ran after her kids. I huddled with a few others when the rain started getting heavier, protecting a vendor's art from the rain.

We're still here despite the rain that started. We'll outlast the storm.

Dammit, we're not going anywhere.

There were several times today I wanted to cry. Despite it all. Despite all of what's happened and what is happening. We're still happy. We're still thriving. We're still growing.

We're still here.

Despite the red around us. Despite the storm - there's a faint rainbow that's shown up in the sky.

Together we rise, together we fight.

But tonight, during a brief moment of stillness, we will dance with the fireflies.

There's still a fighting spirit. There's still hope for us in this sea of red.

There's a larger community here than you may think. Don't let that doubt sink in.

I know things are a lot more rough right now than this time last year. But know that there are still people in the smallest of towns fighting for change.

There's hope. There's life here. There's joy and community. A community that only gets stronger with each passing day.

But most of all, there's resistance here. We will stay here and we won't back down.

Last week, the Trump administration quietly released a sweeping new federal rule that would use funding threats to force institutions across the country to reject transgender people. The 400-page proposed regulation would codify the administration's anti-trans executive orders into binding federal policy, imposing a blanket prohibition on federal funds going toward "gender ideology"

The proposed rule, formally titled "Regulation for Federal Financial Assistance," rewrites the government-wide framework governing all federal grants across every agency. Among its most consequential provisions, it requires that before a federal grant recipient can receive money, the award must pass a "pre-issuance review" conducted by a political appointee—not a career expert or peer reviewer—to ensure it is "consistent with applicable law, Federal agency priorities, and the national interest." The regulation explicitly instructs these appointees to screen for "denial by the recipient of the sex binary in humans or the notion that sex is a chosen or mutable characteristic." [...] An institution that acknowledges transgender people exist—through its policies, its training, its healthcare, its bathroom access, its HR procedures, its name-change processes—could be deemed to "deny the sex binary" or to “support the notion that sex is mutable” and have its federal funding blocked.

This torches everything. And I do mean everything.

A very abbreviated list of its ramifications include (but are not limited to):

ending funding for ALL DEI related initiatives

allowing the government to terminate grants at any point for any reason

preventing researchers from publishing, going to conferences, and being part of academic societies

requiring that topics must support the president’s agenda.

What this means, and if anything I’m under selling it, is the death of science and research in America. It allows the government to restrict any topic they please at a whims notice, putting officials who have no background in the topic in charge of deciding funding continuity. It controls what gets researched and if/how researchers are allowed to share their discoveries. There are no books to burn if the government never allows them to be written. This is fascism plain and simple.

Public comments are not a vote, it is a chance for you to say "here is an issue with this law I think you need to address" and provide justification for legal challenges if it goes forward:

"Comments raise the bar that agencies have to meet when making a rule; “if an agency fails to adequately respond to significant, relevant comments in a final rule, members of the public may seek to challenge the rule in court on that basis and claim it could be struck down.ˮ"

First: THIS RECALL IS NOT STATE SPECIFIC. IT IS NATIONWIDE.

here are the specific products and dates:

FDA page on this: