I am Finn.

Me: you will not earn what you desire by banging the cabinet door.

My cat: This is a test of wills, is it not? We shall see if your ability to put up with my incessant banging outlasts my eternal lust for snackie treats. Years of conditioning have hardened me for this purpose. bang bang bang

Me: ksst!

My cat, throwing herself to the ground like she's been shot: Oh! Oh I have been assailed in my own home! Have mercy, have pity! Surely in the cruel darkness of your heart there is some mote of goodness that might stay your hand! Do not strike me, I pray you!

Me: ok

For your eyes only

-I come out of my cabin dressed in a button-up and a tie for our weekly fancy dinner. Eight-year-old boy A sees me and says "she looks nice!" Eight-year-old boy B cries out at the top of his lungs, "IT'S A THEY!"

-A very young girl I'd never spoken to approaches me at checkout, hands me what appears to be a piece of abstract origami, and walks away. I unfold one of the flaps to find "peace love pride gay" written inside

-Nonbinary campers are increasingly out and visible, and they notice me (our camp director now mentions me and our other nonbinary staff member when parents call with concerns about their nonbinary kids attending camp). One spends an entire programming hour glued to my side, talking emphatically about their favorite anime while we walk down the beach together. They later present me with a nonbinary flag friendship bracelet. They're eleven.

-Ten-year-old boy who typically has a great deal of difficulty controlling his impulses and responding appropriately to his emotions asks me suddenly over dinner whether I'm a boy or a girl. I thank him for asking me and tell him I'm not either. He responds, ever-so-chipper, "well, (camp name), I like you just the way you are!"

Day 1 i was in charge of watching the kids once they had been checked in. Every kid had their own preprinted name tag with their name and pronouns from their camp registration form.

I was asked by several kids if they could use a pen or marker to put in a nickname or doodle on their name tag. I said I would ask the camp director, but hours later she hadn't gotten back to me. In the moment I didn't understand why kids were so tense and cautious about nicknames.

There were also multiple kids I had to stop from sneaking off. Their reasons being they forgot something in their room.

I failed at keeping name tags clean and kids watched, and I was so glad I did. By the time everyone was checked in and roll call was being taken, kids had scribbled out incorrect pronouns and deadnames, and had written in the right ones. Name tags were reprinted later that day. Kids who arrived in denim dresses or grey sweaters were suddenly wearing rainbow leggings and transflag skirts.

What is dat *aggressively scuttles* 

First music, then voice modifiers… Now this. Perfect.

See the chap with glasses and an incredible moustache in the bottom right? that's Magnus Hirschfeld, the gay Jewish doctor who ran the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft (Institute for Sexual Research) in Berlin. It was largely his books, his research that the Nazis burned.

the restorative power of nature, aka the “go outside and touch grass” compilation