Jasons Jitters☕️

There is no better way to share what opinions mean, how they evolve, and what to do, or oftentimes not, when someone disagrees with you than to tell my story. I encourage you to reflect on your journey, where you have come from, and how you came to be. Reflection is one of our most extraordinary powers, but it means nothing if we do not act in the present.

I was in middle school when news and social trends were becoming more accessible with platforms like TikTok and Instagram, and as a young teenager, I clung to them. The platforms provided such ease of finding opinions that aligned with my values, and having others articulate what I felt made me feel more grounded in my views. I observed each opinion and trusted my gut to direct me to the one I believed was most sound. With this, I found a community with whom I trusted to share my opinions and have positive discussions about why I felt like this.

Suddenly, the world became more online with lockdown in full swing. I was in my mid-teens and angrier than ever. I saw the injustices being done across the country, and I felt powerless in it all. I couldn’t go out into my community to participate, so I dug deep into the trenches of the online space, fighting where I could. I clawed my way through comment sections of obvious rage bait made by some other angry teenager with polar opposite views, trying to make them understand why they were wrong forcibly. I felt so empty halfway through lockdown that I couldn’t get out of bed and was glued to my flashing screen that hated my existence. It has taken a lot for me to untangle myself out of the internet web. Eventually, though, I found my way out through empathy towards myself. I reflected on how exhausting it was to engage in a discussion like this and how little in return it gave me.

In my late teens, I used my personal fashion sense to express my opinions. Bold displays of outrageous and graphic slogans hand-stitched onto denim and leather, taking “wearing your heart on your sleeve” to another level. Then, I had many more people come up to me, complimenting my outfits, on my mohawk, and reminiscing about older folk when they used to dress like me. I felt a sense of community at a time when I was only able to find it online. I had recently discovered that I was transgender, and I was scared. There was an arrogant freedom in this choice of being; in some ways, I felt like a poison dart frog, displaying my vibrant colors and saying, “Back off, I’m poisonous” to the people who turned away from my opinions and welcoming those who shared them.

Now, exiting my teen years, I have found myself. Through rest and regaining the creativity I had lost in childhood, I have found the energy to push forward. To engage in and make meaningful change in my community. I engage in positive discussions and know when to pull away to focus on myself. How to lovingly embrace who I am and know that whatever opinions or legislations may say, they cannot take away my empathy for myself.

I thank all of the versions of myself I have been that brought me here today, and I am nervously excited for what is yet to come next. I feel like I’m on the brink of a door frame that sends you into a February night's cold air and dark surroundings, having just turned twenty. Having that last look into the yellow light of the past as it fades dimly. And so I step out of that door and into my community with a nervous, squeaky voice and a name that feels too big for me, 

“I am here. My name is Jason.”