In some other timeline, I’m alone in the field, preparing for a day of observing some small creature making its living. Its numbers had fallen due to habitat loss and climate change, but the pocket I’ve located has encouraging growth and I am here to record it.
In some other timeline, my transition from female to ???? is the least remarkable thing about me. Upon meeting me and finding out about my work, most strangers ask excitedly about the small creatures and express relief and joy at its increasing numbers. It does not affect my application for be a foster or adoptive parent. I am able to offer a home to a child in need. It does not affect job applications or interviews. I feel safe in public and I’m not afraid to disclose who I really am.
In some other timeline, once I’m out of the field and have submitted my observations to the scientific journal for which I’m co-authoring a paper, I get to sit down for a few weeks before fall semester to work on my novel. It’s about people kissing people who have the same secondary sexual characteristics and there’s an occasional sword fight. I dream of its movie adaption but it’s a long way off.
In some other timeline, I make enough money to buy a little house, fence the yard, and adopt a pair of misfit dogs. I have the time and extra money it takes to properly care for them and their particular special needs. They don’t pay much attention to the reptiles and aquariums but occasionally bother the geriatric cat with snuffles and sloppy canine grooming techniques. I’m secure and able to invest in caring for and customizing my home because I won’t have to move again once the cost of living outstrips my ability to pay.
In this timeline, I’m close enough to home to check on my parents but know they have immediate community to care for them. I have time to video call my friends. I have a collection of cool rocks I found during field research. The students I teach are challenging but engaged because they know that environmental conservation is valuable and that their future research will mean something.
In this timeline, my friends and neighbors are safe regardless of their origin and our potlucks are full of international flavors. We celebrate marriages and births, make casseroles and grieve our losses, and keep an eye on each others’ kids. Our neighborhood is walkable and accessible. The bus arrives at the stop regularly and on time.
Imagining a better world is the first step to working towards it, but I struggle with the possibility of this vision. Social, economic, and institutional change takes time and are all full of compromise. The “arc of history” only bends towards justice if we hammer it that way. I can’t decide what tool is best to use. One day, someone with the dreams I had/have can achieve them, somewhere.
2087
amandla
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
izzy806
blakekathryn
snowghoul
andulkaphoto
yousharknotpass
