This story is part of the Portland Business Journal's Pride 2022 coverage. Click here to read more.
Like many U.S. traditions, Pride was born from the resistance of the brutalization of Black and Brown bodies, particularly Black and Brown queer bodies. This June, I dedicate my Pride to those queer ancestors who came before me. I will never forget the bravery of queer folks who made it possible for me to be out as non-binary today. I identify as a queer, non-binary, neurodivergent, child of Mexican immigrants. This is the lens through which I see the world and do social justice work.
I often draw inspiration from Black and Brown queer activists like Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, who founded STAR — Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries — an organization to support homeless gay and trans individuals. They advocated for intersectional queer liberation in a much more hostile world. I hope they were able to experience the tenderness from the connections they made more often than they were forced to experience the cruelty of heteronormative fear. I often ask myself, if I am embracing my queerness more than letting it define my struggle.
Thanks to advocates like Johnson and Rivera we get to celebrate Pride! New York City dirt, dust, and blood covered their bodies during the Stonewall Uprising, which is now memorialized as a parade every June. Today I am able to cover my body in glitter in celebration. When I dance to gay anthems, I imagine I am dancing to the beat of their marching from that day in 1969. It is never lost on me what sacrifices were made for me to be able to celebrate in this way.
Queerness is unique and expansive. The LGBTQIA+ is so boundless we are bursting at the seams of an acronym. Our community is nuanced and intersectional. It is not always easy to be queer, or to be part of a community that is othered. This is why liberation is my mission. Queer liberation is the joy and freedom for folks to be their true queer selves without limitations or fear.
Through my work with Construct the Present, I’ve created a curriculum for LGBTQIA+ inclusion in the workplace. Capitalism continues to drive forms of oppression that make queerness incompatible with many workplace cultures. Whether I am practicing pronouns with a group of leaders, implementing policy change, or connecting with workers about their own coming out stories, I recognize part of this work must be driven through workplace culture change.
Finding the balance of community care and workplace culture change at times can be challenging, but I am driven to uncover strategies for long term impact. The support I receive from my own queer community keeps me grounded. It reminds me of the importance that the work I do doesn’t end at queerness and should never replicate the systems of oppression I seek to dismantle. I am dedicated to interrupt all forms of systemic oppression, remain curious, and stay connected to the communities I represent.
We lost Marsha P. Johnson to possible anti-gay violence in 1992. She dedicated her life to others despite her dealing with her own struggles with her intersecting identities. I was born in 1992. Like her, I hold many identities that influence the work I do. I like to hope that through my life, I can continue in her spirit for liberation.
Liana Avendaño (they/them), is a project manager at the consulting firm Construct the Present.
