by Rev. Meg Riley
“At a chapel service this week for Transgender Remembrance Day, I will once again listen as the name of this year’s transgender people whose lives were cut short by hateful violence are read aloud.
There will be too many of them. I know this already. Only one or two is too many, of course, but the actual list is always gruesomely long. I know that, again, we will be reminded that there are many more whose deaths we don’t know about. Many of those killed will have been people of color. Many will have been young. Inside my body, I will feel grief’s vague boundarilessnes. I will be grateful to be held by a community of people I trust. Inside my heart, I will taste the ache of longing to inhabit another world, not this cruel one. Inside my throat, I will feel the welling up of what could be rage, wailing, keening, but will, again, be quiet, respectful, listening. We will all sit dazed and grieving together.”