Powerful and Unafraid: Belonging for Queer and Immigrant People
Belonging is essential to us as people.
It helps us feel safe and connected. It can bring people together to provide community and support. When we feel like we belong, we often feel valued. That there is a place where we can be seen and heard. Many of us hunger and search for belonging — that is very true for queer and immigrant people.
I have so many memories of people telling and showing me that I didn’t belong. Whether it was being told we only speak English in this country after being followed around by a manager at a department store with my mom, having a friend in high school be hospitalized after getting beaten for being gay, or the countless ethnic and anti-queer slurs I’ve heard — each of these were a signal to me that I didn’t belong. Those experiences told me that I wouldn’t be accepted or safe if I shared all of myself, which led me to shrink, hide, and be ashamed.
Even in times when I found unapologetically queer and immigrant people, I didn’t feel like I belonged. I had internalized so much. While writing this piece, as if the universe (or algorithm) knew what was on my mind, I read this post from an Instagram account that I follow about Pride: “Any belonging that depends on your hiding is not belonging, it is bondage.” Those words cut deep and ring true because learning self-acceptance and how to love every part of myself allowed me to break free.
Belonging makes me feel powerful and unafraid.
Creating spaces that cultivate belonging has been so important to me as the leader of BISC. At times in my career, I didn’t feel like I belonged in political or advocacy spaces. I often think about the role ballot measures can play in creating belonging — from how BISC guides people through campaign governance and coalition building to how we develop leaders and messaging strategies.
The call to action to make ballot measures love letters to our people is an invitation to also create spaces and environments where we feel loved, fully seen, and whole. Where we belong.
In the 2024 election, ballot measures will play a role in whether queer and immigrant communities feel like they belong. We are already seeing anti-immigrant ballot measures pop up in Arizona and the NC legislature could join IA, ID, KY, MO, SC, and WI in referring a citizen-only voting measure to the ballot. Each of these are racist dog whistles aimed at stirring anti-immigrant sentiment. Rejection of these ballot measures will be a signal to immigrant communities that they are welcome and belong.
This fall voters in California will have the opportunity to repeal Prop 8 and rectify past restrictions on same-sex marriage and align state law with Obergefell v. Hodges. Similar efforts in Colorado and Hawaii signify the broader movement towards inclusivity and equality in state constitutions. To date, anti-LGBTQ ballot measures have failed to gather enough signatures or be referred to the ballot.
When I look at where we are as people right now, how we grapple with all the challenges and uncertainties, and who feels like they have a home in the United States, this question around belonging weighs on me. Each of us plays a role in belongingness.
We also have the power and agency to create belonging for ourselves. As we celebrate Pride and Immigrant Heritage Month, these words from trans activist Sylvia Rivera are our call to action: “We have to be visible. We should not be ashamed of who we are. We have to show the world that we are numerous. There are many of us out there.”
When we are visible, they can try but they will not silence us. We belong.
Read below responses from BISC staff who identify as queer and/or from immigrant heritage about belonging:
As a child of immigrants, belonging to me means that we can exist wholly and celebrate our multi-dimensional lives.
Belonging allows me to fully tap into my strengths, relationships, talents, and dreams which makes me more resilient and ultimately benefits my community and country.
— Caroline Sánchez-Avakian, Director of Strategic Communications
I remember some of my earliest years struggling with thoughts of being queer and what that would mean for my future-me. Even as an adolescent, I was acutely aware of how queer people were shunned and ostracized by society at-large. As a Black boy, my humanity (it seemed) was inextricably linked to how masculine I could be. I never thought I’d belong.
Given the social progress we’ve made (with thanks to Black and Brown women that have been the backbone of social justice work throughout history), belonging and acceptance is more commonplace than it used to be. I often sit in reflection, thinking about how fortunate I am to be living through a time where public consciousness (largely) has become more enlightened and accepting.
For me, ‘belonging’ also bears with it a responsibility to maintain our victories and expand the sense of belonging within our global community.
My sense of belonging has exposed me to what’s possible. We can live in a world that is inclusive and supportive of each other without stigmatizing and dehumanizing those that aren’t white, male, and Christian (and other closely related iterations, thereof). Because I’ve watched our movement create an atmosphere that lends itself to stronger belonging and greater diversity – I am drawn to defend it however I can. My sense of belonging fuels my resilience and strength for this work.
— Quentin Savwoir, Director of Programs and Strategy
As someone with immigrant roots, feeling like I belong is all about carving out my own space in the world and adding to the mix of experiences that shape our global community. It’s been a journey of self-discovery, acceptance, and connecting with others — rooted in the belief that diversity enriches our lives in so many ways.
Belonging gives me a sense of purpose and connection to something bigger than myself, whether it’s giving back to my community, fighting for social change, or simply supporting others.
— Eliana Ramirez-Vaughn, Senior Capacity Building Manager
I think that the world requires all of us — especially the LGBTQ+ community — to be strong every day, all the time. But having a sense of belonging, knowing that we’re not just accepted but deeply treasured, makes space for us to get to be soft too. And I think it’s that combination of strength and softness that helps us to be truly resilient.
— Hillary-Anne Crosby, Senior Manager of Public Policy Communications
I am a pan first-generation Latina who came from a mix of traditional Dominicans from Santiago and true-blue Dominican New Yorkers. To share my definition of belonging, I need to share what I think it is and what I also believe it is not! To belong in a space means being actively embraced and supported by the people (and systems/resources) around you. It is to be celebrated versus being tolerated. I believe toleration is a form of forced acceptance — the cousin of rejection. For that reason, I wonder if toleration is truly a compromise or if it is still a form of suppression. What does it mean to be a true ally and advocate for folks from identity groups different from our own?
In my experience of American culture, it is often taught that strength is something purely independent, solo, and all about going it alone and paving your own path through hard work. What about community? We are often expected to be strong despite existing in purposely placed systems that don’t uplift all folks. Most of the freedoms and joys I have in my life were given to me by people I never even met (ancestors, activists, change makers) and folks who gave without expecting anything in return (family, teachers, community members).
To belong means your environment is setting you up for and advocating for your success, and you in return are doing the same for others. It’s moving in the direction to support your sense of safety, growth, and actualization of our most basic needs to our grandest aspirations. Developing strength is just as much about accepting help as it is about free will, being resilient, and overcoming struggle. My immigrant family came from poverty and worked hard to achieve their dreams— but healing and thriving in their personal and work relationships also looked like learning to ask for help.
— Nathalie Avalo, Development and Operations Coordinator
For me, belonging feels like finding a community where you don’t have to justify or even explain how it feels to be who you are. Belonging feels like taking a deep breath. It’s the ease of finding a space where you can just be. Where you’ll be held and loved and accepted by people who love you without strings attached.
As a lesbian from the South who had very little exposure to other lesbians growing up, I think this feeling of belonging is best captured for me when I think about the song “Ring of Keys” from Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home. In the song, Bechdel recalls seeing another lesbian for the first time when she’s out to lunch with her dad: “Someone just came in the door. Like no one I ever saw before. I feel… I feel… I don’t know where you came from. I wish I did… Do you feel my heart saying hi? In this whole luncheonette, why am I the only one who sees you’re beautiful? No, I mean handsome… I know you. I know you. I know you.”
— Devin Hiett, Communications Manager