Save lives by using pronouns consistently

There’s an explosive, tender feeling queer folks experience when we sight a young queer in the wild. It happened to me a few years ago while watching a parade, when I caught sight of a teenager in a spangly uniform cut just for him, dancing in a sea of ponytailed drill team girls. He was beaming, nailing his moves and sporting a hint of blush and lip gloss. With a flourish, he tossed his baton; it glimmered and fell back down to his outreached hands. I told the person I’d recently started dating about it.