I'm Just Me Zine Issue 01: Reclamation by Miriam Choi

I’m Just Me zine

reclamation

welcome to

i’m just me zine

the creator’s letter I am a queer, agender, second-generation Korean-American. The majority of my life is shaped by the spaces in which I exist, the faces I take on for safety, and the shackles I release when I am free to portray who I am to the fullest extent. Authentic self-expression is not something that is readily accessible to me. Oftentimes, one crucial part of myself is silenced when another is in the spotlight; all parts of myself can not easily coexist. Two years ago, I began to think of ways to create a space of visibility and empowerment myself. This space needed to be inclusive to tackle the harmful practice of using individuals as representation for the masses. It needed to be authentic to highlight the beauty of the individual. It needed to be collaborative to create a lasting bond between those who share their stories and the readers. And thus, I’m Just Me was created. There are four individuals who will share their stories in this issue. Each person has also granted you, the reader, a gift — one we hope that you will enjoy and treasure. Welcome to I’m Just Me.

Miriam Choi

The content within this zine contains sensitive material including suicidal thoughts, abuse, and violence.

table of contents

david r.

“best thing since sliced bread” she/he/they David Rocha is a “self-deprecating narcissist,” triple Aquarius, and loving friend, but his story is one of resilience and the journey he took to achieve freedom in expression.

11 - 16

SAJL SALIM

“soft on the inside, hard on the outside” they/them Sajl Salim has an intimidating exterior that envelops a warm and caring interior. Known to stick up for their friends but also have a good time, Sajl is someone with many memories, much love, and beautiful poetry to share.

17 - 22

pedro pablo Luzuriaga IV “on the journey of self-discovery” he/him

Pedro Pablo Luzuriaga has an endless amount of kindness and warmth to give others. Though his past is one of survival and sorrow, he draws out strength to push forward every single day.

23 - 28

CHRIStopher MANalansan “a little ball of sunshine” he/him

Christopher Manalansan is the personification of a ball of energy — when he wants to be. He is a talented dancer and passionate advocate with an infectious spirit and boundless knowledge he shares in every conversation.

a word of thanks

29 - 34

35 - 36

david r. she/he/they

Miriam Choi — Could you describe yourself as if you were your own best friend? David R. — David is 23 years old and a triple Aquarius (a very rare thing) who likes to mention things like that because he’s a very unique and outstanding individual. He’s smart and was always told that he was smart growing up, so he likes to keep that mindset. He’s very kind and quick-witted, can sing and dance, and will try to get you to convert to KPOP by forcing you to listen to his favorite groups. His holy trinity consists of Loona, RuPaul’s Drag Race, and Pokémon. He identifies as queer in both gender and sexuality and does not see either as fixed or constant. He was often racially othered growing up and considers himself a very resilient person. He loves being there for others either by cracking a joke or taking them out for their favorite meal. David is a self-deprecating narcissist who thinks he is the best thing since sliced bread. A survivor who puts their friends above everything else.

times when I was so hungry and would take a nap to sleep off the hunger because we had nothing to eat.I missed out on so much because of class differences, and I also saw a lot of queer people of color and trans people of color being treated as lesser than. You see it all the time in media — we’re always the butt of the joke. I heard the phrase “that’s gay” in a negative tone all the time and saw nothing but negative stereotypes while knowing that I was queer from a young age. I would try to lighten my skin and sound as articulate as possible instead. This stemmed from seeing how the world values queer people, values poor people, values BIPOC as less than. This definitely inserted a lot of imposter syndrome and made me feel like I was not good enough. I barely managed to get here, and I still don’t feel like I earned it. MC — It seeps into almost every part of your life, it seems. The things you don’t create for yourself and the things you’re privilieged enough to have come with a sense of “I don’t deserve this.” And for queer and trans people of color — specifically Black trans women — the community is not seen as valuable until it serves as entertainment or a trend for the dominant identity to consume. We are consumable entertainment. How has this knowledge and knowing that you were queer from a young age shaped your experience as a QTPOC? DR — It definitely helped me know what to hide. I knew what things were considered queer and what things were not. In Degrassi, there’s a gay character named Marco, and I saw all of the rough shit that

MC — As a self-deprecating narcissist, how much of that title comes from your own identity and background? DR — There is definitely some imposter syndrome with it. During one of my first college courses, my professor asked the class, “who has been to the Taj Mahal,” and over half of the class raised their hands. That was very shocking for me because I had barely been out of Texas and had no idea that international travel was such a common thing. TV shows often talked about family vacations as well, but I never experienced them myself. There were

he went through, so I disguised myself as a cisgender and heterosexual man to get on in the world until I hopefully found some place better later on. There came points, though, when I would try and be myself after seeing

the traditions of being a person of color — and the unspoken narrative that comes with it — with being a queer and genderfluid person? DR — I felt more acceptance from the queer

others who were confidently queer. But I still had a lot of internalized homophobia. In my junior year of high school, a lot of my friends started watching Drag Race and were all loving it, but they were cis women and gay guys and I didn’t want to be “that” kind of gay. But fast-forward six or seven years and that’s exactly who I am — and it’s where I’m the most happy. It was definitely the fear of being othered by people around me, but I realized that I can’t always avoid that. Even if I were to make myself more masculine and change my mannerisms, I would still be othered because of my ethnicity or race. I can’t hide all the parts of myself. So it’s all about being my most authentic self.

community than the Latino community. It was much later on that I experienced racism with the LGBT+ community and was much more aware of these things, but growing up Latino was very heteronormative. When we would go to family gatherings, the uncles would always ask me “where’s the girlfriend,” and it was this constant pressure of a forced, heterosexual relationship. There was this one time in high school when my grandmother’s sister got sick and, while walking out of the hospital in the hallway, my dad asked me why I was “walking like that” and that I was “walking all faggy” in Spanish. That definitely stayed in my mind because I had never heard something like that before from my family. It was shocking because I have five or six other queer cousins and always thought that my dad was very open to queerness because he took in two of my

MC — What was a significant identity shift in your life? DR — It was the summer before senior year when i went to debate camp with one of my queer Latino friends who was really into Drag Race. During our drive to Austin, he told me to watch just one video, and I still remember what it was: it was a clip of Alyssa Edwards, Katya, and Violet Chachki talking and doing their goofy stuff, but I didn’t quite know what I was laughing at. I didn’t understand drag yet. During the debate camp, I watched Season 7 after finishing all of my homework and then went through Season 6 and 5 during the two weeks. I then realized that the issue of being “that” gay was an issue of society, not me.

lesbian cousins who were kicked out of their homes. But it was different for him when it came to his own child, his own son. There was definitely that constant fear of what they were going to say about me. I even had my family take quizzes on which Presidential candidate they sided with just so that I could see their thoughts on topics like gay marriage, trans-inclusive health benefits, things like that. Lots of things felt forced. I’m first-generation Mexican and was forced to take classes for communion

But it was different for him when it came to his own child, his own son.

MC — A lot of the struggles for QTPOC stem from societal and familial expectations. How has your experience been balancing

and sit through the priest saying things that went against my existence and identity. MC — If you could have the reader take away one thing from the qtpoc community and your experience, what would you want to share? DR — I wish people would listen to us more. People push us away because we call out the system and they feel like we’re calling out the individual. When people get defensive, it puts us in a difficult position because we either let them go or we fight back and receive anger. The Drag Race community, for example, can be very toxic, especially when it comes to queens of color. A lot of the viewing community is young, white queer youth. When you try to talk to them and say that what they’re saying is racist, they respond that they can’t be racist because they’re queer. There needs to be a more open dialogue on intersectionality. Just because you’re queer does not mean you’re flawless. They think that adding a band aid of queerness over their whitenss means that they are no longer oppressors. MC — Their whiteness comes first in the way people perceive them, so that in and of itself is a privilege that we do not have. DR — Right. Listen with open ears and an open mind to the idea that you might be the problem.

Chrystal Hinies Growing up, one of my favorite TV shows was The Nanny. I thought it was funny, but what I loved most about the show was Fran Fine’s outfits. She wore colorful and fun looks that were almost childlike yet fashion forward. This was the seed of my love for fashion, but being that I was only 8 years old, nothing came of it. Later in life—when i was discovering my sexuality—I was afraid of being “too gay,” so I strayed away from feminine things like RuPaul’s Drag Race. When my high school friends eventually got me to watch a couple of episodes, however, I looked past my internalized homophobia and began watching the show obsessively. This was the true growth of my love for fashion since it is a major aspect of the show and drag in general. I found myself being drawn towards high fashion campy queen— the act of taking literal things / a theme / objects and turning them into high fashion looks. Manila Luzon is a great example of a queen who does this. I started designing fun, almost wear if I were a drag queen. One of killer clown look inspired by who was colorful until an and white. Drag helped me fashion aesthetic and through design. Some of represent the type of drag that I love the rose look green bodice, illustrate an The butterfly m o n a r c h the shape of design overlap and create a mini obsession with Pokémon as a to create a pokéball gown look it just made sense to combine biggest passions together. When I went to college, I joined the XAI. They held annual drag shows, to take part and try to perform as a drag

childlike outfits that I would the first designs I created was a the clown on Powerpuff Girls accident turned them black fall in love with clowns as a allowed me to express it my other favorite designs high fashion campy so much, such as with the red bottom, and brown wig to upside-down rose. look is inspired by butterflies and uses of their wings to dress. My kid led me because two of my

diaternity so I decided queen. When my

XAI siblings were talking about creating their drag persona, I was rather perplexed because I was not performing as another person per se. I created my drag name, Chrystal Hinies, sure, but she exists as an extension of David, not as a separate entity. Chrystal was David with a different outer shell; she allowed me to explore my gender expression. Though I wasn’t able to create one of my previously created designs, I bought what I could, created my own outfits to perform in, and raised over $300 for our charity alone! My continued love for designing drag looks led me to discover a fashion designer named Moschino and their numerous collections that revolve around themes similar to the aesthetic of high fashion campy queens. Very recently, I discovered that Fran Drescher was dressed in a lot of Moschino for her show The Nanny which then became a full-circle moment for me. I fell in love with Nanny and Fran’s fashion as a child, the gender exploration of high fashion campy drag as a teenager, and Moschino’s creation of a space for new types of fashion as an adult. As 23-year-old David Rocha, aka Chrystal Hinies, I have found myself thanking the passions and interests I had growing up, regardless of them being seen as a “queer” thing for boys to be into. David Rocha and Chrystal Hinies now live unapologetically queer.

sajl salim they/them

Miriam Choi — Could you describe yourself as if you were your own best friend? Sajl Salim — Sajl is the kind of person who brings out the best in the person they love and care about. Sajl is passionate, very driven, ambitious, caring, kind-hearted, but also assertive. Soft on the inside, but hard on the outside. Sajl can come off as intimidating at first, and people who don’t know them might say that they want to know them and be their friend but are intimidated by them because their exterior is a bit on the edgy side. Once you start talking to them, though, all the intimidation disappears because they’re a very soft person. They strive to understand others and be understood. They care about building connections that are meaningful and not superficial.

bisexual person, a non-binary person, and as a person of color, child to immigrants, made me so different that there would never be a place for me. I just did not fit into the world. It was a sad and hard time, feeling like I had no space for me. When I came to my university I felt a little bit better, specifically about my Pakistani identity because I saw so many people who looked like me. But it took me a year to find a queer community that I felt validated in — which was the diaternity XAI. It took work to build XAI and the space it provides for people because we built it ourselves. It was empowering to be in a place where Black, Pakistani, Indian, Korean, and queer people of all different backgrounds were together. Many of us in XAI share that experience of feeling outcasted and that these two identities — whether separate from each other or combined — make us different. Finding XAI allowed me to accept both parts of myself, and eventually my trans identity as well. Before it, I had never been out in my real life and didn’t use they/ them pronouns; I was only out in online spaces from the time I was fifteen until I was eighteen. It was never something I talked about until I met people in XAI who are non-binary and use they/them pronouns. It was a moment of “wow, this is a space where I can do that.” It empowered me to share something new that I had never shared with anyone else before. MC — That’s amazing that you were able to charter a space like that within a growing community. SS — As the President of XAI, I oversee the vision and make sure that it is carried

MC — On being connected, especially as queer and trans people of color who don’t see a lot of representation, have you found any groups that created an atmosphere of community? SS — I was born in Pennsylvania but spent most of my adolescence and time growing up in Texas — specifically the DFW area — which is predominantly white, Christian, and very conservative with Republican parents and church-going children. That was the environment for my middle and high schools. I didn’t have a lot of spaces where I felt affirmed in my queer identity or my Pakistani identity. I felt alienated by both of those parts of myself. I didn’t see people who looked like me in any spaces, so I spent a lot of my adolescence feeling like an outcast. Both my queer identity as a

out in everything I do. One of the tenants of XAI is inclusivity — in every sense of the word. We emphasize the fact that we celebrate all parts of every sibling’s identity. I’m celebrated in my queer identity.

most. One of my best friends is Pakistani, with immigrant parents, and is queer, bisexual, and non-binary. Having another person with so many similar identities to me allowed me to talk to them about all of

I’m celebrated in my trans identity. I’m celebrated in religious identity — whether I have it or not. I’m celebrated in my ethnic and racial identity. All aspects that make me Sajl are celebrated and encouraged. It’s not just a queer organization or an organization for only certain people. That’s why I’m in XAI. I never have to silence any one part of who I am to be a part of it. I am able to claim every facet of my complicated person. MC — That sentence, “I never have to silence any one part of who I am” is such a powerful and strikingly sad statement. SS — There were other queer organizations on my campus, but I had to silence my ethnic and racial identities. And if I wanted to be in a space where my ethnic and racial identities were celebrated, I would definitely have to silence my queer identity. There was no space where both could

these things. We learned to navigate our identities together and find areas of overlap. Having people who are like me helped me to follow their experiences. It was also significant meeting other queer and trans people of color and learning how they went about balancing their identities. I learn from others because we are all figuring it out. It’s definitely been hard, though, because I remember experiences where these identities intersect — like coming out to my parents. It’s a moment where culture, race, queer, and trans identities join in one place. Even though my mom is socially progressive, her background as a Pakistani immigrant makes it more difficult for her to fully accept that her child is queer. She’ll always tell me that she loves me no matter what and there is nothing I could do that would make her stop loving me, but it’s still something she struggles to understand.

coexist. But I can speak on both and be understood, valued, and appreciated. MC — Exactly, and that’s why it is so important to have spaces specifically for queer and trans people of color. Because the LGBTQ+ community is almost always spearheaded by white queer people. Communities of color are almost always led by cisgender, straight people. There’s never a place where the two intersect. That intersection is what is most complicated for us: that these parts of ourselves are in conflict with each other. How have you learned to balance the culture and traditions of being a person of color with your identity as a queer and trans person? SS — Having other friends and siblings in XAI who are also Pakistani and queer and trans helped me navigate that journey the

That’s one of the most difficult parts. If I were to ever marry a woman, there would be a lot of family members that I could not invite to the wedding. I would still want to have a culturally-appropriate wedding and incorporate parts of my Pakistani identity, but the fact that I would have to exclude some people from that is heartbreaking. You try the best that you can, and I’ve learned to talk about all parts of my identity unapologetically. MC — I love that you strive to celebrate all parts of yourself, even when one is in conflict with the other, because the combination of those parts is what makes you, you. SS — Right, and it’s not like I can change any of those things. I have to accept and learn to celebrate it because there will

never be a time when I decide that I am no longer queer or Pakistani. I can’t fight the intersection my whole life. So why not celebrate it now?

the meter was consistent. She asked me if I had ever written a poem before, and I said no because, well, I was eleven. She encouraged me to write more and told me to imagine what I could create if I kept

MC — How did you begin writing poetry? SS — I loved to write my whole life. My mom would read books to me all the time when I was really, really little. Then, I started picking up books on my own. I loved fiction and how words could be used to create a whole scene; it’s an art form. When you learn to read you eventually learn to write. One just follows the other, so once I had an understanding of fiction and narratives, I started writing short stories. I struggled with creating long-form writing and generating all the environments and details because I had so much to say but so little to write about them. I didn’t ever feel the need to write pages and pages of a story when I could get the point across so concisely. I remember, though, in my sixth grade Language Arts class, my teacher gave us an assignment to write a poem after we learned about the historical importance of

working on these skills. My mom took me to buy a journal that weekend and that was when I started. I didn’t share my poems with anyone for a really long time, but my poetry helped me navigate and cope with my mental illness and trauma. I had a tumultuous childhood, so poetry was my refuge where I could write about what I was feeling and create art out of it. I created something pretty out of an ugly situation. I started sharing my poetry with others in college and since then have read at open mics and published some pieces.

it. The prompt was to “write about a place that you really love.” Me being the quirky kid that I was, I wrote about the place in my head. Sixth grade Sajl.

is very sad and depressing because it was me trying to navigate and process really difficult feelings that I experienced. When I was younger, my writing was more about getting me through those hard times. As I got older, I started going to therapy and got treatments for my mental illnesses. I was seeing growth in that part of my life. My mental health was improving, I was surrounded by people who affirmed and validated me, so my poetry no longer focused on those immediate feelings and experiences I had as a child. I began to use poetry to explore my place in the world and narrate experiences that were more broad. I used words to explain feelings that were bigger than me. Back then, it was “how can I motivate myself to keep on living another day?” Now, it’s “what does it feel like to be

MC — How has your poetry grown alongside you? SS — When I was younger, I didn’t have a solid sense of identity because I was in spaces where I was not affirmed. My identity felt shameful. A lot of my poetry from then

There’s no better place than the place in my head When no one can tell me when to go to bed I am the ruler I am the best Everyone works and I always rest I am the winner I am on the top Everyone loses because they’re a flop

It was some rendition of “I’m the best and everyone else sucks.” I remember my teacher pulled me aside after class and told me that the rhyme scheme was welldeveloped, the imagery was great, and

lonely? How can I describe that feeling in a way that is transcendent and allows the reader to understand how loneliness feels to me?” I have a poem called “Why I Write” and it explains how thoughts and feelings can be so omniscient and overpowering. You almost get a sense of tunnel vision and that the experience is the only thing you can process. But when you write a poem about it, that overwhelming experience just becomes words on a piece of paper; it’s not so scary and becomes approachable because you look at it from a more logical and less emotional perspective. Your thoughts become more accessible. MC — What would you want those who are not queer and/or trans people of color to know about this community? SS — It’s beautiful. All of us have so much depth and are complex and interesting. Each person’s perspective holds so much value. A lot of us have felt outcasted by society and have thought that there are things about us that are deficient or wrong or not okay, but the QTPOC community is a very empowering community. It’s reassuring to know that who you are is okay and that you should be unapologetically yourself. Even if you don’t understand our experiences because they are not your own, respect them. Our experiences are just as valid. If anything, you should be interested and ask genuine questions when you can. Identities are fascinating.

STARS by Sajl Salim

last night i made friends with planet mars as i laid in the grass and gazed up at the stars the night called out to my yearning soul as the lights from abcve filled my heart whole i reached out to rise up into the sky “i wish to roam amongst you,” i whispered to the lights but when the trees swayed softly in the breeze i remembered that i could not fly so free but still i thanked the sky for easing my ills fo being there every night when my mind cant be still

PEDRO pablo luzuriaga IV he/him

Miriam Choi — Could you describe yourself as if you were your own best friend? Pedro Pablo Luzuriaga — Pedro is a quiet person with hints of loudness when he allows it. He’s a very kind person and tends to think of other people’s feelings before his own. He has a younger brother who Pedro often took care of, but he was often scolded because he “didn’t take care of him well enough.” This set the tone for Pedro and made him believe that he always needed to look after others and place them above himself.

PPL — David, my partner, is the most open person I’ve ever met. Being with him allows me to see things differently, and he pushes me to become more aware of social issues and how to be myself. I’ve never been as gay as I have been when I’m with him. MC — Do you feel as if you’ve unearthed a certain part of yourself during this journey of self-discovery and while being with David? PPL — Definitely. I grew up not wanting to be “that gay person.” But that was before I met David. Being with him feels like I’m not being judged for the first time. Even people before him who knew that I’m gay weren’t fully accepting of my identity. My immediate circle was mostly straight people — besides boyfriends at the time. My mom knows now but doesn’t accept it. Any time I reach out and try to talk to her our conversation becomes a process of finding means to convert me. I can be authentic and safe with David. MC — Most people think of media and schools as agents of socialization, but for us — as queer and trans people of color— individuals are often our most significant agents. We generate those sources ourselves because of a lack of representation.

MC — What do you do that makes you feel most like yourself? PPL — To be honest, I haven’t figured that part of myself yet. I am still in the process of discovering who I am because I always had to work or take care of something growing up. I never had a social life and didn’t have many true friends who also took care of me. As a closed-off person, I am trying to open up more and discover these parts of myself. MC — What is the pain you wish to heal the most? PPL — The feeling that I’m in trouble or doing something wrong. That feeling was put in me from so young that I always thought I was not allowed to be myself — and it’s held me back from so many things. I can’t quite say where I need to start in the healing process, but that’s the pain I want to overcome.

MC — How has your experience been balancing the intersection of culture and queerness? PPL — My mom is Egyptian, and gay Egyptian people often aren’t bullied or harassed; they’re killed. Being gay was a death sentence for me. There was almost no way for me to have that conversation with her because she is so deeply-rooted in

MC — Are there any significant sources that helped you figure our your identity — in the past or now, recently?

her culture. It makes it difficult for me to have any connection with her because I can never be my full, authentic self when we’re together. This made it almost impossible for me to even know that the two can exist at the same time. They always had to stay separate for me. MC — How does that affect the way you view your own culture and background? PPL — I try not to relate to my culture because of that relationship I have with my mom and my Egyptian background. When I tell people that I’m Egyptian, they always think it’s so cool because they have never met someone like me before, but they don’t realize that I have to hide a part of myself because of it. Most of my friends either know that I’m Egyptian or gay, not both. Those two identities don’t mesh well. MC — With your experiences of not being able to have those parts of yourself coexist and it being a matter of safety, what do you wish people who are not queer or trans people of color knew about this community? What do you wish they knew about how you had to fight to get here? PPL — Being yourself should not be a fight anyone has to take. I deserve to be myself without having to constantly justify my existence. We shouldn’t have to hide parts of ourselves; our identities are not things to hide. I had to fight my entire life to discover who I am — people shouldn’t have to go through that.

A Tal

Explor “I share these personal photographs people to experience and explore world. I hope that through these you life and who I am.”

salzburg, austria 01. 19. 2016 I took a class that focused on exploring different coffee shops around the country. We developed taste buds that picked up on how each place grinds and brews their coffee beans.

Bilbao, spain 05. 27. 2017 I took this picture of where I went to learn how to speak and improve upon my Spanish. My heritage on my father’s side is found in North Spain, close to this location.

le of

ration because I believe it is important for their own cultural roots and the are able to better understand my

red sea, egypt 12. 30. 2018 I had just went to visit my Mother’s side of the family in Egypt and Sudan for the first time. I met my grandfather once before he passed away.

new york, usa 03. 11. 2020 I took this picture with my family a week before the COVID-19 pandemic hit. I had no idea how much the world was going to change as soon as I got back home.

christopher manalansan he/him

Miriam Choi — Could you describe yourself as if you were your own best friend? Christopher Manalansan — Christopher is a ball of sunshine to many and can light up a room wherever he goes. He’s the type of friend who will tell you if you’re doing something unhealthy because he wants you to be the best version of yourself. He’s a big people-pleaser and is always trying to make people feel comfortable and accommodated; even if it’s just in the car, he’ll play music that they like. He’s always trying to put other people first. Christopher also has a lot of aspirations. Ever since he was young, he was always trying new things and played all the sports. He tends to experience choice paralysis and a lot of self-doubt because he’s never committed fully to one thing, but that’s because he wants to experience so much.

people came to know me better, they had a shift in thought because they realized that they didn’t feel good saying those slurs to me. With time, I was able to be more transparent with them, and now it’s such a beautiful and welcoming space. We’ve all grown and learned more about LGBTQ+ inclusivity as well.

MC — What community have you found that helped create a shift in your life? CM — The underground queer community at my all-girls Catholic high school was so wonderful. It was a place where we could make jokes about being queer; throwing puns was our way of coming out. That was the start of everything for me. Then, when I came to my university and found the dance community that I’m the Vice President of Admin for, I was surprised to see how supportive they became over time. When I first joined in freshman year, there were different people leading it than now and it wasn’t the healthiest place. There were still slurs being thrown around and we were split up into groups of boys and girls for practice. But when I came in and

MC — It seems that it was almost your role to facilitate that change for them. Do you experience this responsibility often as a queer and trans person of color? CM — Absolutely. In every space that I’ve been a part of, I’ve had to do some form of education. Mostly I don’t mind it. Chella Man always says to be your own representation, so I take that into every place I go — being an orientation leader,

a worker at a Thai restaurant, a family member and teaching people the right vocabulary, how to address me, what’s okay and not okay. Usually I don’t mind if people are really wanting to learn, but it

differences between gender identity and sexual orientation. There’s also the fact of religion. I grew up Catholic, and — up until university — I didn’t know anything else. We had one class in high school called

can definitely be exhausting being the only one there — especially if I don’t have the energy to defend myself or someone else. It’s a pick-your-battles kind of situation.

“Morality” and our teachers briefly dipped their toes into LGBTQ+ issues just because they had to. The queer group at my high school went to talk to our teacher after school to ask questions, and they said that we could be gay but to not act on it, to be trans but not have the hormones or medical procedures. This was before I knew I was trans, and it made me view queer and trans people as a sort of science experiment, a Mr. Potato Head that doctors and people could mess with and change. It made them seem like a joke.

MC — How has it been balancing the traditions of being a person of color with your identity as a queer and trans person? CM — First off, when I was questioning my gender, a lot of the representation I saw online was white trans guys. When I started testosterone, I would compare my journey to theirs but they would have a full-on beard after five months on T and I didn’t. It didn’t feel

MC — It sounds like you have a really great relationship

good to constantly compare myself and set myself up for disappointment. I want to be that representation for someone else so that they don’t have to compare themselves to someone who is completely unlike them. CM — As for my Filipino culture, they have a word that they call the gays: baklâ. But they have one certain image of them which is a really effeminate gay, cisgender man. When I came out to my parents as transgender, my mom mentioned how one of my male relatives loves men without going through all the medical processes. So there went having to educate her on the

with your family now. How long did that journey take and were there any key points where their thinking shifted? CM — In terms of sexuality, I came out to them during my sophomore year of high school. I came out again as trans during my freshman year of university, but something that really helped was telling my parents first. My mom was especially receptive, and I had emailed her a ton of resources about parenting for trans children, and she read it all immediately. She’s been my advocate in the family ever since: telling my extended family so that I don’t have to, defending me when I’m not in

the room and correcting others on my pronouns. Most of my family is pretty good about it. Some of them were doing well, we didn’t see each other for a bit, and then they reverted back. I’m constantly working on correcting them because it’s foreign to them. MC — What do you wish people who are not queer and/or trans people of color knew about this community? CM — It’s constantly evolving. There are times when the things I believe change after two months, but I think that’s a beautiful thing. Vocabulary is always shifting. How we see ourselves as individuals can change constantly. It’s so fluid but so beautiful in that way. Never expect any of us to be a certain way. We’re all just here to live in ways that feels the most authentic to us.

to those who supported ijm

a word of thanks

To Christi,

From answering late-night emails to easing my stress during the journey of creating I’m Just Me, your guidance was not taken for granted. Thank you for reminding me that the light at the end of the tunnel is still for me. I finally reached the destination.

To tanner,

I can’t thank you enough for the endless moments of support: 2am coffee runs, phone calls during long road trips, and “study” dates that were sometimes unproductive but always special. These small pockets of gifted optimism carried me through to the end.

To yunji,

As family, as best friend, you were there to witness the birth and creation of this space. I can’t thank you enough for the never-faltering confidence that you had in me and my work. You opened my eyes to the possibilities of creativity.

To grandpa,

You said very few things, but you never failed to tell me that photography was my special skill. You are the reason that I picked up a camera, and you will continue to be the reason that I stand behind the lens. I know that if you were here, you would look through these pages and say that my work is special. 사랑해요.

To those who shared their stories,

Thank you. This space could and would not exist without people like you. Thank you for the vulnerable conversations. Thank you for your patience during the discovery process. Thank you for trusting in the vision. I hope that this zine makes you proud.

To you, the reader,

Hello and thank you for reading through the first issue of I’m Just Me. While the idea for this publication sat in the back corner of my mind for two years, it was the thought of people like you reading through its pages and participating in a curated community that pushed it to existence. This one is for you.

ijmzine.com

reclamation