Enough is Enough

A Prayer In Memory of Nex Benedict

I’ve always liked the image of incense smoke tumbling out of a thurible and rolling across the air in the sanctuary as a metaphor for our prayers being carried towards the heavens, towards the divine. 

Content warning if you read further: the following reflection examines explicit and deeply evil examples of transphobia that have resulted in the death of a child. I urge you to read at your own discretion. 

When I learned of Nex Benedict’s death, my soul felt heavy and hardened. Angry at the world. Angry at God. Why send us to earth at all, knowing what’s in store for us to endure? And how can anyone think it’s a choice to be a part of the LGBTQ+ community, when we face threats against our very existence just by living? 

It is hard to remain tender-hearted in a world so eager to let us know how much they dislike us. So eager to hate us, and so proud to hate.

There’s a word for those who act like it’s possible for any human life to have less value than another, and it’s not a flattering one. It is not something to wear as a badge of honor. It is shameful.

So, here we are in the trans community: keeping our eyes glued to a vicious news cycle. The news that keeps us up to date on what percentage of the country has passed legislation to make our lives harder, bit by bit, more and more difficult by always adding new steps to accessing our healthcare. Making it difficult so that we give up, and don’t keep trying to access the care that we need and deserve. The news cycle keeps rolling, keeps us up to date on what percentage of the country has decided today that, “we don’t want trans people to live and flourish as their beautiful, unique selves here in our state.” 

It’s important to remember that all transgender healthcare was cis healthcare first. In fact, cisgender people are the main recipients and indeed purchasing power for gender-affirming care in the privatized market, including hormones routinely prescribed to improve a patient’s quality of life (in other words, they will be taking hormones until they die) and many different types of surgeries too numerous to name here. Cisgender people maintain the economy of gender-affirming healthcare just based on sheer numbers and will continue to do so regardless of whether transgender people as a whole are included.

If you still cling to misconceptions about the transgender community based on stereotypes, lies, or slander from people who actively don’t want us to be here, ask yourself why. Why are we in the crosshairs?

Even some of those tasked with representing all Americans in the United States Senate have chosen to draw lines in the sand rather than speak with compassion and love about a child who is no longer here—simply because that child was a part of the LGBTQ community.

The following is pulled directly from an article on KFOR Online, Local Oklahoma news. Emphasis mine

“A 16-year-old died after being beaten [by other students] in Owasso High School, what do you think of that?” Cott said. “They were targeted because of some of these bills and some of the things Ryan Walters has said.”

[…]

“My heart goes out to that scenario, if that is the case,” said [Senator Tom] Woods. “We’re a Republican state – supermajority – in the House and Senate. I represent a constituency that doesn’t want that filth in Oklahoma.”

…

The word he used is filth.

Let’s sit with that word for a moment, as horrifying and enraging as it surely is.

How can you refer to a child who died after being relentlessly bullied in a public school… as filth? 

Why is it acceptable in this country for a United States Senator to use that word about… a child?

All of us deserve to live in a world that allows us to express ourselves (yes, even our quirky “weirdness,” whatever that may be) without fear of retaliation from other students or authority figures. 

We all deserve this.

Even awkward, immature transgender teenagers. Even uncertain, frightened transgender adults stepping out into the world for the first time as ourselves. Absolutely shining with cautious, optimistic hope and happiness that our new haircut and new clothes will finally tell the world who we are. Incandescent with the glory of feeling fully alive for the first time in our lives.

It is not difficult to be kind, and in fact it is good common sense: treat others the way you want to be treated. Didn’t our mothers at least teach all of us that? 

…

As the smoke from the incense rises towards the heavens, we have a choice to make.

Is the smoke rising towards a fire and brimstone God of judgment? A God who would condemn a child who was bullied by other children just for being different? Is there no compassion and empathy available for “the least of these?”

Let us take a breath, and take a moment to remember.

Taking a moment to sit with the profound loss of the beautiful soul of Nex Benedict in particular.

Just as we make space and time to remember and honor all of the LGBTQ lives that have been needlessly lost with cruelty as the law of the land. 

…

And now, let us take hold of the kindness that was denied to those lives.

Take hold of that kindness fiercely. Take hold of that kindness recklessly. Even in times such as these.

Fiercely and recklessly spread the kindness that was denied to Nex Benedict across this country, even in the face of overwhelming hatred.

We are here.

It is good that we are here.

And it is good that you are here, too.