What are YOU Proud of?

Pride week is quickly approaching, and I've been doing some thinking about what Pride means and why we celebrate it.  If you're in or adjacent to the LGBT community, your calendar is probably packed to the brim with events this coming week. Every organization is hosting something, every venue is hosting something, many individuals are hosting something.

But Pride is not just an excuse to party indiscriminately. It is not about promiscuity.  It is definitely not about going on crash diets and hitting the gym extra hard in an attempt to look good for the weekend.  We should celebrate to the fullest extent, but we should do so meaningfully and intentionally. It's easy to get caught up in the parties and events and excitement, and forget what exactly we are celebrating: what it is that we are "proud" of.

So let's take a minute to review a sampling of the many political and cultural achievements of the last half-century that have brought us to where we are today:

-1962: Illinois became the first state to decriminalize homosexual sex
-1969: The Stonewall Riots marked the beginning of a widespread gay rights movement
-1973: Homosexuality was removed from the American Psychiatric Association's list of mental illnesses
-1978: Harvey Milk was elected City Supervisor of San Francisco, the first openly gay person to serve in this position in the U.S.
-1982: Wisconsin became the first state to outlaw discrimination based on sexual orientation
-2004: Maryland became the first state to legalize same sex marriage
-2009: The ELCA Lutheran church joined many other religious denominations when it voted to allow the ordaining of openly gay and lesbian clergy members as well as accept gay and lesbian congregants
-2010: Dan Savage launched the "It Gets Better" campaign
-2010: The "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" military policy was repealed
-2012: President Obama became the first president to endorse same-sex marriage
-2012: Minnesota became the first state to vote against a same-sex marriage ban
-2013: Minnesota became the 12th state to legalize same-sex marriage
-2013: The Boy Scouts of America voted to allow openly gay scouts
-2013: The Defense of Marriage Act was struck down, with the Supreme Court ruling that legally married same-sex couples should have the same federal benefits as heterosexual couples
-2014: 19 states plus Washington DC have adopted full marriage equality


Pride is, at least partially, about commemorating these political achievements.  It is pretty incredible to see how far we have come in the past 50 years. These milestones are all indicators of LGBT acceptance in a political sense. And they are certainly worthy of pride.  But political acceptance is only one dimension. What about acceptance on an individual level?  What about acceptance on a community level?

In part, I believe that Pride is about self-acceptance: getting to a place where we can accept ourselves for who we are. Only after we have created that acceptance for ourselves can we expect others to understand, accept and value us. Having "pride" means being comfortable in our own skin.  It means doing away with the internalized belief that we need to change ourselves -- on the outside OR on the inside. It means being confident in our identity, however we might define that for ourselves.

Pride is also about acceptance of each another.  We are not all alike.  We don't all look the same. We don't all share a single label.  We identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer, ally, fluid, pansexual, etc...etc...etc.  We don't all share the same value system or lifestyle.  We are all ages, genders races, and religions.  We range from ultra liberal to super conservative.  Pride is a chance to not only celebrate our unity, but also to celebrate the diversity that exists within our community.  This means we need to accept and value one another and not judge, vilify, or gossip about each other because of perceived (and often real) differences.  Our diversity is part of what makes us strong, if we use it for good.  A rainbow of just one color wouldn't be very beautiful, after all.

We have a lot to celebrate this year; a lot to be proud of. We have come so far from a cultural standpoint, and we are living in a time of exponential political achievement.  That is certainly part of what Pride is about.  Equally important, though, is our attitude toward ourselves and toward each other. So let's be proud of who we are as individuals. And let's affirm one another with the utmost respect, despite our differences. If we can do that, then we will truly have accomplished something worthy of Pride.

What are YOU proud of?

"If We Ever Leave a Legacy, It's That We Loved Each Other Well"

I went to an Indigo Girls concert at the Minnesota Zoo last week.  The Indigo Girls are pretty amazing.  They've been playing together for almost 30 years, and they write most of their own music.  Not only are they great musicians, but they are also fabulous lyricists, and the words in their songs continually hit me in new ways.

One of their most popular songs is called Power of Two.  It's a love song in the realest sense of the term: not just about the happy parts of love, but also the difficult parts.  Listening to them perform it last week, I was especially struck by one line: "If we ever leave a legacy, it's that we loved each other well."

And I decided that is the legacy which I'd like to leave. 

Maya Angelou made the radical claim that "People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel."  I think that is right on target.

I'm not going to have a crazy-successful career, or do something particularly important for humanity.  I'm not going to save lives or bring justice or publish literature. The way things are currently going, I may never procreate and have the chance to mold a new human life into someone outstanding.  I'm not going to be famous in any sense of the word.  Those aren't my goals.

But I do hope that when my time on earth ends, the resounding theme of my life will be one of love and light.  I hope that people will say Kate Kilian loved well.  Kate Kilian was a good friend.  Kate Kilian created and sustained positive energy.  Kate Kilian attended my birthday.  Kate Kilian hosted great parties.  Kate Kilian made me smile.  Kate Kilian listened to me without judgement.  Maybe those aren't all things people would say about me today, but they are all things that I can strive to achieve.

Especially in light of my relationship status, small family, and lack of children, I think I have an unspoken fear of NOT leaving a legacy, of not being remembered by future generations. But maybe being remembered in the future isn't the only definition of legacy.  Maybe bringing something positive to the people who I love in this life, in this moment, is at least as indicative of success.  Maybe how I treat people is more important than any personal achievement.

If I ever leave a legacy, I hope it's that I loved well: deeply, broadly, and sincerely.  I hope it's that the people who I love know through my actions, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they are valued, supported, and - my personal favorite - never alone.

Is It Even Worth the Risk?

I woke up at 5:15 yesterday morning ready to run the Minneapolis Half Marathon. The start time was delayed from 6:30 am to 7:30 am due to weather, so my friends and I sat at Starbucks for awhile waiting. Eventually we made our way to the start line. By 7:30, there still hadn't been an official "call" on the race, but everyone was lining up and ready to run. Finally around 7:45 there was a murmur in the crowd, as people started to hear that the race had been canceled because of potential thunderstorms in the area. Thousands of disappointed runners went back to their cars, most extremely frustrated.

 I'd been training for about 10 weeks for this race, but I was only running the half marathon (I've run several before). So, although it was frustrating to have sacrificed some time, and a little money, and a few hours of sleep for a race that didn't occur, I wasn't too upset because I didn't have much skin in the game.

But on our way back to the parking lot, we met a woman named Erin who had planned to run her first full marathon. She'd been diligently preparing for yesterday's race for the past 4 months. Having trained for, and completed, a marathon myself in 2011, I know the sacrifice that goes into this pursuit: missing many Friday night activities in order to get in a (sometimes very) long run on Saturday mornings, being incredibly tired on Saturday afternoons after 3-4 hours of running, almost completely eliminating alcohol for the duration of training season, spending hundreds of dollars in running gear and supplies. In addition to all of that, this woman also told us she is going to be adopting a baby next month, so this was her one shot to train to this extent without the responsibility of parenthood. She'd worked so hard for the chance to run this marathon - an accomplishment that is so incredibly valuable and amazing and indescribable - and she lost the opportunity because of something completely out of her control. Although she was visibly disheartened, she was able to remain positive.

Here's the thing: disappointments happen. All the time. And the more a person has invested in something, the worse it feels when it doesn't pan out. In the face of disappointment, is it easy to ask: Was this even worth the risk of taking on a challenge?

Almost everything that has a high potential for reward comes with great risk. Registering for a marathon. Starting a business. Taking a new job opportunity. Having a child. Getting married. All of these things could result in disappointment, failure, or even tragedy. Does that mean we shouldn't do them? I don't think so. We are far more likely to regret not trying, than we are to regret trying -- even if we fail. Plus, if we DO succeed, the benefits are great. I have yet to experience anything else that comes close to the feeling of crossing a marathon finish line.

But even if disappointment or failure does occur when we take a risk, the benefits are still great. For Erin, the runner of the marathon-that-never-happened, her training undoubtedly allowed her to get into the best physical and emotional shape of her life - distance running is super good for physical AND mental health! She also proved to herself that she is resilient, dedicated, and tenacious.

The importance of taking risks doesn't only apply to big things like marathons and jobs and marriages: It's also a good way to live in the day-to-day scenarios. My friends and I coined the phrase "whakkapah" last summer. It stands for "What could possibly go wrong?", and is generally used to jokingly call out a potentially questionable decision. For example: "Sure, let's go skinny dipping at 4 am - whakkapah?", or "Okay, we'll spontaneously dress ourselves in all black and attend Goth Prom on a Monday night - whakkapah?" The real meaning behind the phrase, though, is that we want to fully experience, to get out and do things, despite the potential for things to "kapah". Usually, there is a silver lining even when things don't go according to plan, or result in a lack of sleep, or a sun burn, or a hangover. At the very least: they make a good story. I want to embrace all of the whakkapah moments, because they make my life so much more fun.

 Despite her best training efforts, Erin didn't cross the marathon finish line yesterday. That doesn't mean her endeavor to do so was unrewarded. And it doesn't mean she shouldn't try again. All of us, at one point in our lives, have been and/or will be in Erin's shoes. We'll try something and it won't work right, or we will experience an impediment to our success, or something tragic might even happen as a result of our risk. If we're wise, we'll do the only thing we can do: try again.