Tampa pastor on Pride: 'God called me to be exactly who I am, as a trans person, as a gay person, as a husband, parent'

My husband and I finally had the conversation that I never actually expected us to have. It was Friday, after we’d both finished work for the day. It started off as a typical just-got-home chat, with silliness and recounting stories of our day, using the shorthand and inside jokes of a couple that’s been together for a long time. I find him enchanting, even after all these years. We talk with the excited cadence of a couple that is newly dating, but with the depth of two people who have sheltered one another through unimaginable storms.

I was surprised, sitting on our bed, having a lighthearted conversation, to find myself suddenly asking him when we will know if we need an exit strategy. I didn’t imagine that we’d reach the point where living in Florida would become untenable, for us as a gay male couple, and for me as a transgender person. Suddenly the hatred spilling out of Tallahassee was right there, in our bed with us. The weight of Florida politics had crept into our safe space.

I am the senior pastor of the Metropolitan Community Church of Tampa (MCC Tampa), the oldest, established LGBTQ+ organization in Hillsborough County. My husband, Allan, works for a community organization that provides HIV prevention, education, and treatment, primary care, LGBTQ+ healthcare, and other incredible services. We are both passionate about activism, care, and support in our community.

I was born and raised here in Tampa. This is my home. I remember when I was an awkward teenager, in the 1990s, struggling with my gender identity and my sexuality. I certainly wouldn’t have thought then that I’d feel unsafe here in 2023. I guess I imagined that by the time I was middle-aged it would all be so much better, not worse.

Of course, in many ways, we have seen vast improvements over the years. Society as a whole, in this country, has become more accepting, even just in recent years. Marriage equality was not yet in place when Allan and I started dating, our community won that right, and were able to get married. Later, I was fortunate enough to be able to adopt our kids. Love made our family long before the laws caught up, but they did catch up, eventually. I have a lot of faith in the possibility of things getting better, even as we currently seem to be in a dystopian downward spiral. I am choosing to hope.

The thought of leaving Florida was short-lived. We refuse to be run out of our state because of ignorance, fear, and hate. The visible presence of LGBTQ+ people is vital. I was about 16 years old the first time I went to a Pride event. It was transformative and lifesaving for me. Just looking around and knowing that I was not alone meant everything to me. Since then, I have actively chosen a vocal and visible queer presence, and I specifically choose to do that in Florida today.

These days, I am hearing a lot of Floridians talk about leaving. I understand that impulse. I really do. I hope that others will also choose to stay, to be visible, to be present, to keep living our lives, loving each other, and being ourselves. I hate to think of all the joy and inspiration that might pack up and get out. It hurts my heart to think about all those folks who are going to be left behind.

Yes, staying here is a challenging prospect and I fully support folks in doing whatever they need to do to survive and even thrive, whether that is staying or leaving. So much is on the line right now. For trans people, in particular, the struggle is very real. The prospect of staying is daunting. Our healthcare is in jeopardy. Our livelihoods are in jeopardy. It’s even illegal for us to use most public restrooms at this point. I can’t go online or watch the news without hearing yet another elected official make me feel unsafe. The current anti-LGBTQ+ laws are only part of the problem. When politicians and pundits imply that we are dangerous, that even saying words like “gay” or “trans'' puts kids at risk, they are demonizing us. They are stoking the flames of fury in their followers, and I fear that this will lead to violence.

I will continue to meet hatred with love at every turn, for as long as I am able. I choose hope. I owe it to that awkward and uncomfortable queer kid I once was, and to all the kids who are trying to find their path today. In my faith tradition, we speak a lot about calling. I truly believe I was called to this. God called me to be exactly who I am, as a trans person, as a gay person, as a husband, parent, and pastor. What an amazing blessing it is to have walked the path I have walked so far! Now is not the time to be silent about our stories, now is the time for pride. If you are a Floridan who is being oppressed and you’ve felt silenced by hateful rhetoric, I hope you can feel boosted by this instead. You are not alone. You are valid. You are loved. You belong.