“Faith and Faithfulness – My Journey” by Ashley

PFLAG is an amazing group in so many ways. It’s a place that welcomes all people no matter what. It shows how the world can be when we think to love first. We can show compassion, grace and patience instead of judgement.  As a person of faith, I love that all are welcomed.  My faith saturates my whole story and life. There was time when my religion seemed safe or even right because it was all I knew.  The unknown and what God was really like seemed scary and far way. I often felt judged, mostly because of the leaders of the religion and their followers. I didn’t know what it meant to know God.   I still spent a lifetime trying to please a god I didn’t know. I even came to a place where I wondered if God even existed or if it was just some story that was made up.  Believing in myself, government, religion, and things of this world often times left me feeling like being on a roller coaster of hope and joy. One minute it’s there and the next it’s not.

I felt lost and not sure where to go next.  I thought of the Jesus I fell in love with when I was 5 years old. I thought maybe Jesus could love me, if nothing else, meet me where I am at. I decide to take a leap of faith. My life changed forever that day. I don’t how to explain it, other than I began to feel a love. A love that overflowed and touched every part of my being. A God that once seemed so far away and distant, now seems close and personal.

The next thing was to act on that faith.  To take a giant leap and trust God to transition from male to female physically and socially. The whole world I knew said I was deceived, delusional and crazy. However, God was saying something different. God was saying I belong, that I am loved and will walk with me while bringing healing, peace and joy.

Though there are many things I believe God has done in my life, I will never forget the year I took that giant leap of faith to live as a woman. There were so many things happening, plenty of hard and even painful things.  I was amazed at the peace I felt, and it was as if God was showing up and prayers were being answered. I couldn’t help but think back to all those nights I cried myself to sleep when I was a child, when I prayed and even begged God to please make the pain and torment go away, to make me a real boy. God never answered those prayers, causing me to question Gods very existence.

Now, God was showing up big time with grace, mercy, love, and I believe even miracles but most of all faithfulness.  My faith continued to grow and deepen.  This was such a special personal time with God that I have kept it to myself.  Doesn’t everyone have those moments? It’s a part of my story that I have only shared with a couple of friends. Honestly, I am open to sharing that part of my story  if I thought it might help someone else in their own journey and it would bring Glory to God.

One of those things I would like to share is something I have shared in past with some. It was one of the first things as I began my journey.

It was early Spring and I had wakened to a heavy dew.  I had cattle out on pasture.  I complained about how the grass might be wet. I didn’t want to start my day with wet pants, shoes, and socks.  Wet pants would often leave a rash on my legs. The soggy, squishy shoes and socks were like nails on chalk board for me.

As I reached my grandparents place where my cattle where, they were not in the corral by the barn. The barn sat on hill and behind the barn was the opening to the pasture. I walked behind the barn and looked out to the pasture and could see the cattle on the next hill over. It looked like they might all be there. Maybe that’s good enough and don’t have to walk through the wet grass. I was quickly reminded that God will leave the 99 to find the one that is lost.  As the sun was rising I knew I had to  make sure every one of them was accounted for. Then I felt this warmth on my arm. I assumed it was the sun but there was one spot that was warmer like someone had placed their hand on my arm.

As I looked out, I began to cry. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life. The beautiful colors and shades all together with the warm moist air. I realized it’s the first time I ever experienced a sun rise on a beautiful day.  I walked down into valley and now the sun was hidden from me. I looked up to get a count on the cattle. what I saw was these water drops hanging on each blade of grass. It was like each blade of grass clung to the droplet as a promise of life. It was so beautiful. As I took a moment to wipe the tears from my eyes, the sun was once again visible.  When I looked up to get a count, I now saw little rainbows in the dew droplets as they hung on the blades of grass.

I remembered how the rainbow came to be from the Bible. It was a promise from God to never flood the earth or cause us to drown. It’s a promise of hope.


“Grateful for Bob Dorr” by Carrie Spencer

Our beloved friend and one of PFLAG Omaha’s founding members, Bob Dorr passed away on January 14th. Bob’s wife Rose, his family and PFLAG family will miss him greatly.

As I write this on Valentine’s Day, I think of Bob with love. John 13:34 tells us “Love each other. Just as I have loved you, so you also must love each other.” Bob was a deeply Christian man who lived this commandment every day.

Bob had a zest for life and put his energy and passion toward making the world fully inclusive, especially for LGBTQ folks. His work through PFLAG, First United Methodist Church of Omaha and the United Methodist Church’s Reconciling Ministries Network is a testament to that.

My story about Bob and PFLAG is very similar to many other people’s story. We were scared and confused when we first came to PFLAG. I didn’t feel safe enough coming out to my family. PFLAG was my refuge. Bob and other PFLAG parents were the loving and accepting family I needed. Every time I saw Bob he would grin, shake my hand and say “Hello Carrie!” He had an engaging way about him that made you feel special.

Bob filled many roles in our chapter throughout the years. He served as president for several years. A well-respected and award-winning newspaper man for 40 years, he was our newsletter editor and writer. And he also served as our membership chair for quite a while, keeping track of our membership list and mailing out monthly membership reminder letters.

Bob’s life wasn’t without trials. He and his late wife, Betty, both had gay family members they loved and supported. And they knew their family members’ struggles. So when their son, Michael, came out to them as gay they vowed to get active to make the world a better place for their son and all LGBTQ people. And when Michael passed away in 2006, at the depth of their grief, they committed to keep advocating simply saying “we can’t stop now.”

In 2003 Bob & Betty were Omaha’s Pride Parade grand marshals. Bob’s words at the Pride celebration exemplified his devotion to the LGBTQ community: “On behalf of all accepting parents of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender children we say this, if your parents for whatever reason don’t love and accept you just as you are, think of us as your parents. We are honored to be your parents.”

I grieve for my dear friend and mentor. But mostly, I am grateful for his loving leadership by example. And I know that we as a community, with Bob in our hearts, will carry on to make the world fully inclusive. We will carry on to make Bob proud.

Carrie Spencer


Diversity & Inclusion by Diana Fajardo

A Reality to Create Together

Human beings are sociable by nature, but can we really celebrate inclusion in the 21st century?

We can definitely say that we live in a diverse society, but not necessarily inclusive.  Our society is quick to discern differences, crossing the fine line classifying uniqueness, resulting in discrimination and segregation, which are antonyms for inclusivity.

Historically, we have created a path for patriarchal and hierarchical systems, and we are living with the consequences. We see the presence of those systems in politics, religion, education, economics and even cultural systems.

In order to say that we are inclusive we must reach the point where each individual is unique and their participation is welcomed, celebrated, and valued.

Diversity is the presence of variety where individuals differ from each other

We need to educate ourselves and the generations to come in the importance of creating inclusive spaces. Have you ever imagined living in a world where you are not afraid to be who you really are? A world where you don’t have to worry for being “unique”? What if I tell you it is possible, but it takes the effort and commitment of all or at least the majority.

We have been taught to see life from a single lens, but we realized that life has so many dimensions and expressions, that we need to see through the lenses of others to appreciate the richness of diversity.

Work, study or simply socialize in inclusive places, allow individuals to develop their full potential without having to bear the brunt of prejudice, hiding or justifying about who they are. It also enhance creativity and produces a feeling of harmony. I want to get there, don’t you?

Creating inclusive environments is everyone’s responsibility. I invite you to share my New Year’s resolution: what if we dare to change the perspective and dare to work and support the creation of inclusive places?

Historically, the creation of the systems that govern us have been in the hands of power groups, and on repeated occasions these groups are unaware of the true needs of the community. The idea of perfection does not exist in such diverse world; we know that our voice counts when choosing our leaders. Nevertheless, it is difficult for a single voice to represent so many, each of us can strive to contribute to the creation of inclusive environments, from our daily lives in our homes, schools and workplaces. No one is going to create a perfect world for us. We must work to create it.

No one is going to create the ideal world for us.  We must participate in its creation.

Diana Fajardo

PFLAG Omaha & OneWorld

Inclusivity Outreach Coordinator

“Coming Out – From my Experience”

The one thing I wish more people had told me: be comfortable with myself before coming out to others. It was hard to come out, but combine that with listening to friends and family you care about talking about how it’s wrong– those wrong and ridiculous attitudes made it even harder.

A person who says such things especially to someone who is struggling with something is not a person you want to be friends with , to be involved with, and they certainly aren’t really worth your time.

The most important thing when coming out- make sure you know what you’re comfortable with what you want. If not, you’ll throw yourself into a place where you are uncomfortable and uncertain, while also trying to deal with everyone else and their reaction. I wish I had done that before coming out.

“And some days I forget

what it is to be gentle with myself –

how to look at myself with kind eyes

and speak to myself with soft words.

Forget that I am my home

and a temple worthy of worship.” -Becca Lee

“Inclusive Curriculum” – A teacher’s perspective

Studying to become an English teacher, I’d read Emily Dickinson’s poems 100’s of times. They were . . . fine. I  . . . liked them . . . I guess? But honestly, I didn’t really “get” most of them and found Dickinson herself to be B.O.R.I.N.G. There was this whole backstory about her being painfully shy and reclusive and spending most of her adult life up in the attic writing poetry about what she wished her life was like – the desperate dreams of a lonely spinster. No thanks, Em. 

So when I started teaching American Literature, it was with a heavy spirit that I set to the task of planning my Emily Dickinson unit. Who wants to teach poetry about a boring spinster who’s been dead for more than a century? Hoping to find a way to make the lesson a little more bearable for my 11th graders and for me, I turned to Google and came across a book about Dickinson’s life called Open Me Carefully: Emily Dickinson’s Intimate Letters to Susan Huntington Dickinson. The book was full of mushy-gushy letters Emily had written to HER BROTHER’S WIFE. 

Wait . . . had I read that right? Love letters to her sister-in-law? That didn’t sound very spinster-y! That was actually super cool! I vetted the authors of the book; they weren’t quacks but actually highly respected academic researchers and authors. Hours spent down the rabbit hole later and I pieced together the story.  Everything I’d been fed about Emily Dickinson was a lie sold by her family, who were also the executors of her estate and the “owners” of much of her work after her death. BUT IT WAS MOSTLY POPPYCOCK. She wasn’t a lonely, sad, attic-dweller! She was lively and passionate, and had a decades-long relationship with her brother’s wife – who lived next door – which is why, though she had many suitors she never married. 

I was so excited to tell my colleagues of all these findings! We HAD to tell Emily’s story truthfully – and the American Literature textbook was not doing the job. I was disheartened though, the next day, when I rushed to my friend’s desk to share my discovery and his reply was: “I don’t know if I believe all that.”

“What’s to believe? It’s all here! It’s been researched by credible academics for years! It took decades to find enough documentation from all the parties involved and check and cross-check sources, but finally – “

“Nah,” he said. “I’m just going to stick with what’s in the textbook.”

I was disappointed. Heartbroken, really. I knew we owed it to Emily to let her story be told. Eventually, though, something far more critical occurred to me. 

I have gay students. 

I also have bisexual students, trans students, queer students. Students who fall anywhere and everywhere on the LGBTQ spectrum who have a right to see themselves in the literature they study. Why should they be denied the experience of reading and interpreting a poem in class featuring a relationship that might look like their own? LGBTQ inclusive curriculum should not be a luxury or a “sometimes” treat but a common, everyday occurrence in every classroom. 

These days when we read Emily Dickinson, she is paired with Walt Whitman (whose writing is pro-gender fluidity and was a rumored bisexual himself) in a segment called “Poetic Rule Breakers.” I show my students what the textbook says about Emily’s life but also show them Open Me Carefully, and other contemporary cultural portrayals of Dickinson, including a feature film in 2018 called Wild Nights with Emily and Apple TV’s fictional imagining of her teenage years, titled simply Dickinson. Gathering all of this evidence, the students are left to interpret her poems for themselves, as either the desperate dreams of a lonely recluse or the coded messages of a wild, passionate lover living a secret but fulfilled life with the woman she loved. 

I’ve never had one student put Emily back in the attic. 


*∼  for contributions to the blog, please email blog@pflag-omaha.org ∼*

“Here comes the sun” by Kari

I first met Sherry 10 plus years ago at PFLAG Omaha.   Initially, I knew her as a PFLAG mom of twins- one gay/one straight.   Her story was such an inspiration to me: military wife and mom, conservative church attendee and then one day she learned one of her twins was gay. What was she to do?  Her sister told her about PFLAG, she came and stayed and said yes to LOVE and yes to her SON and her mind opened, and she grew and kept coming.  By the time I showed up and met her, she was a bold and brave PFLAG mom marching in parades and I got to be one of many who heard her story of hope.   I then became her friend.  I grew to love her and her family and extended family.  That’s how it can work sometimes in PFLAG- the people we meet can become our chosen family, first in our hearts, but then sometimes in real life. So for her birthday- we both were born on July 16th- I wrote her this poem.  I share my love of her here with you all.  Really, it’s ultimately a story of PFLAG love,  for it all started here. 


“here comes the sun”

i woke up and sang this song

thinking of YOU



beautiful you.

you’ve carried us through…

for so many of us Sherry, in so many ways,

this is true


thank you

for being YOU

beautiful you


it is your smile

it is your heart

it is your laughter and kindness and caring

it is your thoughtfulness

it is your soul


it’s you Sherry

beacon of light and love,



when called on to be brave, courageous, dedicated- you say yes

when called on to grow, change, rise UP- you say yes

when called on to persevere, to stay the course, to not stop- you say yes.

and from the bottom of my heart, with abundant gratitude, I thank you.


(and in a quiet whisper I say, in my darkest days I think of you -cheering myself on with-” if she can do it. I can do it too”)


The world is lucky to have the gift of you. I am lucky to have you. Have a magnificent day, friend.

a beautiful day, for beautiful you.


I love you birthday twin.



*∼  for contributions to the blog, please email blog@pflag-omaha.org ∼*

“It is with PRIDE…” by Julie

It is with PRIDE I stand beside and support my daughter who used to be known to me as my son, who had more courage than I could ever have, to be true to herself and show the World her true colors and who she was born to be

It is with PRIDE I watch her blossom and grow into herself.

It is with PRIDE I see her join a community she only secretly wished she could be a part of

It is with PRIDE I ache knowing her suffering and hiding is over and she is living her true life

It is with PRIDE we talk about makeup application techniques, bra sizes and feminine strength,

It is with PRIDE when we are out together, I carefully listen to public transactions ready to defend my daughter from the lessers of the world,

It is with PRIDE we attend the parade waving our rainbow and transgender flags

It is with PRIDE I will stand beside her and support her when she finds a life partner

It is with great PRIDE I do my very best to be the parent she deserves!

By Julie 

Proud Mother of Eve

“Out” by Cei Loofe


hi! i’m not heterosexual!
i came out on the evening news.
it wasn’t something i chose to do.
it was accidental.
after all, i was hidden in a sea of faces.
but the cameras seemed to have no other places to focus their rest,
than on my chest.
my ‘silence equals death’ t shirt silently screamed to the
viewing area,
“i’m here, i’m queer!”
(no need for announcement cards that year.)
it was 1988 and my fate was sealed by that evening news reel
because someone decided,
a few days prior,
who ever said we all had equal rights to liberty and life,
was a liar.
they decided that because my friend was also queer,
he had no right to be here,
so they killed him.
but like all good martyrs, his death was not in vain.
the pain of losing him put us into action.
there were benefit shows every week
for our brothers and sisters with AIDS
queer nation coming into town teaching us how to act up.
businesses, uncomfortable with our affection,
who would zip us out, got zapped as we gathered about,
sat in, kissed in.
we shouted ‘try us!’ to the military,
marching just as proudly as they did in our own uniforms
born of homo-anarchy,
pissed off they wouldn’t let us openly protect our own rights to protest.
afraid we would molest them in the shower?
what power they gave us, even in taking it away.
my coming out didn’t start all this.
it was started long ago,
with someone else’s upraised fist.
but i helped.
i did my time.
i paid the price with dead animals, and death threats and fire
so that my younger brothers and sisters
could have a higher quality of queer life.
so the closet door could crack open,
just a bit, in places where it’s shut tight.
i helped.
a lot of us did and
if you didn’t, that’s ok, because it is an action that can still seal your fate.
in a lot of places, you can still lose your job,
the place where you live,
they could still take your kid,
if you piss off the wrong judge, on the wrong day.
but no matter what the judges have to say,
we ain’t going nowhere.
one out of every ten of us is born some kind of queer.
and its better now than it was then.
it was better then that it was before.
but that isn’t good enough.
we need more.

it is wonderful that two SOGI kids can walk hand and hand
in the street and we all feel relief they didn’t get beat.
but wouldn’t it be better
if we didn’t have to wait for that relief to drop?
someone fed them the ideal they have a right to be safe
and they do,
but not everyone they are meet is gonna agree.
and see, that is why those of us
who can choose to risk what we have to lose, must.
it’s not just activists who decide our fates.
we must contribute too.
those contributions can be anything we do.
i wear my colors in my skin
so if you didn’t know when i walked in,
you’d know when i left, that i was kin.
but those of you who aren’t as loud can still be as out,
still be proud.
just be normal.
your sexuality or your gender doesn’t have to be formally announced.
put up your lover’s photo,
make them know that your partner is not about business.
and if this is still too scary, a thing for you to do,
if you are too wary to risk it,
that’s still ok too.

Cei Loofe

This particular piece, ‘out,’ commemorates the death of a member of the SOGI (Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity) community in Lincoln, Nebraska (and a friend of the author) who was shot and killed at a party the man was hosting at his home. It was ‘crashed’ by two shooters who ended his life due only to blind hate.
‘Out’ also gives mention to Queer Nation, Act Up, military bias (again), the AIDS crisis and the general, painful, hardships and dangers being honest might bring.
The author, Cei Loofe, he/him/his, is a transgender man who lives in Omaha, NE. He spent 25 years as a freelance journalist, and now writes as a poet and essayist. Loofe shares his space with his dog, Shelly, a myriad of fish, and a clutch of plants that, so far, are still green.
He lived his first five years in a Nebraska town of 105, peeing off wooden bridges, harassing livestock and getting locked in barns like all the other boys in his village before experiencing different parts of the Midwest, and a reality that took years to correct.
Far worse things happened to LGBTQ Nebraskans in the time written about and prior. Amazing things happened too. Those are different poems.

“No Gender in Mother’s Love” by Jamie, PFLAG mom

A little over seventeen years ago I gave birth to an adorable baby boy. That day I discovered the greatest love I will ever know and even all these years later my child remains the most beautiful thing I keep in my heart.

On January 5th, 2019, my 15-year-old son confided in me that she was, in fact, a girl. That night we had a long conversation and at the end of it we both seemed to find a comfortable peace. Over the next couple weeks, she seemed more confident, more relaxed and less guarded. It was beautiful to watch. But then all the hostile complexities of being born in a body of the opposite gender started to present themselves: Issues finding a therapist that has a background in gender identity in children, finding a doctor for HRT -hormone replacement therapy, school officials recognizing her new name and gender, ability to use the correct bathroom, ignorant people, gender-friendly stores that allow her to use the correct dressing room or size her for a bra, horrific bullying and soul-crushing depression. I watched helplessly as every aspect of her young life became impossibly difficult overnight. I tried my best to stand by her and support her in every possible way. I tried to educate myself on transgender issues, I watched YouTube videos of parents with transgender children, I asked for advice from the pride resource group at my work and I joined PFLAG. However, at the end of the day, I am just the mother of a transgender child. I have no real understanding of the depths of her struggles. But she and I, DO know who she is. We have her gender identity nailed down and from that anchor she can truly begin to live an authentic life even when her path is so hard. That is a truth many people do not have the courage to live.

So, what did I do when my son told me she was female? I loved my daughter. Was it hard? No, loving my daughter is the easiest thing I have ever done. All the other stuff, the crap that occurs outside this house, that’s hard. But watching her discover her true self, develop her femininity, create her own style and step into the women she is meant to be is not hard at all. In fact, the inspiration and the strength and willpower she has shown is exquisite.

‘And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ‘
– Anais Nin


“Living in a world of isolation” by Jamie

Many people today are struggling with anxiety due to the fear of spreading or contracting the COVID virus.  This fear has resulted in forced isolation.

Without a support system during this time of isolation the pain and anxiety we experience can be very traumatic.

For most of us, our only support comes from being able to communicate with others through social media and other forms of electronic communication.

But what many people fail to realize is how similar the anxiety they are experiencing is to what people who are LGBTQ experience every day of their lives.

We were forced to live in the closet trying to “fit in,” because of the fear of being ostracized by society through ridicule, abuse, and rejection.

For us, our support only comes from being able to connect with others who are struggling with the same issues as we are.

This is why organizations like PFLAG are so important to our health and wellbeing.

I know all too well, the pain of isolation because I was born transgender. I was never allowed to be myself.  My fears of rejection forced me into the closet where I lived most of my life. If it hadn’t been for LGBTQ support groups like PFLAG I could never have survived.

Today I am free from my fear and isolation.  As many others will one day when this pandemic is over.

So I wrote a little poem to share with you what I endured growing up transgender. I hope it will encourage you to never give up and realize that there is always light at the end of the tunnel.

A little girl of only three is trying so hard to be free, 

But is told she must go away,

Because her love has to lead the way.

So she hides in darkness enduring the pain,

That she can never come out again.  

Her only hope is to trust in him, 

And find a little peace within. 

But as the years pass by the darkness closes in.

And even though she has faith in him,

She starts to weep so loudly that others say,

She must forever stay away.

But there is one whose love is true,

He knows just what he has to do.

Even though he would have to go away,

He decides to let her out to stay.

Now this little girl of three is finally allowed to be free.

No longer trapped within their soul, 

They both find what makes them whole.