An Orthodox LDS Member's Guide to Being a [Completely Unradical] LGBT Ally

One of the hardest things about moving across the country to Illinois has been being away from a trusted network of friends. In-person interactions always feel so much more meaningful to me than far-flung correspondence. Losing those comfortable interactions with old friends has made me realize how essential I find having good strong relationships and friendships. I, like most LGBT people, need allies willing to help me. This is especially true for me as I try and navigate being transgender as an active Mormon.

Often members of my various congregations have had no idea how to interact with, communicate with, or help me as an LGBT member of the Church. I've realized that a big part of the problem is that while there are a lot of great resources available online discussing what it means to be an ally to the LGBT community, Mormons rarely engage with these sources. I know that LDS members often fear that being an “ally” will conflict with their own religious beliefs. 

For LDS members, a single question hangs over this whole topic: Is it possible to be a good LDS member and still be an LGBT ally?

Because of this confusion, I think a lot of LDS members feel like they are making up how to interact with and help LGBT individuals. Many of these LDS allies are trying to balance church commitments and religious beliefs with biological and social understanding of LGBT issues. This can often lead to some confusing, or frustrating interactions. This confusion makes me feel even more isolated and alone.

At the same time, I’ve had so many wonderful people ask how they can help in a meaningful way. Thus, I’ve put together a few ideas. Let’s look at what’s not helpful first.

• The "Let me know how I can help! Okay, bye!" ally: This is in my experience the most common way LDS members try to be an ally. These members of the Church are good, well-intentioned people, but are very uncomfortable about discussing or talking about any kind of LGBT experience. They will happily bake you a plate of cookies or mow your lawn when you are sick, but they just don't know how to engage with a topic that makes them uncomfortable. So they would rather avoid and ignore my experience and how it affects my day-to-day existence. I dearly love these people, but at the same time I can't help feeling like a huge portion of myself is being shoved under the rug. I am transgender. I get that this is uncomfortable for some people. It’s not an experience that most people easily relate with. But, my experiences grappling with being transgender in a Mormon community are a massive part of who I am. If you want to know me, these questions are impossible to ignore.

• The "You're so righteous! Everyone should be like you!" ally - These LDS members think being an ally means cheering for LGBT Mormons as long as they ‘keep the faith.’ I see this kind of ally everytime someone who doesn't even really know me misuses small snippets of my story to defend their own beliefs about the LDS church and transgender issues. I cringe when people say, “Wow, if only so-and-so had done things like Kyle.” I hear this kind of ally when I hear people tell me that they have been waiting their entire lifetime to find an LDS LGBT individual who is truly happy within the Church. This is incredibly destructive, both to me and to whomever I’m being compared to. If I am merely reduced to the portions of my story that someone agrees with, I cease being a person and become instead a political object--a propaganda piece. I hate feeling like I am being reduced into a mascot, or feeling like all my struggles and problems and pain don't matter. These allies, as soon as the going gets tough or any ‘mistakes’ are made disappear saying things like "I'm sorry that you weren't the person I was looking for," or "If you had only tried harder." I don't want to be used. I am tired of seeing my story turned into a blunt instrument to bludgeon other LGBT people into conforming with someone’s ideal of behavior. I want people to engage with me. I want to be helped when I am struggling. I want to be encouraged when I am down. I want to be listened to and understood. I want people to understand that my experience isn't messy or clean or simple and that there aren't any easy answers for me or anyone else in a similar position. I want people willing to get down in the mud with me and lift me up when the life is hard. Most of all, I don't want to fear abandonment if I make a choice you happen to disagree with.

• The "Our differences shouldn't matter!” ally: While the "Let me know how I can help! Okay, bye!" ally effectively ignores the LGBT facet of my identity because they don't know how to deal with it, The "Our differences shouldn't matter!" ally actively works to help me change my perspective into a perspective in which being LGBT simply doesn't matter. Now, I certainly don't want to be reduced into only being that one LGBT member of my church (see the "Can you be my personal project?" ally below), but the opposite extreme where my different perspectives and experiences are smothered by a thick layer of white-washing doesn't help me in any way. Trying to help me ignore what makes me different isn't helpful. There is no way for me to simply stop being transgender. It will always shape the way I act, think, and perceive the world. While being a “child of God” is the single most critical label as human beings, other labels necessarily help us understand our experiences and communicate our needs more effectively. You wouldn’t tell someone who tells you they are a diabetic to stop labeling themselves except as a child of God. Terms like this help us interact with people, and denying a term can’t reverse the experience attached to it. 

• The "You’re my new project!" ally: These LDS allies on some level really try to help. They try to engage with the fact that I am LGBT. But all of their interactions feel superficial to some degree. Often these allies feel an obligation or duty to try and help me, whether because of church callings, or a personal need. They fulfill their desire to serve or to fulfill a duty, and then that can be checked off until they feel compelled to interact with me again. I do appreciate the fact that these individuals are trying, but superficial relationships are easy to spot and hard to rely on. Once again, these allies make me feel like less than a person, I become merely that LGBT member who needs help. I don't want to be a project.  

Each of these kinds of allies reduces my identity. The "Let me know how I can help! Okay, bye!" ally ignores that I am transgender. The "You're so righteous! Everyone should be like you!" ally only pays attention to the portions of my story that they readily can use and agree with. The "Our differences shouldn't matter!" ally actively works to cover over the LGBT facet of me, while the "Can you be my personal project?" ally focuses on only the LGBT part of me. While all of these ‘allies’ are trying, these relationships fail because they haven't really taken the time to get to know me.

Luckily, I have been fortunate to find a handful of people who are willing to be what I call a "True Ally." 

What I am most looking for in an ally is someone who is willing to listen. Someone who tries to understand my situation and realizes that they will never understand it perfectly. I want someone who I am able to talk to, and discuss the questions I wonder about. An ally would be able to trust me and my decisions even if they might personally disagree with them. Being an ally means loving and supporting me no matter what. Being an ally requires developing a real, enduring, and meaningful relationship. An ally gives me an opportunity to be authentic and vulnerable, rather than scared, afraid, and alone.

Now, I understand that this kind of allyship takes time and commitment. I understand that this kind of allyship moves many people outside of their comfortable perception of the world. I understand that this kind of allyship requires ministering to the one. I understand that it takes sacrifice and work. Being an ally is certainly not an easy task. 

At the same time, the greatest thing about being a true ally is that any LDS member could and should be able to do all of these things. The hardest things this allyship might ask of you are: to have a real relationship with someone who you disagree with, to admit that you don’t necessarily understand someone’s choices but still extend them trust, and to continue to love and minister even when you are uncomfortable. I am confident that none of none of these points comes into conflict with Mormon doctrine, and that Christ fully stands behind each of these principles.

I guess I would compare being an ally to one of my favorite analogies examining the differences between heaven and hell. In this Chinese tale, a man visits both the land of bliss and and the land of suffering. In the land of suffering, he sees the poor, starving individuals led to a sumptuous feast. Each guest is then given a pair of three foot long chopsticks. These guest ravenously try to feed themselves. Sadly, the morsels of food constantly fall to the ground just out of reach of their hungry lips. Each guest slowly starves with a wealth of food always just beyond their grasp. 

The man is of course depressed by this pitiable sight and decides to continue on to the land of bliss. When he arrives at the land of bliss, the exact same table is set before him. Each guest is again given a set of chopsticks that is far too long to feed themselves. The man is initially confused; heaven and hell seem to be the same. He watches in amazement as each guest rather than feeding themselves proceeds to feed the person across from them. In the end, everyone in the land of bliss enjoys the feast until they are content.

I very often feel like one of the inhabitants of the land of suffering, unable to feed myself, frustrated, lost, and alone. One of the hardest realizations for me has been that no matter how hard I try, I can't do this alone. I can't feed myself. I can't come close to taking care of my own emotional needs. I am in constant need of support and help.

I need a community of people willing to feed me when I am starving. This isn't a task that can be accomplished by a single individual. It's too much work for one, even if Amy does an incredible job trying. I am so grateful for those friends in Utah who were willing to engage with all of me (a special thanks to Mark, Carli, Merrill, Kobe, Cavan, and Roz). Each of these friends has tried to engage, spent the time to listen, and then asked questions trying to further their own understanding of me and of being transgender. And I’m grateful for my new friends in Illinois. It takes time to build a real, emotionally vulnerable relationship, but I can see the seeds of new friendships starting to flourish.

So, with this Chinese tale in mind, perhaps being a good ally requires being willing to ignore your needs, preconceptions, and personal culture in order to take care of the needs and pains of another. That's probably my favorite definition of allyship. This requires developing a real relationship, which is going to take time and effort, but while you are working on feeding me, I've got a pair of long chopsticks waiting for something to do. I hope you are hungry.

Ky