Views from a BrewTown Sista (aka The Chronicles of Kayleah H. Madison)

There I was, sitting in this makeshift classroom in our hotel with my sisters for a series of classes to, well, empower us in this chaotic world of The Pumpkin Head. I had been in an invisible makeshift shell that had been re-created thanks to my not getting involved with getting to know my fellow sisters. It was my vacation from work, yes, however, everyday while I was at BTAC, my hotel room also felt like a goddamn prison away from home. Four years coming here, and it's the second time in as many years that I have a room to myself. I at first expected someone to room with, but thanks to the possible scare tactics of political nonsense, some decided to stay home. Great. More time to stare at a white stucco ceiling, maybe to see if a cockroach or spider found its way to occupy my lonliness. My perennial bout of moodiness returns like a five o' clock shadow on my face. Some of the girls I've known since my first BTAC convention back in 2019. Yet times change, as they always ...

With trans people like me under pressure of erasure thanks to ongoing regulations with the ever-so-Nazi-like Pumpkin Head Administration, this year's Black Trans Advocacy Coalition (BTAC) was as much of a rallying cry as ever. Maybe thanks to Texas' own trans issues of their own, including the potential threat for all trans people living in the Lone Star State to be forced to de-transition,the convention's attendance was smaller than the year before, for multiple reasons. Nevertheless, BTAC must go on, despite all the negative calamities, heeding this year's slogan: "Redefining Our Resilience--I Am UnErasable".  There were newer faces this time around, while not seeing the familiar ones that I'd seen in past BTACs. My hotel room only had me there the entire week, wondering if a late attendee was going to arrive. No soap here. Matter of fact, I had packed so quickly I Door Dashed some items to the hotel from the nearest Walmart. Yes, I know what you're ...