I am a queer cisgendered woman living and studying law in Montréal. I come from a mixed-race background, but I code as White and benefit from White privilege. (I tend to identify along the lines of “not qu’white” or “off-white.”) I grew up under the poverty line, and am now in the process of being stretched across boundaries of class as I near the end of my law degree. (I tend to identify along the lines of “class-transient” or “class-queer.”) My family is still poor.
I made this space in order to talk about my experiences of classism, race, abuse, queer existence, mental illness, law, family, activism, education, and survival.
Whatever I say, I might be wrong. That’s the risk that we all take when we open our mouths. But if we don’t speak, then we can have no dialogue, no understanding, no change. If we don’t speak, we allow our voices to become distorted, lonely and angry as they are cooped up in our heads. If we don’t speak, we make it harder for others like us to speak. Those are my excuses.
I believe that critique is a form of love. That’s how I give it, and that’s how I take it. I am here, I have a lot to get off my chest, and I have a lot to learn.