I still remember the moment I realized I was transgender. It was around 5 a.m. on a Sunday in the storage room of a Burger King, where I worked at the time. I was still in high school and figuring myself out as a person, as we all do at that age. 

Now, years later, as a senior at Wichita State University, I have grown to know more about myself and my identity. 

“Transgender” is an umbrella term used to describe any number of identities that revolve around the basic idea of not aligning with your sex assigned at birth. My specific identity, a label I have adopted for the convenience of others, is “agender.” This label describes someone who does not align with any gender identity, rather than being an identity itself. 

Not having a gender — what does that mean? 

I was assigned male at birth, and I never really felt like a boy growing up. I also never felt like a girl. My entire life, my gender has never defined any aspect of myself. I enjoy both masculine and feminine hobbies and traits. 

I paint my nails, but I also have facial hair. I dress and present masculine, with black jeans, jackets, and punk rock band tees, but I’m scared of spiders. When I think of myself and my identity, I do not think of myself as a man or a woman. I am just… me. 

My personality, my traits, my hobbies, my accomplishments — those are my defining roles, not my gender. 

When Donald Trump was elected as president in November, I was horrified. I was scared. I woke up with panic attacks all night. I was scared for me and for my boyfriend. We are a queer couple, and a lot of the current Republican party ideas revolve around stripping queer people of our rights. The idea that I could go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow with the news that Obergefell v. Hodges has been overturned, scares me. 

I love my boyfriend and want to spend the rest of my life with him. To know that some people see us as less-than-human and want to strip away our equal rights is terrifying. To know that so many people harbor such hatred in their souls for equality should scare everyone, not just queer people. 

The Trump Cabinet is not just a risk to queer people, but to everyone who they’ve deemed a minority. This is the time for all of us to stand together. Queer people must stand with our Black and Brown siblings, with our siblings of different faiths and spiritual devotions. 

I am scared for myself, but I am scared for others. Queer people are the first target. If we let them eliminate us, who knows what group is next? Now, more than ever, we must stand firm and stand tall. 

Do not give in to fear. I haven’t. Use your sadness, your helplessness, and turn that into anger. That anger is a gift. Weaponize it into productivity. 

I encourage everyone to get together and organize. Do not let them erase us, our history or our siblings. If you’d like to reach out to offer your services or be in contact with local groups, shoot an email to [email protected], where I will do my best to get you in contact with the right folks.