Small actions, crossing small Rubicons and visibility

One of the items on my initial 2025 actions list – helping produce a newsletter for the complex I live in – came to life this past week. I also crossed a (small) Rubicon by submitting a letter-to-the-editor to the local Evanston newspaper. The letter (unpublished as of today – but I share it at the end of this post) was about supporting transgender folks.

Some other things also happened. More connections are made with folks doing advocacy or activist work, both on long term challenges and short-term anti-Trump efforts.

I’m sitting here thinking about all of this being about visibility. Our own visibility and also the visibility of our communities and our place within them. And about what becomes visible: Our thinking, which may not be obvious. Or our collective appreciation for folks who every day do their best.

The newsletter for our complex (about 150 units) included short articles sharing highlights from recent association board meetings, a “did you know” item about our free library, a notice about a group doing open-invite vegetarian potluck dinners, and an interview with the head of maintenance.

The head of maintenance in Mexican-American. His crew is predominantly Spanish speaking. He’s been at the complex since it opened 23 years ago. Likewise for some of his staff. They are all super nice, do all the daily cleaning and maintenance work that really makes this property what it is, and they are all deeply tied into the immigrant network of Chicago.

Two years ago one of the long time staff broke his leg badly and needed an extended recovery time. Our community (individual homeowners and tenants) pitched in financially to help bridge the gap.

I note this to set the context for feedback we got after the first newsletter. We asked folks to respond to a one question survey so the newsletter team might start getting a sense of what resonates with folks about the newsletter. We asked “Tell us what you appreciated most about the first issue of the newsletter.”

Half the responses specifically mentioned the short article on the head of maintenance. It wasn’t just “that was interesting” but “We love him.”

We love him.

People making their feelings visible. They didn’t have to write it that way; they chose to. We assume everyone loves the guy. They made it visible.

Another big theme that came out in the feedback was “community,” as in “this newsletter is a great way to connect the community.” And one suggestion was to spotlight some of our local businesses and events (we live in a very urban section of town). “Integrating the larger community into our little one,” they wrote.

Yes. People do see community. We might have assumed it. But now we have evidence in our little patch of the world.

The letter-to-the-editor was indeed crossing a small Rubicon for me. “Oh my, I’m turning into that letter-to-the-editor writing, retired crank of a guy.”

What got me past it was a couple of things. I really am pretty comfortable writing and putting things out in the public space. My career started as a newspaper reporter. You get over the fear of public writing quickly.

The second thing was the online publication itself. This Evanston newspaper was started, and survived, through the hard work of a very progressive husband and wife team (lawyer and educator) and 40+ year residents of the city. They made a risky decision in 2021 to move to a not-for-profit structure to maintain the publication as an institution.

It’s proven a success to date. The publication is everything you desire in local journalism: It covers city government, schools, sports, art and city life through a combination of paid and volunteer staff. An association with Northwestern University’s Medill school gives it access to reporting and writing from talented young journalists.

It really puts the Evanston community front and center, and makes it all visible with a clear eye. For me, it was an attractive place to be seen as a member of that community.

The letter has not yet been published and I am not sure whether it will be. The publication has a strict guideline to “keep it local.” I get and respect that (which I noted when I submitted the letter). Either way, writing this piece and pressing the send button was cathartic.

Here is the letter:

I write this as, simply, a community member. I am not part of any organized advocacy effort. I do not myself identify with the folks for whom I wish to advocate. All this is part of the point. 

I write to urge folks like me to make some effort to be more visible, in Evanston, in support of our transgender citizens. To resist the national efforts to erase transgender and nonbinary folks from society and make their lives less safe.

We are fortunate to live in a community where there are resources and organizations to support LGBTQ+ folks, their health and safety. Thank you for all the work you do. 

But I am prompted to write this to find more ways to be visible in contributing to the kind of community Evanston is, and should be, and to not depend upon leaders and organizations in the community to do the work we hope to be done.

I am distraught by the heartlessness and cruelty that is unfolding. I get that there may be aspects of gender identity and how it plays out in our local lives that may create tension and differences in how to address them. But these are merely complex problems; they are not reason to make an entire population of our community disappear. Or to not let them see a path to a happy, healthy life.

I don’t have a specific ask of the community. Perhaps folks might make recommendations in the comments to this letter. 

What I want the Evanston transgender and LGBTQ+ community to know is that – you may see me around town, and have no idea what a 70 year old white guy like me is thinking. 

Now you do. And I urge others to join me in being more visible in your support.

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Note: The photographs which accompany these posts are taken by me, and show different settings and views of Evanston (where I live). It is a visual reminder that this is the most important setting for belonging and contributing to community; my neighborhood, my city.