Over the past four weeks, I’ve remained close to home, venturing out only when Brad accompanies me. I’ve avoided meeting friends at coffee shops — spaces where ICE has targeted African Americans and immigrant communities. My doctoral work has been confined to my living room and bedroom. I live with a persistent fear for my safety: the fear of being separated from Brad and my family, of disappearing without trace.

My emotions mirror grief — a tug-of-war between sadness, anger, acceptance and depression, cycling endlessly through these states. I struggle to reconcile this reality with my identity as a free-spirited, freedom-loving person. How does my existence in this “blue city” as a queer activist and minister who has challenged and will continue to challenge the Trump administration ali

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