Jake, They/Them
Jake is a queer chaplain, innkeeper, community organizer, and death educator. Through much of their life Jake has been concerned with questions related to spirituality, connection, and meaning-making both as an individual seeker, and as a matter of discourse and practice within the queer community. They see building queer spiritual communities as the center of their work in the world–lifting up queerness and queer people as beautiful and sacred. When they’re not in chaplain mode you can often find them at Mercury Inn, a small bed and breakfast in Portland that they co-own, co-habitate, and co-operate with one of their partners.
Jake is a big fan of all things science fiction and fantasy, spurned by a deep and abiding childhood love of the X-Men, their favorite story-world metaphor for the queer experience. X-Men taught Jake about the importance of cultivating a sense of self worth and building a chosen family in a world that tries to tear queer people down for our queerness. The lessons learned in reading those silly superhero comics formed the foundation for the community building efforts Jake pursues now.
If you’d like to see the kind of community Jake is trying to build check out the monthly LGBTQ+ Heart Circle hosted at Portland’s Equality Community Center–you can find information on the next circle on the ECC’s calendar, or follow Jake at @theheartfarmer for story announcements and updates.
Joanne and Pam
Pam and Joanne, both life-long Mainers from big families, fell in love on their first date in 1992. Although they were not exact matches if measured against their lists of the perfect partner, both soon found they loved each other for lots of other new and wonderful reasons they had not previously imagined. The newness has faded a bit after 32 years, but the wonderful is still there.
They have lived in Bowdoinham for over 20 years now. Joanne has started sketching and watercolor painting, taking long walks with their dog, Sophie, and volunteers here and there. Pam loves fly fishing, and pickleball and has great plans for more of both when she retires in a couple of years. They have many adventures planned for the future in their teardrop camper and where the fishing takes them.
They have three children, three wonderful grandchildren, and of course the dog.
Jenny, She/Her
“I am a collage artist, poet, singer, nature lover and teacher. Being an educator sits at the very core of my being. I work in Early Childhood and I have always believed that nature is the greatest educator of all. Children can experience awe and wonder from looking up a tree that seems to touch the clouds. They can face challenges, fears and build resilience. They can learn empathy and strength from watching the smallest insect. Nature teaches children how to connect to our world in the most empowering and meaningful ways. ‘As we begin to feel our common bond of life with living things around us, our actions become more harmonious in an unforced, natural way, and we become concerned for the needs and well-being of all creatures.’ - Joseph Cornell ‘Sharing the Joy of Nature’
In the classroom or in nature, I want each child in my care to feel safe, seen, heard and understood. That is our job as educators. We have a responsibility to meet children where they are at. We are there to gently guide and fiercely stand by and support these tiny humans along their journey to being their most true and authentic selves.”
Nick, He/Him
“Maine is my happy place. Our sense of community, and our unqualified capacity to care for one other, are all some of the many things that make Maine special for me. I've spent my entire life here, and I can confidently say that whether you're a new Mainer or your roots trace back generations, Mainers have a special knack for embracing you effortlessly. Being queer and the son of first-generation immigrants has taught me the unabashed joy that can come with living authentically. Despite the coldness of our winters, I'm consistently awestruck by the warmth that permeates this state. I hope that sense of awe never goes away.”
Francesco, He/Him
“The luck of the third adventure. This is the third career of my adult life. My grounding in the United Church of Christ (UCC) is the source of this life-giving growth. As a gay ordained man, I have found a place that welcomes me and encourages my personal and spiritual being. Part of the mission statement at my church reads: ‘We welcome persons of any race, gender, ethnic origin, mental or physical ability, religious tradition, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, and economic circumstance.’ As pastor, I can express my faith in ways that complement my gifts and my spirituality. I am blessed to walk with people in times of crisis and in times of joy.”
Halen, They/Them
“Growing up, I always felt different from the people around me because of my race, but also because of who I’ve always been inside. As a kid in rural Maine, I didn’t have anyone around me who looked or felt like me. In my late teens, I struggled with feeling like I fully belonged in any community. I never fully felt a part of queer spaces or black spaces because I am a biracial bisexual. Over the last two years, I’ve found peace in my intersectionality. I’ve focused on becoming someone I am proud of and not worrying about if I fit in somewhere. The community I have always wished for is now in me and in the people who love me for every part of me.
I think it’s so important for black queer people to nourish and love themselves. Don’t let the worry of expectance stop you from embracing every facet of your identity. Life is too short to spend it trying to squeeze into a box that was not made for you.”
Jae, They/Them or Just Jae
“My life has been enriched beyond measure by examining, experimenting, evolving, and expanding myself in ways that feel true and right. However, being truly seen by others has been a dichotomous struggle for me almost my entire life. Now I guess it’s time to step into the light and love of my queer community. In doing so, I hope to encourage younger queer poets, photographers, makers, and finders to follow their passions wherever they take them. The rest will fall into place. I’d love to connect with other poets and photographers in this community to share feedback and publishing resources if that’s your jam. You can message me at Instagram @jammityjam or email me at casellajm@gmail.com
As a queer elder poet, I take advantage of every opportunity to live proudly in a binary world as a non-binary person. Here's a bit of my poetry:
“Exhausted, I claw at my female skin
worn thin over male bones,
digging to sing my song aloud.” (You can read the rest of Monday Night Choir Boi in Red Rose Thorns Journal)
If you live in the South Portland area – you might see me on one of our gorgeous beaches, swinging my metal detector while I fish in the sand for buried treasures. Sometimes I find nothing at all. But that’s ok. The thrill of seeking is enough for me. You will also frequently see my roly-poly body in board shorts and a tank top, strolling along the shore exclaiming out loud about every shard of glinting sea glass I find. And rocks! How do I choose just one? Other rockhounds will relate! In the long dark days of winter – I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder -aptly acronymed SAD. I knock the sads back by sorting and making things with the treasure trove of stuff I found in the summer sun. I am currently trying my hand at making jewelry, wind chimes, and suncatchers with these artifacts.
My favorite place to be is outside with my camera taking photos of the natural world around me. I have a goal to include more real live people in my photos. I’ve made a start of that with the Cold Water Queers group. I don’t dip in the icy ocean with them, but am a land shark who takes photos of their shenanigans from time to time. If you are interested in freezing your butt off or just having the best fun with other crazy queerios in the area – check out: Cold Water Queers. I love them – you will too! If you want to see some of my photos, feel free to check them out here: JaeCase Photos.
Tessa, She/Her
“I am a community connector, a conversationalist, an activist and a person who likes to put my hands in the dirt.
I graduated from UMaine in 2022 with a Bachelors of Science in Wildlife Ecology and Ecology and Environmental Science, deciding not to use my degree and instead chose to be thrust into farming and the nonprofit world. I have maintained my connections with current and past positions at The Wilson Center, an interfaith based nonprofit in Orono, where I did program coordination, The Nature Based Education Consortium’s Stories for Change Working Group, where I am a co-chair, and Wild Seed Project, where I support their fall seed sale. Recently deciding to call central ME my home, I feel like I’ve never felt more like a rural Mainer at heart.
I am a queer, polyamorous person navigating queer dating in rural ME. I have found community in young spaces, queer spaces, Jewish spaces, outdoor/field/nature based work spaces, circles of folks called to action, outdoor recreation spaces, storytelling spaces, and spaces where differences come together over shared intention. I enjoy all things outdoors- gardening, camping, hiking, hammocking, kayaking and talking to trees especially! I am settling into the early adult stage of life, with an amount of fear and joy that I previously didn’t know could co-exist so well. I am learning that there is no reason to fear asking for help, there is real beauty in showing up as your authentic self and there is necessary connection in community. It’s beautiful that we are allowed to navigate life, and I am happy that I am navigating mine with an amazing support system that spans the state of ME!”
Catia, She/They
“I can no longer distinguish between what constitutes a hobby and what is intrinsically connected to my sense of self. I can tell you things I spend massive amounts of time doing, but I think the application of time makes them more than a hobby. The big ones: roller derby, playwriting, sewing/knitting/attempting to draw comics. Other things I spend lots of time doing: video games, reading sci-fi, thinking about aliens, thinking about liminal spaces, dissecting scripts for TV episodes out of a mixture of imposter syndrome and an unused Theater Arts degree, tying bow ties. Lately, language (especially how we choose one word over another) is taking up a lot of brain space. Which verb choice do I use to talk about learning new things: absorb vs. consume vs. engulf and why is there a variance in passivity vs. aggressiveness tied to each? How does a period at the end of a text change the tone? How we communicate on the roller derby track vs. on the bench. Questions I’ve been enjoying asking people: what is your favorite shape, what does your brain look like as a non-anatomical image, what’s your favorite alien depiction?”
Sage, He/Him
“I am a gay and trans adventurer, artist, dog-dad, and nature-boy, and I’ve chosen to make Maine my home.
In my first decade of adulthood I juggled initiating my gender transition with immersing myself in an outdoor career and lifestyle. Rock climbing, backpacking, and canoeing took me all over the country, relocating to find the next employment or recreational opportunity with every changing season.
My 20’s were defined by transitions - constantly moving from one place and job to the next, while simultaneously experiencing shifts in identity, sexuality, and physical form. Constant upheaval slowly deteriorated my mental health, eventually prompting a change in lifestyle and career. The beauty of Maine’s remote mountains, lakes, and rivers (and marriage to a Mainer) led me to set roots here, where I traded the freedom of my nomadic life for stability. I bravely set out to learn an entirely new trade, becoming a licensed massage therapist, and began the next chapter of my life.
Although I still love and need adventure in my life, I am excited to spend the next decade building myself a robust and comfortable nest: prioritizing authenticity, deepening relationships, expanding my community, caring for myself, building my massage practice, snuggling with my dog and husband, exploring wild places, and making art here in Maine.”
Riley, He/Him
“I started Pride in Movement Physical Therapy after finding myself deeply disenchanted with the insurance model of physical therapy. I didn’t like some non-medical profession dictating how I provide my care, so I’m not letting them anymore. As a cash-pay practice, I get to decide what is best for my patient and guide the session to best support their needs. I’m a mobile practice, so I travel to my patients to decrease barriers of providing care - you don’t have to go anywhere, I come to you - my travel range is on my website but I provide telehealth as well. I provide a wide range of care as well being an orthopedic physical therapist (so, all your general bodily aches and pains) but also a pelvic health PT (another wide range of conditions such as incontinence, pelvic pain, sexual dysfunction, and more). I also enjoy working with populations experiencing chronic pain as I find my approach can help them to understand their pain and help to take back their life from it. You probably already guessed from the name of the business, but I want to specialize in being a queer-affirming provider (though I am happy to treat anyone of any background). As a gay man myself I know the comfort that can be found in working with a provider who understands that part of you and I want to be able to create that space for others in the capacity I can.”
Katie, They/Them
“If there is one thing to know about me, it’s that if there’s something I want to learn, I will find a way to learn it inside and out. This year I taught myself how to tattoo, how to accept help, how to destroy the gender binaries within myself in order to embrace the tumultuous and unending fluctuations of my gender experience, how to make a macrame plant hanger. I’m a good learner, I think that’s why I’ve always been called an artist despite never resonating with the word. I kept learning different outputs of the craft in hopes that the creativity would follow, but it never would.
Then, as if beckoned by the relief of finally being done with my twenties, the answer reveled itself. Turns out all I had to do was completely free myself from expectations - I spent this year becoming confusing, ambiguous, even at times disorienting. I changed my name twice and then doubled back to the birth certificate. I dabbled in extroversion only to banish the extroverts. I self-isolated in order to lament about my loneliness. I acted spiky at times when I had felt soft. I cried in front of my friends for the first time. Somewhere, in all of the chaos, the creativity came, and the title of “artist” began to feel a little less weird.
If you want to see how all of that translates in images, follow my art page @red.planet.ink.”