November 2026
Dear Spencer Pride Community,
For my first Executive Director’s letter, I wanted to write about memory.
This month, on November 20, we observe Transgender Day of Remembrance, a time to honor transgender people whose lives have been lost to violence and hate. The observance began when activist Gwendolyn Ann Smith organized a vigil to honor the memory of Rita Hester, a transgender woman who was murdered in 1998. It’s developed into an annual movement around the world.
Transgender Day of Remembrance is, in many ways, about loss. But it is also about memory, history, and creating change.
It asks us important questions: What stories are we retelling? What histories are we preserving? Who needs to be remembered? And what about?
These are questions that shape communities, organizations, and our own individual lives. We often talk about history as though it is a single story, a fixed record of what happened. In reality, history is a collection of memories, perspectives, and experiences. What gets remembered and preserved becomes part of the story that future generations inherit.
The truth is that all of us will one day be gone. What remains are the stories people share about us. What will we be remembered for? What will we have contributed? Whose lives will be different because we were here?
For LGBTQ+ communities, these questions feel especially important. Too often, our histories have been erased, dismissed, or simply never documented at all. Countless stories have been lost.
Yet, our stories matter.
They help us understand the challenges people faced, the courage it took to live authentically, and the ways communities came together to create belonging. Stories remind us that history is not made by famous people, wars, or technological changes. It is also made by ordinary people, living ordinary lives, doing small things to make life better.
Recently, I’ve found myself looking to history for comfort.
To celebrate Halloween
- I watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
- I find interesting terms in Swardspeak, a Filipino language created by queer communities to communicate with each other in a safe way.
- I read about Hijras, an ancient and modern gender in south Asia.
- I listen to the stories of Chibados and know that trans and gender-expansive communities have always existed.
I see countless examples of allies sticking up for queer folk and us all working together to keep communities safe and celebrated.
This history is long; this history spans across cultures; this history is global.
It is also local.
Every day, I park my car in a parking lot overlooked by a mural of Vicki Laine. I pass bookshelves installed in our Rex G. Hinkle LGBTQ+ Library and Archive. I go through a box of old newspaper copies of The Works, a queer Indianapolis paper from the 1980s. I shuffle through previous pride festival t-shirts during our very own 20-year anniversary.
But mostly, I listen to you all. I listen to our community members’ stories of resilience, survival, joy, friendship, and care. And I know, we are already doing the essential work of memory.
And I’d like to encourage you to continue the work with us.
Tell your story. Share your memories. Write down your experiences through our Coming Out Stories Project so they can become part of the historical record we are building together. If you have photographs, event materials, newspaper clippings, letters, or other items that help tell the story of LGBTQ+ life in our community, consider donating them to the commUnity Center so they can be preserved for future generations.
The archive we are building belongs to all of us. Its history is only as rich as the stories we choose to save, because one day, someone will want to know what LGBTQ+ life looked like here during our time.
They will want to know who organized the first events, who advocated for change, who showed up as volunteers, who built community, and who created spaces where people could gather as their authentic selves. They will want to know not only what happened, but who made it happen.
When future generations look back at this moment in history, they will ask questions. What did people do when books were being removed from shelves? How did LGBTQ+ people find community, healthcare, support, and belonging? Who helped create spaces where people felt safe, valued, and celebrated? Who stood up and chose to build something better?
I am confident they will be able to find those answers here, because we are creating memories and preserving our histories.
They will know that LGBTQ+ people and their friends lived here, loved here, celebrated here, grieved here, and built community here. They will know that this community was strengthened by volunteers, advocates, neighbors, and allies who believed that everyone deserves dignity, belonging, and the freedom to be themselves.
Memory is not simply about the past. It is an investment in the future.
As we observe Transgender Day of Remembrance this month, let us honor those whose stories were cut short. Let us remember those whose contributions shaped our lives. And let us commit ourselves to preserving the stories being written around us every day.
Because one day, these stories will become history.
And history deserves to remember us well.
Jake Taylor
Executive Director
Spencer Pride
