I can't explain it, but I wouldn't change this

Text

I used to do panels

sitting in front of a room full of strangers

introduced as queers

to university students some staring at us in fear

as though their teacher had just said

today’s guest speakers are murderers

or aliens from another planet

we’d reassure them

we don’t bite, unless you ask and we like you

ask us anything

if it’s too personal or inappropriate

we might not answer, but go ahead and ask

back when we were more rare on tv

we were the faces

the first time many of them knew

they were in the same room as a queer

privacy is a luxury of privilege

and we were opening up to such scrutiny

to try to prove our humanity

for maybe future equal rights

or at least so the next queer they met

would have it easier

they’d ask about our coming out

our dating and sex lives, our families

and especially our parents

occasionally convinced they’d figured out

why we were gay, they hadn’t

sometimes they’d ask

why not try harder to be straight

or if we could take a magic pill to change

perplexed and confused by our answer, no

even with the prejudice, discrimination, hate

it was hard to explain

but I wouldn’t want to be different than I am

the world should be different, not me


as a child some places would make me sick

sounds could strike and hurt

sometimes even a person talking normally

was so loud and painful I’d wince

other noises I wouldn’t notice at all

most light is fine, but a few kinds are brutal

one store in particular was wrong

I’d feel wrong and it was terrifying

and no one cared, brushing it off

telling me I was fine, to stop complaining

until I started screaming

this store is killing me, we have to leave

I tried too hard to be normal, to fit in

for years until I realized the impossibility

normal people don’t have to work that hard at it

the best I could do is fake it

and that was exhausting

I was asked why I was so weird

what was wrong with me

and I never understood why

didn’t see the connection

among all my bizarre random quirks

finally vindicated well into adulthood

when I was diagnosed autistic

my mother apologized

for not believing me

about certain stores hurting me

and I apologized

for being an absolute nightmare

to pack a school lunch for

but I wouldn’t want to change my brain

trade it for a typical one, not now

I can’t explain it

as different, odd, sometimes difficult that it is

I wouldn’t want to be different than I am

the world should change, not me


the most incredulous and passionate argument

I’ve had about not wanting to change a different part of me

was about with my physical disability

which granted sometimes it frustrates me

and causes me physical pain

but I would not have lived my life

been the person I am without this

my path, experiences, perspective

how I move through life

how I move through each day

shaped by something from which I can’t separate

and it’s one I really don’t know how to explain

but I wouldn’t want to give up being me

the challenge and creativity of so many workarounds

why “fix” another kind of existence

when the world could change to be more welcoming


These are a few of my parts

a few of the ones that don’t fit

what others have wanted me to be

a source of dissonance, frustration

being out of place

maybe without one place for all I am

but it feels so simple to me

hearing the why can’t you refrain

I remember those moments

the confused, perplexed faces

and not being able to explain

but just saying it, no

I wouldn’t want to change this

for an easier life

but the world should change

it shouldn’t be so hard to accept us



Deborah Chava Singer (she/her)