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Identity

A message to my fellow Christians: I hope you're having a super uncomfortable Pride month

I know from painful, hard-earned experience what discomfort can do to change minds.

Two people smiling together wearing Pride gear

Nobody should live in fear.

This post was originally published on Substack. You can find it here.

I was a small town, conservative girl when my husband and I relocated to Orlando, Florida. I spent my time going from work to the barn, work to the barn, crying as I brushed my horse's mane.

"I'll never make friends in this town,” I sobbed over the phone with my mom one night.

The next day at work, I met Matt.

He had a brilliant smile and a southern drawl and he sounded like home. He loved horses, too, having spent years doing rodeo. Our friendship was instant and easy.

He visited the barn and taught me how to lasso. I picked up his favorite latte on the way to work. And on our lunch breaks, he would gush all about the love of his life, Jesse. I assumed Jesse was a girl, but that assumption turned out to be wrong. When we all met for lunch one day, I couldn't conceal my shock.

"Oh my GOSH, Matt! You're gay?"


"Um, DUH." He laughed. “Did the cowboy hat throw you off?”

I then remembered he had recently pointed out a bar a few blocks from my house. He mentioned that it was a fun place to go, and I replied that one day we should….but I hadn’t noticed the rainbow details.

"MK, your gay-dar isn't malfunctioning. It's completely nonexistent."

Matt and Jesse told me funny stories about drag contests and bouncers who wore shorty shorts. They insisted I would love Thursday night karaokes, but I assured them it wasn't my scene.

I blushed and giggled a little at the idea. It sounded fun, if not a bit scandalous.

Two people smiling together wearing Pride gear

Pride is not just some party.

Mary Katherine Backstrom

A week or so after that hilarious lunch date, I was driving home from a friend’s house, when I witnessed a young lady get struck by a car. I swerved to the side of the road and jumped out of my vehicle, screaming.

In an instant, people poured out of the bar to assist in the emergency. I barely registered that they were dressed flamboyantly. Their make up didn't strike me as strange. In that moment, we were all scared human beings. Their hearts were racing just like mine.

A drag queen cradled the woman’s head in his hands as I called the police.

“Don’t move, baby girl,” he comforted the woman. “Don’t mess up these pretty braids.”

It was a fraction of a moment that felt like forever. I can still hear her crying for Momma. Thankfully, the club was a block from the hospital. The ambulance arrived in an instant.

When the lights and sirens finally faded, my adrenaline couldn’t handle silence. It was like every one of us had been shaken like soft drinks, and in that moment, we had all cracked open. There were hugs and prayers exchanged between strangers. I remember someone humming a hymn.

Then slowly, one by one, the crowd dispersed. We had to go back to our lives. But not before exchanging a couple of phone numbers, promising to disperse any updates.

I called my friends, Matt and Jesse. I knew the gay community was a close one and I wondered if they had heard any news.

Matt asked around, but didn’t hear much.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “We will know more tomorrow.”

I decided to stay up until then.

The next morning, we all went to breakfast with the drag queens who had started a text thread for updates. We bonded over hash browns and our collective trauma—and after coffee, just some regular life stories.

The woman, we learned, was in critical condition. Two broken legs and a fractured spine. James, who had cradled her head so gently, had probably saved her life. Turns out, he had done so with great intention because not only was he a drag queen, but once a month he returned to his rural hometown to serve as a medic for the volunteer fire department.

A hero. An absolute gem of a human.

Two years later, those same gentle heroes were working their jobs at Pulse when a hate-crazed terrorist made his way through the doors with a semi-automatic rifle. When he first started shooting, some patrons kept dancing.

They thought it was part of the music.

That detail never fails wreck my heart.

They kept dancing.

They just wanted to dance.

I’ll never forget the pit in my stomach as I stared at my phone through the night. Praying each name in that years-long text thread was sleeping at home in their beds. After four sleepless nights, we received confirmation—two of the group had been working. Both had escaped and survived the massacre.

But it wasn’t a happy ending.

An act of hate forever changed their lives, and they were deeply, irreversibly altered. One turned to drugs and the other disappeared. I pray he is still alive, somewhere.

But, yes. They survived. Thank God, I should say.

In an act of terror that killed 49 and hurt scores more, they were the lucky ones.

But when I think of that word...”lucky”.

God, it honestly pisses me off.

That’s how low the bar is, y’all. That’s where we are as a society.

Our gay friends are sometimes just lucky to survive.

How can this be who we are?

If you talk to the LGBTQ community, and I mean really get to know them, you will hear a whole lot of heart breaking versions of what they consider to be “lucky.”

Their parents didn’t disown them. They are lucky.

They haven’t been physically assaulted. Lucky.

They survived a terrorist attack.

Lucky.

I am so deeply over this shit.

Nobody, nobody should live in fear. Nobody should feel lucky that they’ve avoided physical abuse, or emotional abuse, or my Lord, mass murder.

Six short years after the Pulse shooting, what is it going to take?

Look how broken America is. Look what this hate has cost us.

And look at the religious mouthpieces for hate who are becoming more and more emboldened.

Just last week, I posted a meme celebrating the beginning of Pride. It said:

Wishing all the homophobes a SUPER uncomfortable month!

I post it every year and I usually laugh my butt off. It’s too easy to predict all the comments. It’s the same old crap, different mouths, every year.

“Well, that’s not very Christlike.”

“I don't hate anyone! I hate the sin, but I don’t hate the sinner.”

“Ohhhhhh, well who is intolerant now?”

This year, I am truly done laughing. I used to abide this shit, but to be honest, I really can’t do it, anymore. I’ve read and I’ve lived through enough horrible history to understand this terrible truth: Polite hate is the most dangerous kind of hate. It loads the gun, then just backs away quietly.

Christians, please, open your eyes. It’s two thousand and freaking twenty four. I know that you know exactly how this works. You don’t get a pass for good manners.

I won’t let you hide behind pat platitudes when your beliefs give motive to terrorists.

You don’t get to say “it’s the sin that I hate” when that mantra makes bullets for terrorists.

And yah, I guess you could call me intolerant. Smack that sticker on my forehead, I don’t care. For years, I have tolerated far too much from the bigoted backrow Baptists. But the paradox of tolerance states that if a society's practice of tolerance is inclusive of the intolerant…in the end, intolerance will win the day.

And that’s exactly how people die dancing.

So yah, not only do I wish the homophobes reading an incredibly uncomfortable month—I hope this discomfort convicts your soul, and makes you question EVERYTHING. I hope the itch in your spirit spreads to places you can’t bend over to scratch.

I hope enough people walk away from your screeching that you are left alone with your hate. And I hope that hate makes you sick to your stomach when you realize the harm it has caused.

Being gay is not a sin. And Pride is not some party.

It’s a courageous protest that weak minded fearful bigots just can’t comprehend.

It’s authenticity in the face of oppression. Vulnerability in the face of violence.

Pride is the spirit of millions of people who have chosen to dance in the crosshairs.

Growing up in the church, I was frequently told that there are evil forces at work. That these forces were fighting against God’s will, and causing harm to His people. Now, I can see that the threat was true, but it was coming from inside the house.

There are evil, hateful forces at work right now…against the LGBTQ community. Some of those forces look like Saints when they’re hiding behind stained glass.

It’s gonna take a force, equal and opposite in power and passion, to turn the church around. So, if you’re a Christian who has been fence-sitting this issue, it’s time to get off the damn fence.

This June, I beg you to look past the prejudice and the preaching you’ve had crammed down your throat your whole life. Look past your anger, and your pastor’s fear. Look at these beautiful humans. Trying with all their hearts to claim the dignity and love and safety that they, as humans, deserve.

This?

THIS is what you are scared of?

These are the forces of evil?

If that’s what you think then, my friend, you’ve been brainwashed.

I get it. I was brainwashed, too.

But all along, I deep down in my heart, I knew there was something amiss. I couldn’t quite rationalize what I knew of God’s love with the hate I saw coming from church.

For twenty years, I was too afraid to challenge my faith. I thought that it might fall apart.

But that is EXACTLY why I wish all the homophobes a SUPER uncomfortable month. Because I know from painful, hard-earned experience what discomfort can do to change minds.

So, instead of doubling down on your hateful theology…I ask you, non-affirming Christians, in the name of our faith. In the name of God’s love.

Will you please put your weapons down?

Will you consider the lesson that I learned on the street in front of Pulse so many years ago?

Will you feel the heartbeats of your fellow humans, and for once SEE YOURSELF IN THEM?

I beg you to try.

I beg you to grow.

It’s already been far too late.

You can follow Mary Katherine Backstrom on Facebook, Instagram and TikTok.

@callmebelly/TikTok

An excellent reminder to show kindness and patience.

Listening to a baby cry during a flight might be aggravating, but it’s nothing compared to the moans, groans, and eyerolls that the baby's parents must endure from other passengers when it happens. No matter what tips and tricks are used to try to soothe a little one’s temperament while 30,000 miles in the air, crying is almost inevitable. So, while having to ease their own child’s anxiety, moms and dads also must suffer being the pariah of the trip. What a nightmare.

Recently, one mom was apparently trying so hard to avoid upsetting her fellow flight members that she went above and beyond to essentially apologize ahead of time if her baby began to cry on its first flight. It was a gesture that, while thoughtful, had folks really feeling for how stressed that poor mom must be.

In a clip posted to his TikTok, one of the passengers—Elliot—explained that the mom handed out small care packages to those nearby.

“She’s already so busy and took the time to make these bags for everyone,” Elliot said, before panning the camera to reveal a Ziplock bag full of candy, along with a note that made him “want to cry.”

The note read: “It’s my first flight. I made a deal to be on my best behaviour—but I can’t make any guarantees. I might cry if I get scared or if my ears start to hurt. Here are some treats to make your flight enjoyable. Thank you for being patient with us. Have a great flight.”

Like Elliot, those who watched the video felt some ambivalence at the well intentioned act. Many felt remorse that she would feel the need to appease people in this way.

“This is so sweet but also … kind of breaks my heart that we live in a world in which parents feel the need to do that.”

“Because jerk people have shamed parents into believing that they need to apologize for their kids' absolutely normal behavior. What a gem of a mom.”

“You know that sweet mom worried about this trip so much.”

“That poor mom probably spent nights awake … nervous about that flight, thinking of ways to keep strangers happy.”

"That's a mom trying so hard."

Many rallied behind the mom, arguing that making others feel more comfortable with her child being on board was in no way her responsibility.

“No mom should be apologizing. Adults can control their emotions … babies not …. Hugging this mom from a distance.”

“Dear new parents: no you don’t have to do this. Your babies have the right to exist. We all know babies cry. We know you try your best.”

Luckily, there are just as many stories of fellow passengers being completely compassionate towards parents with small children—from simply choosing to throw on their headphones during a tantrum (instead of throwing one themselves) to going out of their way to comfort a baby (and taking the load of a parent in the process). These little acts of kindness make more of an impact than we probably realize. Perhaps if we incorporated more of this “it takes a village” mindset, flying could be a little bit more pleasant for everyone involved.

carowendelinart/Instagram

A beautiful gift, indeed.

It’s amazing what values, wisdom, and even talents we bestow upon our kids simply by leading by example. Artist Caroline Wendelin got to experience this firsthand when her four-year-old daughter, who also loves painting and has spent a lot of time in Wendelin's studio ever since she was born, decided to make her very own canvas art as a gift to mom.

In an interview with PEOPLE, Wendelin shared that her daughter had mostly only used tempera sticks on small canvases and normal paper, but since seeing mom handle acrylics on big canvases, she wanted to give that a go.

So Wendelin gave her a large canvas, some acrylic paints, and let her go to work only offering guidance when asked, with suggestions like “maybe you can try adding the same colour but a few shades darker”, “would you like to add some circles or lines?”, or “have you tried covering all the white parts?” but mostly she just provided a loving container for her daughter to express herself and follow her imagination.

And truly, the results speak for themselves. The work is beyond a kid painting (not that regular kid paintings aren’t special in their own way). The composition, the color, everything is so meticulous and well done. Talk about a great gift. It’s totally understandable that Wendelin, who normally keeps things like this private, decided to share it online.

Since posting the video, which has been viewed over 8 million times, Wendelin’s daughter has received an outpouring of love, which Wendelin thinks is due to “her genuine joy while she's painting.”

“It brings a lot of people back to childhood memories, myself included."

She’s not wrong, judging by some of these comments. One person wrote, “Literally the physical representation of girlhood I remember when my mind looked like this also,” while another echoed, “How colorful the world is through the eyes of a child.”

Others were just impressed by the girls’ next-level skills

“Her use of color is INSANE. This looks like a David Hockney landscape. I just looked it up, David Hockney's landscapes he did in 4th grade look similar but are not quite as insane as what your daughter did...she's FOUR.”

“I’m obsessed with her style. She has a very clear voice 😍💖✨”

“Her concept of color theory is insane.”

You could chalk it up to artistic talent just running in the family, but there’s something to be said about how much of an impact it makes when kids are given the proper environment to explore their talents and interests—allowed to figure things out on their own, but still given proper guidance when they seek it out, and of course seeing adults setting good examples.

By the way, if you love this painting as much as everyone else does, prints of it will be available in a few days! Wendelin says that all proceeds will be for her daughter’s savings account for her future. Go to Wendelin’s website or follow her on Instagram to stay in the loop.

Joy

MoonPie renames Florida 'MoonPieTown' because apparently 'We can just do this now!'

A tweet from the company says the change is "effective immediately."

MoonPieTown? Might as well.

When the President of the United States changes the name of the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America as one of his very first actions in office, you know we're living in unprecedented times. The fact that the world has called the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of Mexico for 400 years and that the name change only affects people in the U.S. doesn't matter. Changing the name of a major geographical feature by executive decree was clearly seen as a vital, first-day-in-office priority.

Why? Excellent question. Another excellent question is how have we found ourselves in a version of the U.S. where there's a bill—an actual, official, "sitting here on Capitol Hill" bill—introduced to the House of Representatives "to authorize the President to enter into negotiations to acquire Greenland and to rename Greenland as 'Red, White, and Blueland?'” Taking over Greenland and renaming it Red, White, and Blueland. This is where we are. Might as well rename ourselves The United States of Absurdity at this point.

One of the ways people cope in unprecedentedly absurd times is humor, which is why a tweeted announcement from MoonPie, the famous chocolate-covered marshmallow cookie company of all places, has grabbed people's attention.

"Effective immediately," the tweet reads above a screenshot of a branded letter from the company.

The letter says:

To whom it may concern,

Thanks to recent geographical updates, we are excited to announce that the land mass previously known as Florida will now be referred to as MoonPieTown.

"But Florida is a state," you say. No, Florida was a state. Now it's MoonPieTown. We can just do this now!

Please continue to enjoy our delicious marshmallow sandwiches and don't think too much about it. :)

MoonPie

MoonPieTown is cute, but the "We can just do this now!" is the funny bone punch. It was a risky move, though. Some people found the announcement hilariously on point, while others vowed that they would never eat a MoonPie again. Apparently some were downright offended by the company's little jab at the executive branch.

In some ways, tweets like this are filling the void left by the loss of political cartoons, which served as an outlet for political parody and snark for centuries but have largely fallen by the wayside with the demise of print media. Political cartoons are still around, but the average person is far more likely to see a viral social media post making a political statement with humor than they are a cartoon these days. And humor, for better or for worse, has long been a vital coping tool for people dealing with political upheaval.

political cartoon of two men cutting up the earthA political cartoon from 1805Public Domain

"In the 19th century, the main form of political humor would be cartoons, and some were quite brilliant, biting, and powerful,” says Dr. Patrick Giamario, associate professor of political science at University of North Carolina Greensboro. “In the 20th century, we saw late night TV hosts and a few comedians doing HBO comedy specials. That brings us to where we are now. Everyone can engage in X memes and trolling. They can make funny videos on TikTok."

Giamario explores how political humor has evolved in his book “Laughter as Politics: Critical Theory in an Age of Hilarity” and says laughter over the political landscape is "a symptom of this time we’re in, with a lot up for grabs."

Humor in politics has long been a source of controversy, prompting questions about whether political issues should be taken more seriously. Some may argue that laughter in the face of authoritarian power diminishes it. Others argue that humor runs the risk of trivializing serious issues. Giamario warns of another issue in the modern era where humor meets capitalism.

"A lot of humor becomes mere entertainment,” he says. “A late-night TV show host making fun of the president may sound subversive or transgressive because they’re making fun of the most powerful person in the country. But they’re also trying to sell tickets or advertising. It can be quite cynical. Unfortunately, I think that’s where a lot of political humor has gone in the last decade.”

Jimmy Fallon Snl GIF by Saturday Night LiveGiphy

However, he says, approaching political humor with intention and introspection can help people analyze its impact.

“What’s promising about laughter is its aesthetic effect,” says Giamario. “It shakes people, quite literally, in a physical sense. It shakes the body out of conventional, existing ways of thinking, whether it’s social, political, religious, or something else.”

Does a silly little tweet about MoonPieTown shake people's thinking? Maybe, maybe not. It does, however, provide a little comic relief for those who feel overwhelmed by the political tsunami washing over America, and maybe that's all we need from a cookie pie company.

@sva_feenstra/TikTok

Can you blame him, though?

For every picky eater out there, there is also a kid whose love for that one food item knows no bounds. Remember “Corn Kid” and “Pickle Girl”? Seems like they’ve met their match with Bronx, a 22-month-old with a red-hot passion for Hidden Valley ranch dressing…which coincidentally goes great with both corn and pickles, but that’s neither here nor there.

In a viral video captured by Bronx’s mom, Savannah Feenstra, we see the adorable toddler filling up his kiddie shopping cart to the brim with the popular condiment—along with a singular bottle of ketchup. Perhaps he was planning on jazzing things up a bit by mixing them together. Who knows.

As Feenstra explained in her onscreen text, she had told her baby boy that he could “pick a treat,” and this was his choice, apparently. Needless to say, she couldn’t help but crack up.

Watch:

While Feenstra mentioned in an interview with PEOPLE she didn’t end up buying all the bottles Bronx put in his cart (since that would mean emptying the store, essentially) she did buy in bulk, since they were on sale, joking that “After all, he spotted a good deal!"

All in all, people totally got on board with little Bronx’s ranch obsession.

"I’d choose the same thing," one person wrote, while another said, "Little guy has impeccable taste."

Even Hidden Valley Ranch entered the chat, writing "Smart kid," in the comments section.

And just how much does Bronx love ranch dressing? According to a follow-up video…enough to drink it straight. Yep, you read that right.

While this might be off-putting to some, Bronx found himself in good company.

“This is my spirit animal,” one viewer wrote.

Another echoed, "I found my twin.”

What can ya do, ranch is just one of those polarizing food items that people generally either get grossed out by, or want to bathe in. Bronx clearly falls into the latter category. In fact, a lot of kids like it for its rich, creamy, milky texture and mild taste.

And in case you're concerned, Feenstra also assured PEOPLE that Bronx “doesn’t live on ranch," and actually has “quite the refined palate for such a little guy,” with favorite foods ranging from blueberries, to avocados, to bananas, to hamburgers and shrimp. Though she did not specify which of these foods he probably drowns in the ranch.

And hopefully that love for ranch doesn’t run out any time soon, since Hidden Valley has apparently arranged to “send Bronx a gift.” We’re hoping for at least a 6 month supply for the wee fella.

It’s just so wholesome to see how kids can have such a pure, unadulterated joy for the simplest things, be it food, nature, a song, a color, you name it. And even more wholesome to see parents who support their adoration. Hopefully we can all find something to love as much as this little boy loves his ranch.

Science

Innovative farm in Virginia can grow 4 million pounds of strawberries on less than one acre

This method uses 97 percent less land and up to 90 percent less water than conventional farming.

A new way to grow strawberries with less land, less water, and more berries.

Strawberry farm harvests aren't something most of us calculate on a regular basis (or ever at all), but the numbers from a strawberry farm in Richmond, Virginia, are staggering enough to make it worth an old-school word problem. If the average American eats 8 pounds of strawberries a year, and an average strawberry farm yields approximately 20,000 pounds of berries per acre, how many people could a 200-acre strawberry field feed?

I won't make you do the math. The answer is 500,000 people. But what if a crop that size, providing enough strawberries for half a million people, could be grown on just one acre instead of 200? It's possible. You just have to go—or rather grow—up, up, up.

Indoor vertical farm company Plenty Unlimited knows a lot about growing up. In fact, it's their entire business model. Instead of the sprawling fields that traditional farming methods require, vertical farms have a much smaller land footprint, utilizing proprietary towers for growing. Plenty has used vertical farming methods to grow greens such as lettuce, kale, spinach and more for years, but now it boasts a vertical berry farm that can yield a whopping 4 million pounds of strawberries on a little less than an acre.

Growing indoors means not being at the mercy of weather or climate inpredictability (barring a storm taking out your building), which is wise in the era of climate change. Unlike a traditional greenhouse which still uses the sun for light, Plenty's indoor vertical farms make use of the latest technology and research on light, pinpointing the wavelengths plants need from the sun to thrive and recreating them with LED lights. Plenty farms also don't use soil, as what plants really need is water and nutrients, which can be provided without soil (and with a lot less water than soil requires). Being able to carefully control water and nutrients means you can more easily control the size, taste and uniformity of the berries you’re growing.

If that sounds like a lot of control, it is. And that idea might freak people out. But when a highly controlled environment means not having to use pesticides and using up to 90% less water than traditional farming, it starts to sound like a solid, sustainable farming innovation.

Plenty even uses AI in its strawberry farm, according to its website:

“Every element of the Plenty Richmond Farm–including temperature, light and humidity–is precisely controlled through proprietary software to create the perfect environment for the strawberry plants to thrive. The farm uses AI to analyze more than 10 million data points each day across its 12 grow rooms, adapting each grow room’s environment to the evolving needs of the plants – creating the perfect environment for Driscoll’s proprietary plants to thrive and optimizing the strawberries’ flavor, texture and size.”

Plenty even has its own patent-pending method of pollinating the strawberry flowers that doesn’t require bees. Even just the fact that this enormous crop of strawberries will be coming from Virginia is notable, since the vast majority of strawberries in the U.S. are grown in California.

strawberry fieldTraditional strawberry farming takes up a lot of land.Photo credit: Canva

Plenty's Richmond farm is currently growing strawberries exclusively for Driscoll’s.

“Partnering with Plenty for the launch of the Richmond Farm allows us to bring our premium strawberries closer to consumers in the Northeast, the largest berry consumption region in the U.S.,” Driscoll’s CEO Soren Bjorn said in a press release. “By combining our 100 years of farming expertise and proprietary varieties along with Plenty’s cutting-edge technology, we can deliver the same consistent flavor and quality our customers love — now grown locally. This new innovative farm is a powerful step forward in continuing to drive category growth in new ways for our customers and consumers.”

Is Plenty’s model the farm of the future? Perhaps it’s one option, at least. The more we grapple with the impact of climate change and outdated, unsustainable farming practices, the more innovative ideas we’ll need to feed the masses. If they can get 4 million pounds of strawberries out of an acre of land, what else is possible?