I had experiences last month with two very different groups who welcomed with abandon. These groups curated belonging like it was second nature. However, from the outside, they look like they should exist at opposite ends of a spectrum. One was the Vacation Bible School (VBS) team at a local United Methodist church, and the other, a local drag show & brunch fundraiser. But before I tell you those stories, let me tell you a little about how I became this person who volunteers at a VBS and attends a drag show in the same weekend. Learning by Watching I was raised Catholic, and both of my parents worked for the church we attended. My mom was the director of religious education, and my dad the director of music. For my siblings and I, the church was our second home, and the people at church were our second family. When I share with people that I was raised “very catholic,” the image it conjures in their minds usually misses the mark. I don’t mean rigid dogma or strict rules requiring hourly rosaries. What I do mean is that we spent a lot of time at church and that my parents taught us, through their actions, that all life is inherently sacred and valuable. And that because every person’s life is sacred, that human dignity is inalienable — meaning it is given, not earned, and it cannot be taken away for any reason; not poverty, illness, disability, skin color, being an immigrant, having a different sexuality or gender, being in prison, or for any other reason. I will never forget the night my older sister, who was a year ahead of me in school, brought a friend home for dinner. He had messy black hair that spiked a few inches off his head, dark eyeliner, bold outlined lips, and heavy metal jewelry. I watched my mom’s eyes widen in initial surprise when they met, but within a split second, her face rearranged into a warm, genuinely welcoming smile. She told him how nice it was to meet him, and we spent the evening visiting around the table. My parents didn’t demand conformity. They didn’t preach to me and my siblings about accepting and welcoming people different than us. They showed us with their actions; with the way they made people feel welcome, included, and protected. Beliefs which alienate vs. include As I looked for a spiritual home as an adult, it was hard to find a church that felt like what I experienced growing up. It felt like trying to locate one unique grain of sand on the vast ocean floor. Along the way, I came across too many examples of faith and religion being held up as rationale for alienating and vilifying people who live or believe differently. I couldn’t help but wonder how the foundation had slipped so far away from loving our neighbor and valuing the dignity in all life. My family eventually found our home in a Jesuit parish with a strong focus on social justice, and I am continually thankful to the friend who introduced us to this community. A few months ago, I came upon another faith-based community which made me feel at home - and this is the one I’m going to tell you about today. This is going to sound like the beginning of a joke… What happens when an Israeli Jewish woman, a lesbian couple, a Catholic, and their families show up at a United Methodist church to volunteer for Vacation Bible School (VBS)? Magic. That’s what happens. Entering this community felt like walking into a warm hug. There were no rules about who fit and who didn’t. No gatekeepers making sure we conformed to their version of faith. And no rigid doctrine deciding who was “in” vs. who was “out.” To me, the ultimate expression of faith is expanding the table to include everyone, without any pressure to conform. Sharing our own beliefs and values in a way that welcomes someone to explore, while in parallel showing genuine interest in who the other person is, and being willing to shape our own beliefs based on what we learn from them. Ministry at this church was space-making; not gatekeeping. They drew people in, and made them feel like they belong. They demonstrated what it means to value all life, unconditionally. Here are a few things that stood out to me. * The church staff was excited and positively blown away by my friend’s ability to bring in such diverse volunteers from outside their community. They weren’t awkward or stressed out about interacting with people different from them - they were jazzed by it. * My kiddos volunteered and were warmly invited to join social post-camp activities with other teen volunteers. Disability was not a barrier. There was no hesitation in the invitation. The attitude seemed to be, ‘of course they should join us!” * The staff checked in with me and my kids on physical accommodations, volunteer roles, and to make sure they had everything they needed to feel supported. Not just for the VBS itself, but for the post-camp teen fun as well. * My kiddo with a disability and I pre-planned how she would navigate the transition between floors (peeling off from the group to take the elevator) because we assumed the rest of the group would take the stairs. However, a child using a wheelchair was placed in her group, and one of the leaders took them plus a small group of peers on the elevator route together. No isolation. It just became that small group’s main route. * They don’t charge anything for the week-long event. They don’t require families to be members of the church. They open their space to anyone who wishes to be there. When churches and organizations act with this level of care, they draw people in. It makes people want to be part of the beautiful community they have built. Celebration of Individualization The week of these events, I spent all day Saturday helping set up for VBS, and then on Sunday, I dressed up in my bold, shiny gold and black floral jacket, jumped into my bright yellow VW bus, picked up some friends, and headed downtown for ‘Wigs & Waffles.’ We arrived early and joined the queue outside the event. It was my first time attending, and I’d worried about what to wear. People told me that anything was acceptable, but I have a tendency to overthink this type of thing. However, I should not have been concerned. The dress code was, indeed, a celebration of individualization. The only requirement was to be yourself… boldly! People were there, first and foremost, to build, support, and celebrate the diversity in our community. Some people dressed casually, while others were decked out in wigs and fancy clothes. Bodies of all shapes, sizes, and abilities were cheered, gender and sexuality were normalized, and people were free to express themselves and their uniqueness. And the welcoming environment didn’t stop there. The organizers had a sign language interpreter on the stage, translating every song lyric and speech in real time. There was an elevator to transport people to the upper floor venue, and the path to the bathrooms was ramped allowing everyone independent access. Equally refreshing was the culture generated by the crowd itself. Attendees seemed to default to assuming the best of one another. Bumping into someone was met with immediate grace. Needing a seat prompted strangers to automatically scoot over. Even a minor seating mix-up near the runway was resolved with a kind word and a polite shift, entirely devoid of entitlement. The true test of this community came when a logistical glitch caused the food supply to run out before everyone was served. In many spaces, scarcity breeds tension. Here, however, the organizers addressed the issue head-on, communicated transparently, and made it right. The crowd’s collective grace mirrored the structural care of the hosts, creating a room where everyone felt looked after. Joyfully Embracing Differences Drag culture is often misunderstood or politicized, but in reality it is the embodiment of inclusion, accessibility, and radical acceptance. At its core, a drag show is about the freedom to be who you are and express yourself without limits. They are some of the most organically inclusive environments I’ve experienced. * Differences are not only accepted, they are intentionally amplified. * Audiences are encouraged to cheer uniqueness, not what makes people fit in. * Gender stereotypes are upended, unmasking broader truths about society. * Social norms are challenged, making more people feel seen and empowered. Drag shows embrace joy as a rebellious act, and seem to deeply understand that visibility is vital to survival and belonging. As I prepared to write this, I came across this gem of an article: “Why are Drag Shows Radical Spaces for Inclusion?” by Sarah Bryan. I found my head nodding up and down, and my brain exclaiming, ‘yes!” as I read her words; confirming that my experience at Wigs & Waffles was not unique - it’s the norm. I recommend reading the whole piece, but have captured a particularly poignant quote below about the author’s experience at a drag show with friend, who has, as she calls is, “Get Down Syndrome.” :) “Too often, joy is treated as a privilege, something you earn by fitting in, rather than something you’re inherently worthy of. Joy does not have to be rationed or conditional. It can be freely offered, echoed, and amplified. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness, no need to explain or justify our friend’s presence or participation. Her celebration wasn’t a side note; it was central. That’s what emotional inclusion looks like: being met with enthusiasm, not tolerance. With recognition, not exception. It’s the kind of welcome that says, You don’t just belong here. You elevate this space by being in it.” ~Sarah Bryan Historic Parallels As I worked to assemble my thoughts on these experiences, the concept of visibility being vital to survival and belonging crystalized in my mind. When people are hidden away, or when people feel they have to hide part of themselves to belong, we cannot achieve a society w
