The LGBT Community: The Explanation Of The LGBT World

Imagine the universe. It is the finite infinity of everything, impossible to define, yet with more definitions than any other concept in the history of human thought. We break it into pieces, categorizing and assessing, naming, and guessing histories. Each of these categories is meaningful, but also pointless without the context of the rest, the maw of existence, because its existence is not made of our definitions. Our obsession with categorizing the infinite appears throughout our society, such as carefully naming each asteroid that passes by Earth, or the thousands of gods used to explain the world around us, or perhaps most commonly, choosing the entire human race, and trying to define each person inside of it. Communities are our own little

There are people arguing that Pluto should still be a planet, and those who just as freely debate “who is really part of the LGBT community?” What I have found in my own personal experiences with both of these communities is that for many people, categorization is an immovable certainty. The definitions are decisive, even if they are not clear, and this is what differentiates a group of people from a community. Thirty people standing in a room is nothing. Thirty people standing in a room who are aware and focused on the idea that they are the ones standing in the room and that this is significant, are a community, because defining “community” is like defining parts of the universe. While they act and exist independently of us, communities and planets only exist in our minds once we find them, and once found we don’t always agree on what’s there. This is why one of the most heated debates in the LGBT+ community is over who is allowed to be included. Some claim that it is an open group for anyone to join, while others insist that transgender people aren’t “real”, and then others claim that asexual or aromantic people lack the history of persecution to be a part of the community. Our realization that something exists does not mean we understand it, or even know what it is. In the LGBT+

Even if our limited human understandings fail to define communities, this does not stop human connections from forming. Communities provide for their members an identity, and more importantly, a sense of belonging and a set of principles to fall back on. We look to those around us for answers, and we trust most the answers we get from those we identify with. These forms our morals, our traditions, our beliefs, and our likes and dislikes, allowing us to discover safer worlds that have already been explored by those similar to us, and follow in their footsteps. The LGBT+ community can be controversial, but it can also change and even save lives. I’ve seen people kicked out of their homes by intolerant family be offered a couch in a stranger’s living room because of the connection they share. The number of tutorial videos and informative blogs about how to best stay safe in hostile environments, or apply makeup, or bind without breaking your ribs, is enormous and without a sense of community they would never be shared, because as far as anyone would know, there would be no one else to share them with. This tradition of education and support is one found in all communities, whether it be a neighborhood lobbying for better schools for their children, a religious order teaching kids how to face the world, or a baking blog advising people who struggle