Luckily, on March 12th of this year, that most rewarding reason was what got me out of bed before the sun: The True Colors Conference.
There are three reasons in the known universe why I would wake up before 5AM. One, of course, is that one of my cats is dying; another is that my apartment is on fire. The third—and arguably most important—reason is that something awesome is going on in the queer world and I can’t possibly miss it. Luckily, on March 12th of this year, that most rewarding reason was what got me out of bed before the sun.
I’ve volunteered at the True Colors Conference for several years now, doing everything from assisting performers and presenters to providing peer counseling for youth attendees. Each year brings a new opportunity to help out and a new lesson to be learned. CCSU PRIDE (our college Gay-Straight Alliance, many members of which are volunteering together) is among the first groups to get there Friday morning, and so we get the early-morning jobs. Since one of the True Colors volunteer coordinator recognizes me from prior years—“you have a big mouth, right? Great!”—I end up stationed front and center before the registration tables, receiving students, teachers, and workers into the conference and directing them to the appropriate place to register. My mission: to get as many people into the theater as possible before the opening starts, while ensuring that no one attendee goes unaccounted for on the rosters that volunteers are checking off behind me.
Registration: the most hectic, and most rewarding, place to volunteer. My spot on the floor makes me the absolute first contact many of the attendees have with the True Colors Conference. Kids pour in off school buses and out of their advisors’ cars, decked out in fishnets, boas, and an excitement that isn’t just tangible; it’s intoxicating. There’s really something about seeing all those smiling faces and colorful outfits—some, I’ve learned, take months to create—and knowing that for many of these kids, the True Colors Conference means two whole entire days of absolute social freedom that they can’t get anywhere else. Young queer couples hold hands for the first time in public; young transgender and genderqueer students dress according to their gender identity, not their assigned gender roles, for the first time without fear. I know from experience that they’ve never felt this welcome or secure before… and I get to usher them into this world of acceptance and respect, learning and belonging. As a registration volunteer, I am the first impact on this, their most perfect day of the year. It’s insanely high-paced—and loud—but I wouldn’t trade the view from in front of those tables for anything.
Registration, of course, only lasts a few hours. On Friday, a huge portion of high school students attend the Conference on field trips, so the job starts around seven in the morning and usually winds down by about ten. After that, it’s a quick tour of the break room and bathrooms on the bottom floor of the theater—as usual, three or four students have managed to get down there and aren’t sure what to do next—and then a break backstage with my best friend, an entertainment coordinator for the day. After checking in with my GSA members over lunch, it’s back to work—doing TLC (peer counselor) shifts outside, helping confused students figure out what workshop to go to and what building to find it in, running walkie-talkies and boxes of folders between buildings, lugging sound equipment through the student union… by Saturday evening, the days and tasks have all melded together. There is never a dull moment for a True Colors Conference volunteer.
The work can be draining, but knowing that you helped to make this experience the best part of a queer (or queer-friendly of course!) student’s year would reward far more work than this. As an added bonus, volunteering for only two hours a day (most of us gladly go for longer) grants you free access to the conference itself—and you’d be crazy not to take some time out of your busy day to take advantage of that fact. Each workshop presents a unique opportunity for learning and networking; each opening or closing performance awards audience members an experience dedicated to affirmation. I only managed to attend two workshops this year, but I came away from both somehow improved. In one, I got to share the ways our GSA has presented the Day of Silence on our campus, and hear what other groups across New England have done to make their events successful. In another, I spent some time with a group of conference goers, learning from Scott Turner Schofield how to use our five senses to maintain our self-esteem on even our worst days.
The conference wouldn’t be complete without the opening and closing performances. I missed the opening on Friday to work registration, but it was so worth it. Friday night treated us to an abridged (see: all the musical parts) version of “Zanna, Don’t!,” a musical play about a world in which everyone identifies as gay, straight people are banned from the military, and love and acceptance are lessons learned by all. Saturday provided us an amusing explanation of appropriate kissing by True Colors founder Robin McHaelen and the drag queen known simply as “Momma,” followed by a fantastic presentation of “gender stories” by Scott Turner Schofield. Schofield—who assured us he is perceived in the world as a straight man, a gay teen, or a lesbian depending on what way he wears his baseball cap—used a queer “decoder ring” to assign number values to identity words like butch, gay, queer, trans, and body, and invited us to suggest number combinations; he had a story ready for us for each identity we provided for him. Besides being an awesome way to provide us with some fantastic stories, Schofield’s presentation reminded conference goers that our identities are far from simple and unchanging.
As always, the conference ended on a high note, closing with musical performances by the Connecticut Women’s Chorus “Another Octave” and reggae artist Naia Kete. The live music, which got more than a few audience members out of their seats, was rounded out by one of the most energetic drag performances I’ve seen—and that’s saying something. Each drag artist provided us with a couple performances—some about politics, most about fun, but all about being proud to be who you are. The show was encouraging and refreshing for everyone, even those of us who spend more time with drag artists than without.
In her closing speech on Saturday, and in her letter on the True Colors website, Robin McHaelen calls the conference experience “magic,” assuring attendees and volunteers alike that they personally held the key to making the conference such a success. The description may seem a little idealized, but it’s true—every single face I directed into the theater on Friday morning told me that much. The conference was nothing short of magic when I skipped school to attend with my friends six years ago; that magic has only gained strength and meaning as I have had the opportunity to view it from the other side. If you haven’t had the chance to experience this, well, I’ve got one thing to say to you—keep your weekends open next March!