Tomorrow Will be Different by Sarah McBride
Sarah McBride writes about her transition, her life (so far) and her fight for trans equality in her home state of Delaware and in the national stage.
Hope can be limitless. Inspiration can always be found. Ideas are endless. But time, that is the one resource that none of us can afford to waste.
This is definitely required reading. I’ve been reading more memoirs and biographies this year, and I haven’t had a single one that let me down.
This book, in particular, embodies the all-encompassing hope for equality, equity and legal justice for marginalized communities in America that Obama’s presidency aspired to—and did, in many ways—assist and lift up.
While highlighting the absolutely horrible discrimination trans people face in their day to day lives—from things that are as thoughtless for cis people as what bathroom to use or even if they can use a bathroom safely to finding a place to live and work that won’t kick them out for being trans to being safe from the attacks of cis men—this book details the work and persistence that trans rights activists have been putting in to wrest equality from those who would continue to discriminate against them.
And within this story of the fight for equality is the heartbreaking love story of Sarah and her late husband Andy, a trans man who fought nation-wide legal battles for his community, but ultimately lost his life to cancer. My heart broke for Sarah and for Andy, and for the trans community.
Overall, this book is necessary and required reading for anyone who claims to be an ally to the LGBTQIAP+ community, and for those people who want to work on making a difference for marginalized communities, and to affirm and respect other people’s gender identities, sexual orientations, cultures and religions.
It is a rallying cry for those who fought hard for basic, bare bones anti-discrimination and rights under Obama, who have watched as the Trump administration swiftly slapped down and erased them, telling entire swaths of Americans that they were no longer valid, that they were less than second-class citizens, that they had fewer rights than other Americans based on elements of themselves they could not control.
My one recommendation? Listen to the audiobook.
Each time we ask anyone—whether they are transgender, Black, an immigrant, Muslim, Native American, gay, or a woman—to sit by and let an extended conversation take place about whether they deserve to be respected and affirmed in who they are, we are asking people to watch their one life pass by without dignity or fairness. That is too much to ask of anyone.