Repairing Harm
By Jill
Last week, I wrote about harm–often unintentional–that dehumanizes LGBTQIA+ folks. In this post, I’ll refer to the scenarios from that writing to explore how we can repair harm.
Co-Banned Resistor Jay taught me a helpful structure for thinking about different kinds of harm and how to consider what work is necessary for movement forward. The structure– hat, haircut, tattoo–provides a short cut for deeper reflection and thinking. Here’s how it works. Have you ever walked into the world wearing a hat that you thought, when you left home, looked great? And then? You caught sight of yourself in a mirror or window and you realize your mistake. Oh no. What you thought made you look sophisticated/cool/laidback/interesting actually makes you look utterly ridiculous? Yep, been there. This mistake, the hat mistake, is an easy fix. Just take the hat off! You might need to brush your hair a bit, but no harm, no foul. Won’t wear it again.
Then, there is the more serious haircut mistake. As a person with very short hair, I understand this one intimately! You show your hair stylist a picture of a cut that you are just certain will look great. Their skeptical look doesn’t deter you. You walk into your home, look in the mirror, and ohhhhh. Nooooo. This haircut looks good on exactly one person, and that person is in magazines and in the movies and it is their job to have their hair done daily. You are not that person. You remind yourself that it is just hair, it will grow, and while you will be a little uncomfortable with the way you look in the mirror for a few weeks, it’ll eventually be fine.
Finally, the tattoo mistake. Maybe you aren’t a tattoo person, maybe you are, but regardless you either have a tattoo mistake, have a friend with a tattoo mistake, or have heard about how hard it is to get rid of a tattoo mistake. You know, the misspelled word, the Harry Potter tattoo that you got before you knew that JK Rowling is a transphobe, the name of your terrible ex? Once the tattoo mistake is recognized, the desperate need to fix it takes over. Can a long sleeved shirt cover it? What about in the summer? Can I figure out a gorgeous cover up tattoo and find the artist who can make it happen (and also save enough money to get it done)? Or, do I just need to invest the money and time to have it removed with a laser? Whatever the solution might be, it will take time, perhaps money, and definitely discomfort. It can be fixed, but with great effort.
We can look at the scenarios I shared last week through the lens of repair and the hat-haircut-tattoo evaluation system.
First, the hat. You realize that you have asked someone a question about their family or the way their family came to be that would require an intimacy that should really be consensual. This is a hat mistake. “You know what? I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have asked. If you feel like sharing sometime, I’d love to have a conversation with you.”
Another mistake in this vein is misgendering someone. “Oh, I’m sorry! Thanks for letting me know. I’ll use he/him pronouns going forward!”
Easy peasy. Own your mistake. Do better. I have found that when this repair is done quickly, it often opens the door for longer conversations, for trust, for deeper friendships.
Next, the haircut. My neighbor should have never shared with her elementary aged child the details of our family’s construction. Once she realized that her daughter was using that information–knowledge about my family–as cultural capital in the neighborhood with other children, she could have apologized to me and helped her own child apologize to my daughter. It would have been awkward, but it would have gone a long way. It could have looked something like this:
“Jill, I’m so sorry that my child objectified your family. I know we had a conversation, friend to friend, where you shared those details, but those details should have remained with me. I’ll talk to my child about privacy, and tell her that I made the mistake both in telling her your stories and then even once I made the mistake, in not insisting that she keep those details private.”
Her child could have approached my daughter and said, “I’m sorry I talked about your family. I would not like it if someone talked about my family without my permission or as though they knew all of the information. I won’t do it again.”
This would take humility, guts, and hope that the apology would be received. Like a bad haircut, it might take time, but, eventually, things would even out.
What about a tattoo mistake? How can those be repaired? Let’s consider the sharing of imagery or names or stories of trans folks before they were able to live fully as themselves, even if those folks have tentatively said that it is OK. It is not only harmful to individual people, but to an entire group, when we use a trans person’s specific story as an example to tell our own stories or explain our own understandings. If, in the example I shared, the person sharing images or names realized what a mistake they had made, they could immediately remove the social media posts. They could then issue an apology, detailing what the mistake was, why it could cause harm, even if that wasn’t the intention, and how they intend to move forward with new understandings. It could look something like this:
“I previously posted images of a trans friend when they were not able to live as their true self. I posted these because I thought it would help people understand my relationship [or, my friend, why I love trans people, my child, my friend’s child, etc], and I mistakenly thought that it was my place to use the life of someone I care about to bring other folks to clarity. Their identity is not my story to tell, nor is my identity centered in their identity. I know that as a person [friend, parent, teacher, relative] who is vocal about my support of queer and trans people, my sharing of someone else’s story could be taken as permission by other people–queer and trans allies or not–to share the private stories and images of queer and trans folks. It is not. I know that it might take time for queer and trans people to trust me again, and I will honor that need by slowing down, learning more, making sure anything I share is well researched and vetted information, and understanding that this might not be enough to repair any harm I might have caused.”
This, too, takes humility. It might be painful. It might take a long time. But, true community requires reparation for harms.
Listen, we have all caused harm in some way or another, intentionally or not. We have all been harmed in some way or another, intentionally or not. If we are committed to not only reducing harm, but to building fair, just, and joyful worlds for and with queer and trans youth, we have to own our mistakes, evaluate their impact, and repair when and where we can with humility and care.
One Small Thing
We’ll be taking a break from Banned Resistance through the holiday—returning the second week in January. During that time, what repair, conversation, reading, learning do you plan to do to support queer and trans youth?
Spot for Support
As the year comes to a close, consider visiting our past Spot for Support suggestions and choosing one (or more!) that speaks to your heart. So many LGBTQ+ nonprofits, people, and communities are worried about what 2026 will bring, and this would be a lovely way to show them that they are not alone.
I love this framework - hat, haircut, tattoo. Your sample language and concrete examples are so helpful! Thank you, Jay and Jill!