“The wonderful thing about being trans is that sometimes you discover the person you needed to become was always simply who you are. After years of wandering, I have finally come home to myself. There in my bones still lives the child who cries easily and bruises quickly, who gravitates toward warmth too readily but moves toward the fire without fear. I recognized him at once. Excavating them from buried earth, I take their hand in mine. I find that I no longer require the armor to live, to feel safe. After all, I am not walking forward alone, but with every part of myself.”
In Both/And, editor Denne Michele Norris brings together an extraordinary chorus of voices that refuse to be flattened or simplified. The collection is as fluid and fierce as its title suggests, moving between memoir, cultural critique, and philosophy with lyrical precision. Each writer invites us into the intimate terrain of self-definition, where gender, race, and desire are not fixed coordinates but living, shifting ecosystems.
Addie Tsai writes tenderly of biracial identity and a father whose stage performances blur gendered expectations. Vanessa Angélica Villarreal finds freedom in the digital landscapes of video games, where gender can be explored without the threat of real-world punishment. Miss Peppermint honors the resilience of Black women who raised her and examines how white femininity perpetuates harm under patriarchy. Kai Cheng Thom exposes the impossible archetypes trans femmes are forced to inhabit—angel or monster, saint or shadow—and insists on the radical humanity that exists beyond them. Each essay feels like a reclamation, a small revolution built from softness, contradiction, and care.
What makes Both/And so remarkable is its rejection of neat narratives. It resists the tidy arc of “before and after” transition stories, instead embracing transformation as an ongoing process. The essays expand our understanding of what it means to be whole, to live within multiple truths at once. This is writing that feels alive, its sentences pulsing with joy, grief, and an unflinching honesty that refuses to make itself palatable.
At its heart, Both/And is about coming home: to the body, to community, to every former self we once tried to leave behind. It is a stunning, necessary anthology that insists trans and gender-nonconforming people of color are not metaphors or symbols but full, breathing people. Reading it feels like witnessing the future unfolding in real time: fluid, fierce, and free.
📖 Read this if you love: intimate, lyrical nonfiction that blurs memoir and theory; writing that explores queerness, race, and selfhood with emotional precision; and the works of Kai Cheng Thom, Akwaeke Emezi, and Raquel Willis.
🔑 Key Themes: Gender Fluidity and Self-Definition, Survival and Authenticity, Queer Joy and Vulnerability, Intersectionality and Liberation, Reclamation of Softness and Humanity.
Content / Trigger Warnings: Transphobia (minor), Suicide (minor), Racism (minor), Domestic Violence (minor), Sexual Violence (minor), Medical Content (minor), Drug Use (minor), Ableism (minor), Suicidal Thoughts (minor), Mental Illness (minor), Pandemic (minor), Eating Disorder (minor), Suicide Attempt (minor), Sexual Content (minor), Sexual Assault (minor), Alcohol (minor), Fatphobia (minor), Child Abuse (minor).
Content Note: Please note that this book contains two uses of the R slur on pages 76 and 81. These uses of the R slur are part of the author’s recounting of conversations when the R slur was used against them.