Yesterday, April 24th, marked the tenth anniversary of the publication of Queering Sexual Violence: Radical Voices Within the Anti-Violence Movement, a visionary and groundbreaking anthology.
While I, without question, sent my dear friend and confidante Jennifer Patterson, whom I know and love as Jennye, a celebratory text, I could not read her anniversary reflection until this morning.
Her reflection, published on her Substack, Love What Survives, is titled, “A Decade Later: Queering Sexual Violence anthology is 10!” I invite you to spend time with her moving, intimate reflection, where she shares many photographs alongside the origin story of the anthology, here.
Sitting with Jennifer’s words, I found myself reflecting on my own relationship to this anthology, and the conditions that made my participation possible.
In a world where queer and trans identities are pathologized and blamed for sexual violence, this collection pushes back against those homophobic and transphobic tropes. It gathers voices across identities, experiences, and histories, creating a chorus that refuses silence and resists oppression. It insists that queer and trans survivors are not marginal to the conversation, but central to how we understand, name, and transform violence.
Sixteen years ago, Jennifer invited me to contribute. I was reticent.
While I was publicly out as a survivor of adult sexual violence, having completed and released my film, NO! The Rape Documentary, I was not ready to speak about the childhood sexual violence I survived. Jennifer met me there with patience, compassion, and care. Without knowing the full scope, I know I was not the only contributor she held in this way. She was, in many respects, a doula for the contributors while simultaneously bringing this anthology into the world.
I initially submitted a piece. It was fine, but it was not my full truth. I was still protecting those who had harmed me, the harmdoers and the bystanders who, through their inaction, were also harmdoers.
Weeks before the manuscript was due, I reached out to ask if I could revise or withdraw my essay. I imagine this was not easy to receive, especially so close to submission. Still, Jennifer created space for me to return to the work with integrity.
That return was not simple. It meant sitting with what I had not yet been willing to name and feeling the weight of breaking silence in a different way. It meant risking a fuller truth, one that did not collapse complexity or abandon compassion, but also did not obscure harm. It was a Dharma practice, a deliberate turning toward what I had not yet been willing to face, meeting it with as much clarity and compassion as I could. This unfolded in the months before the anthology’s 2016 publication. What emerged was an essay that named the harm and the harmdoers, while holding all of it with care.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, that process became a catalyst and foundation for love WITH accountability®. For that, I remain deeply grateful. In Fall 2016, Jennifer also designed the first iteration of the love WITH accountability website and, several years later in 2019, was among the first to offer a blurb for the anthology.
As I return to Jennifer’s reflection on this milestone anniversary, I am reminded of her vision and steadfastness. Queering Sexual Violence: Radical Voices Within the Anti-Violence Movement has been both a lifeline and a roadmap for many, myself included. It not only documented truths that were too often ignored or dismissed, it helped shape the conditions for those truths to be spoken at all.
Ten years later, Queering Sexual Violence continues to stand. Both a time capsule and a living map, amplifying the voices of multi-racial, multi-gender queer and trans survivors, and guiding us toward the work that remains. In this moment, when so many are still working to name harm, seek accountability, and imagine responses beyond punishment, its relevance is undiminished.
Happy anniversary, Jennifer, with so much love and respect.
You can purchase copies of the anthology through Jennifer’s website, Bookshop, or your preferred bookseller.
Well, friend, I've already texted you but bless you and this reflection! I still remember this one moment when I was feeling really down about all the rejections and you told me something like "This will be in the world because it must!" and I really held onto that until it was true. As I've said-- it was and is a gift of a lifetime to engage with your necessary work and to be your friend, too. Lucky us! And thank you thank you thank you.