Dungeons & Dragons

I’m finally gonna get my D&D on, y’all — for realz!

Since I was in middle school, and first heard about the then pretty new role-playing game, I was destined for that shit. Hell, I was a DM (that’s the lingo for Dungeon Master), before I even knew that Dungeons and Dragons as anything other than a Saturday afternoon creature double feature. For as long as I remember, I was marshaling groups of my friends into organized games of make-believe, where I would describe the world we were in and then we’d go into our roles escaping volcanoes, avoiding giant alligators, or hunting vampires.

I was already gender queer by the age of six. While the boys who played with me—there were never girls involved—chose names like Jack and Michael, I was always Susie. None of the boys seemed bothered that I’d identified as female. They seemed to dig the hell out of saving me when I play-fainted, carrying me to safety. It would be years before playing “girl” became a taboo kind of thing. By then, I’d kissed most of the boys on the block.

The time comes when childhood games get set aside, and adult interests creep in to replace them. The boys found sports and “real” girls to occupy their time—at least some of them did. Some boys still managed to find stolen moments here and there to escape to the closet with me for a little hot snogging. We called it the hootchie-kootchie. My love of boys and make-believe followed me into adulthood, though. My taste in men seasoned, of course—I like them fully grown with a little salt and pepper on top—and the play now gets shrouded in so much professionalism to where it ain’t no fun at all.

It’s a fucking miracle I came across—during a pandemic, no doubt—a group of so-called adults who, I guess, think that playing make-believe is a still cool thing to do. I’ll be starting my first D&D adventure in just a couple days and I am so frigging excited, my damn head could explode. I’ll be playing as a Half-Elf named Ouran. They’re gender non-conforming and magical AF. I’ve already written an elaborate back story and plan to send the final tweaked version to our DM later today.

I’ll let y’all know how it goes, but I wanna urge folks: Please find ways to play together. Just because things are uncertain AF, doesn’t mean we can’t squeeze every ounce of joy out of life we can. We only get a little slice. Eat up, beeyotchez! Lol!

Pink Flowers

Pink Flowers is a Black trans artist, peacemaker, educator, and pleasure activist whose work lives at the intersection of embodiment, governance, and cultural transformation. Trained in Theater of the Oppressed, Art of Hosting, and Navajo-informed Peacemaking practices, Pink designs spaces where conflict can be addressed, power can be examined, and joy can be reclaimed.

Her artistic and pedagogical practice draws from African trickster cosmology, Brazilian Joker traditions, shamanic ritual, and cooperative economics. She is the founder of the award-winning Falconworks Theater Company (2005–2021), which used popular theater to build civic capacity and participatory leadership in historically marginalized communities.

Pink served for over five years as a trained Peacemaker in the Red Hook Community Justice Center in Brooklyn, facilitating restorative processes within the New York City court system. From 2015–2018, she worked in cooperative business development with the Center for Family Life, supporting worker-owned enterprises in immigrant communities.

She currently serves as Director of Education and Training for the Inter-Cooperative Council in Ann Arbor, where she leads leadership development and conflict engagement initiatives. Her work has been presented nationally and internationally, including at the Stretch Festival in Berlin and the Pedagogy and Theatre of the Oppressed Conference.

Across ritual, performance, mediation, and institutional design, Pink’s work asks a central question:

What becomes possible when we refuse shame and choose conscious power instead?

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