NOTE FROM THE COMPOSER
I sit on the board of The Queery, Brighton's major trans+ bookshop, café and queer community space. In my work there, I see so many stories of hurt and sacrifice in the challenges of being trans, but also stories of joy and discovery. These positive narratives often get overlooked in the noise of politics and “opinion” so we have a duty to raise them up when we can.
This is a choral story about a trans kid and a parent’s journey towards understanding and love. The quiet, determined love of good parenting is something the world needs more of. This piece explores that love — not through conflict, but through possibility. I want to show what’s possible without giving oxygen to the negative.
As a community, we share the duty of LGBTQIA+ visibility not only for ourselves but for every letter. When people can see themselves reflected in your love, the world becomes a better place for them.
THE TEXT
Under this light there's a shadow that keeps hiding
the box of secret hurt, but there's no lid to it.
How does the pain get inside of this space when there's
no way to open it, no way to hide from it?
And the house we tried to build you didn't keep you from the rain.
And the words we tried to fit you didn't understand your name.
If I had a way to change this, I'd have given you the world.
I see you now.
I see you now.
Look at the stars with me,
We'll catch each one falling.
I know it's not enough, but we can hold on to it.
CH
So we tried to build a house that would hold you as you grew,
And we used our ancient language, it's the only one we knew.
Is it really love that's given when you know it's not enough?
I see you now.
Jamsheed Master 2025