For as long as I can remember, giving back has been a core part of who I am. It’s not about recognition or prestige—it’s about believing in the possibility of someone else’s future and doing my part to help it unfold.
For many years, I sponsored children in the Philippines through Children International. Each letter, each photo, each update reminded me of the real lives impacted by consistent, personal support. I cherished those relationships. But due to financial hardship, I had to make the painful decision to stop. That choice still weighs heavily on me, not because I regret helping, but because I couldn’t keep going the way I had hoped.
Even as my own circumstances shifted, my desire to invest in the next generation never faded. That’s why I launched a local scholarship for high school students in the U-46 School District. I started it before I was let go from my student teaching position. At first, I assumed it would be a one-time gift—my final gesture before moving on. But the students changed that for me.
Despite everything, I do not blame the students for what happened. I am frustrated with the district and its decision-making, but my heart still lies with the young people I had the privilege of working with. Their dreams, struggles, and resilience moved me. They deserve opportunities to thrive, and I still want to be part of that.
So, I made a decision: I would continue the scholarship, even if it meant asking for help. Due to my financial constraints, I’ve launched a fundraiser to sustain the scholarship through Bold.org. If you believe in education, equity, and giving students a chance to succeed, I invite you to contribute:
This fund supports high school students with a passion for anthropology and the social sciences—fields that help us understand each other more deeply and build a more just world. Supporting this scholarship is an act of hope in a time when many feel hopeless.
Philanthropy isn’t just something you do when you’re comfortable. Sometimes, it’s something you keep doing even when it hurts—because you know what it means to be on the edge and still reach out a hand.
There’s something both thrilling and terrifying about trying to bring a dream to life—especially when that dream involves starting your own business. For me, it’s a deeply personal and creative endeavor, one rooted in storytelling, artistry, and adult-themed gaming content. I’ve spent years imagining what this project could become. I’ve laid out sourcebooks, sketched out mechanics, worldbuilding lore, and even envisioned the types of illustrations that would bring it all to life. But as with so many creative projects, the vision is the easy part. The real challenge? Funding.
Starting a business from scratch isn’t just about passion. It’s about resources. And when you’re bootstrapping, every decision becomes a balance between what’s necessary and what’s possible. I’ve had to navigate not only the costs of creating a product—writing, editing, illustration, marketing—but also the costs of forming the business itself: registration fees, professional services, and a platform to actually share the work.
There’s this common idea that if you’re determined and the project is good enough, the money will follow. But that’s not the reality for most of us. Grants and loans tend to favor more conventional ventures. Crowdfunding is a gamble that requires a large and active fanbase before you even launch. And personal savings? That can only stretch so far before you’re making choices between paying for groceries or commissioning another piece of art.
Every step of the way, I’ve asked myself whether it’s worth it. Whether I’m chasing something too niche, too risky, too outside the mainstream. But I keep coming back to the same answer: yes, it is worth it. Not because it’s easy, but because it speaks to something I believe in. I want to create spaces where people feel seen, where fantasy and identity can meet in authentic and affirming ways.
I’m still in the early stages—lining up my structure, scouting for collaborators, and planning out ways to generate steady content. I’ve committed to using a monthly subscription platform to slowly build a following and earn enough to commission the assets I need. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. But it’s mine.
If you’re also in the middle of starting something big with not enough money and a heart full of hope, I see you. It’s hard. It’s exhausting. But it’s not impossible.
We create because we must—and we fight to build something lasting because someone out there is waiting to see what only we can offer.
In his recent State of the State address, Illinois Governor J.B. Pritzker delivered a powerful critique of the Trump administration, drawing sobering parallels to the rise of authoritarian regimes throughout history. His words, rooted in both his Jewish heritage and his work with the Illinois Holocaust Museum, serve as a stark reminder of how easily democracy can be dismantled when fear, hate, and blame are allowed to take root. As a transgender woman living in America today, Pritzker’s address resonated with me on a deeply personal level.
Governor Pritzker highlighted the ways authoritarian leaders scapegoat marginalized communities—immigrants, LGBTQ+ individuals, people of color, and women—to sow division and consolidate power. This rhetoric is not abstract to me; it is a reality that has shaped my life and identity. Growing up, I was acutely aware of the social stigma surrounding my identity. Even after transitioning, I’ve encountered moments where prejudice and misunderstanding threatened my sense of safety and belonging. Pritzker’s words brought back memories of navigating a world that often seeks to erase people like me, reinforcing the importance of standing firm in the face of fear and ignorance.
Pritzker’s reference to the Nazis’ attempt to march in Skokie in 1978 is a chilling reminder that hate does not disappear—it waits for an opportunity to resurface. His question—“After we’ve discriminated against, deported, or disparaged all the immigrants and the gay and lesbian and transgender people… what comes next?”—echoes my own concerns. I’ve witnessed how quickly negative rhetoric can escalate, especially when it targets vulnerable groups. This question resonates deeply because I know what it’s like to feel as though society is questioning your right to exist.
Yet, Governor Pritzker’s speech was not one of despair, but of defiance and hope. His words, “Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage,” speak to the resilience I’ve had to cultivate throughout my life. Coming out as transgender required courage, but advocating for my rights and the rights of others demands even more. Pritzker’s message reaffirmed my belief that silence is not an option—speaking up is essential to preserving both personal freedom and collective democracy.
The governor’s commitment to protecting Illinois residents from the harmful policies of the Trump administration is particularly meaningful to me. His support for affordable healthcare and inclusive education directly impacts my life. Access to gender-affirming healthcare has been crucial to my well-being, and knowing that Illinois prioritizes these services makes me feel more secure. Similarly, the proposed Prescription Drug Affordability Act and expanded mental health services will provide essential support for many in the transgender community who face barriers to care.
Pritzker’s reflection on reciting the oath of office on Abraham Lincoln’s Bible highlights the responsibility leaders have to defend democracy. His refusal to “bend the knee” to authoritarianism aligns with my own determination to live authentically despite societal pressure to conform. I’ve experienced both discrimination and acceptance, and I understand the power of allies who stand up for marginalized communities. Knowing that Illinois has a governor who openly supports LGBTQ+ rights gives me hope that progress is possible, even in challenging times.
History has shown us that silence in the face of injustice allows hatred to thrive. As Governor Pritzker reminded us, it took the Nazis less than two months to dismantle a constitutional republic. We cannot afford to wait until it is too late. His story of the 20 Nazis who marched in Chicago and the 2,000 Illinoisans who came to counter-protest illustrates the power of collective action. Their courage smothered the embers of hate before they could ignite into a wildfire. This serves as a powerful reminder that everyday people have the power to shape the course of history.
For me, this is not just about politics—it is about my right to live, love, and thrive without fear. Governor Pritzker’s call to “gather your justice and humanity, Illinois” resonates deeply because I know firsthand what it means to fight for visibility and acceptance. I am committed to using my voice to advocate for those who cannot speak out and to stand in solidarity with anyone whose rights are threatened. History has taught us the dangers of silence, and I refuse to let fear dictate my future. In this moment, as authoritarianism looms on the horizon, I choose courage.
For as long as I can remember, giving back has been a core part of who I am. It’s not about recognition or prestige—it’s about believing in the possibility of someone else’s future and doing my part to help it unfold.
Choosing Courage: A Reflection on Governor Pritzker’s Address
By Katherine Walter
On February 20, 2025
In JB Pritzker
In his recent State of the State address, Illinois Governor J.B. Pritzker delivered a powerful critique of the Trump administration, drawing sobering parallels to the rise of authoritarian regimes throughout history. His words, rooted in both his Jewish heritage and his work with the Illinois Holocaust Museum, serve as a stark reminder of how easily democracy can be dismantled when fear, hate, and blame are allowed to take root. As a transgender woman living in America today, Pritzker’s address resonated with me on a deeply personal level.
Governor Pritzker highlighted the ways authoritarian leaders scapegoat marginalized communities—immigrants, LGBTQ+ individuals, people of color, and women—to sow division and consolidate power. This rhetoric is not abstract to me; it is a reality that has shaped my life and identity. Growing up, I was acutely aware of the social stigma surrounding my identity. Even after transitioning, I’ve encountered moments where prejudice and misunderstanding threatened my sense of safety and belonging. Pritzker’s words brought back memories of navigating a world that often seeks to erase people like me, reinforcing the importance of standing firm in the face of fear and ignorance.
Pritzker’s reference to the Nazis’ attempt to march in Skokie in 1978 is a chilling reminder that hate does not disappear—it waits for an opportunity to resurface. His question—“After we’ve discriminated against, deported, or disparaged all the immigrants and the gay and lesbian and transgender people… what comes next?”—echoes my own concerns. I’ve witnessed how quickly negative rhetoric can escalate, especially when it targets vulnerable groups. This question resonates deeply because I know what it’s like to feel as though society is questioning your right to exist.
Yet, Governor Pritzker’s speech was not one of despair, but of defiance and hope. His words, “Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage,” speak to the resilience I’ve had to cultivate throughout my life. Coming out as transgender required courage, but advocating for my rights and the rights of others demands even more. Pritzker’s message reaffirmed my belief that silence is not an option—speaking up is essential to preserving both personal freedom and collective democracy.
The governor’s commitment to protecting Illinois residents from the harmful policies of the Trump administration is particularly meaningful to me. His support for affordable healthcare and inclusive education directly impacts my life. Access to gender-affirming healthcare has been crucial to my well-being, and knowing that Illinois prioritizes these services makes me feel more secure. Similarly, the proposed Prescription Drug Affordability Act and expanded mental health services will provide essential support for many in the transgender community who face barriers to care.
Pritzker’s reflection on reciting the oath of office on Abraham Lincoln’s Bible highlights the responsibility leaders have to defend democracy. His refusal to “bend the knee” to authoritarianism aligns with my own determination to live authentically despite societal pressure to conform. I’ve experienced both discrimination and acceptance, and I understand the power of allies who stand up for marginalized communities. Knowing that Illinois has a governor who openly supports LGBTQ+ rights gives me hope that progress is possible, even in challenging times.
History has shown us that silence in the face of injustice allows hatred to thrive. As Governor Pritzker reminded us, it took the Nazis less than two months to dismantle a constitutional republic. We cannot afford to wait until it is too late. His story of the 20 Nazis who marched in Chicago and the 2,000 Illinoisans who came to counter-protest illustrates the power of collective action. Their courage smothered the embers of hate before they could ignite into a wildfire. This serves as a powerful reminder that everyday people have the power to shape the course of history.
For me, this is not just about politics—it is about my right to live, love, and thrive without fear. Governor Pritzker’s call to “gather your justice and humanity, Illinois” resonates deeply because I know firsthand what it means to fight for visibility and acceptance. I am committed to using my voice to advocate for those who cannot speak out and to stand in solidarity with anyone whose rights are threatened. History has taught us the dangers of silence, and I refuse to let fear dictate my future. In this moment, as authoritarianism looms on the horizon, I choose courage.