Voices of Change
- Dr. Barbara Fritts
- 5 hours ago
- 7 min read
As federal and state-level attacks on the LGBTQ+ community continue, Voices for Change, the Diverse Holliston choir, continues to provide hope through song and community
On March 31, Transgender Day of Visibility (TDOV), the Diverse Holliston choir took to Blair Square to sing a collection of songs in honor of transgender people, including those that came before, are here today, and future generations to come. TDOV is meant to celebrate the lives of transgender individuals and to honor their place in the world.
The choir was founded in 2024 by Sara Stalnaker, a Holliston resident who is a musician and an artist. Over the past 18 months, Sara has led her small choir in local Holliston performances for the Winter Solstice, International Women’s Day, Pride, Transgender Day of Remembrance, and Transgender Day of Visibility. The choir represents singers of all kinds: all ages, all levels of experience, all abilities, all genders. All are welcome.
This year’s TDOV performance came on the heels of several devastating headlines for the LGBTQ+ community.
In February, a bill was passed in Kansas which, overnight, immediately invalidated the drivers licenses of any individual that has updated their gender marker. There is no grace period for individuals to become in compliance with the law, even if they wish to.
This bill also contained a bathroom ban, which criminalizes individuals who use a bathroom that does not match their sex assigned at birth, and allows private lawsuits to be filed against any individual who does so, by citizens who feel they have been negatively affected by a trans person using a public bathroom. A further implication of this law is immediate disenfranchisement of any Kansas voter whose voter ID is no longer valid to be presented at the polls, which is a requirement for Kansas voters.
Similarly, on April 1, as Idaho residents rallied outside the statehouse to celebrate Transgender Day of Visibility, Idaho governor Brad Little signed bill 752 into law. This law makes it a crime to “knowingly and willfully” enter a restroom or changing facility that does not align with one’s sex assigned at birth in a government building or place of public accommodation. A first offense is a misdemeanor, punishable by up to one year in jail. A second conviction within five years can be charged as a felony, carrying a potential sentence of up to five years in prison.
Just nine days later, on April 10, Governor Little signed a law which will require teachers, medical providers, and child care providers to notify parents within 72 hours if a child wishes to go by a name that is not a nickname or use pronouns not associated with sex assigned at birth.
Perhaps most devastating, however, was the SCOTUS decision on March 31, which ruled that state-wide bans on conversion therapy are unconstitutional, as they violate the therapist’s freedom of speech. As a licensed psychologist, I can tell you that conversion therapy is widely considered by all of the major mental health regulating boards as ineffective and unethical. It is a harmful practice in which a mental health professional will attempt to “convert” an LGBTQ+ person to “straight”. This practice has overwhelmingly affected youth, whose parents wish for their child to conform to their cultural or religious beliefs, but it is also utilized by LGBTQ+ adults. This decision has the consequence of now permitting therapists to offer and administer a harmful practice to LGBTQ+ clients in Colorado, and it sets a legal precedent for other states with conversion therapy bans to do the same.
The irony of the fact that this bill was passed on Transgender Day of Visibility is not lost on anyone. The cruelty is, in fact, the point. These judicial and legislative efforts make life more difficult and painful for LGBTQ+ people. They undoubtedly already have had devastating effects on the safety and mental health of LGBTQ+ youth, many of whom experience their only safe environments through supportive teachers, medical personnel, or their therapists. These laws supercede the overwhelming body of research citing if a transgender person has at least one supportive adult in their life, rates of suicide drop dramatically. They undermine the confidentiality agreement between youth and their therapists, which relies on privacy to establish trust.
They attempt to erase us from public life and put LGBTQ+ folks at higher risk for violence.
Violence against the transgender community is unfortunately not new, though the systemic legislative and judicial attacks substantially raise the level of risk. Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR), observed annually on November 20, began as a vigil in 1999 by transgender advocate Gwendolyn Ann Smith to honor the memory of another transgender woman, Rita Hester, who had been killed the year prior. The vigil commemorated all the transgender people lost to violence since Rita’s death, and began an annual tradition that memorializes and honors transgender individuals who have died over the past year at either their own hand or the hands of others. The 2025 Remembrance Report honored 58 known trans people who died that year, though acknowledged that the deaths of trans people, particularly transwomen of color, are vastly underreported.
So for those of us who are members of these communities or who love people in them, these are heavy headlines indeed. And we know they are not random, but rather a coordinated effort to continue to villanize and remove the rights of a small group of already marginalized people, with the goal of increased political power. When you watch your rights and those of people you love get systematically stripped away, it is demoralizing. Some days I feel like I’ll be taken under with the tidal wave of sadness and hopelessness that a better world will never come.
And. I do believe that the demoralization is part of the arsenal of weapons the current administration is using. This is psychological warfare, a continued, consistent sowing of division, pain, chaos, and outrage. If we are not taking good care of ourselves, we can become consumed by it. These emotions are the fuel that powers angry confrontations with loved ones who disagree with us on “politics”. These are the engines of division, and that division ensures that we will never come together and use our collective energy to create that better world we all deserve.
So part of our liberation strategy must be to refuse to do this work for them. This is where the choir comes in.
On March 31, when the Diverse Holliston choir was poised to sing its first note on Transgender Day of Visibility in Blair Square, no guests were present. A young member said, “But no one is here.” “That’s OK, sweetheart,” someone else assured them. “We will do it anyway.”
Just as the intro music began and we opened our mouths, we saw a woman entering the park to our right. She was using her walker and waving a single, handheld, Pride flag, with a smile on her face. We looked up and almost like magic, others started wandering into the square and approaching the awning. The sun was low in the sky and the wind was bitter, but our small audience huddled close together and gave us their undivided attention. Hopeful smiles, bright, glassy eyes, lips that mouthed the words to the tunes they knew. People were cold but they stayed. They listened.
Don’t let them break you down to dust, I know that there’s a palace for us.
For we are glorious….
I’m not scared to be seen, I make no apologies. This is me.
I want a house
with a crowded table
and a place by the fire
for everyone.
There’s gonna be brighter days, brighter days. I’ll keep you lifted when you’re losing faith, there’s gonna be brighter days, oh brighter days.
As the music swelled in the square, I felt like we could take off and fly. The energy bloomed inside my chest and I could feel it mingling with the smiles of the onlookers who tapped their feet and lightly patted their hearts while they swayed. We were doing something that mattered. And it didn’t make any difference how many we were singing to. Even if we sang to no one, we would still have been singing for everyone, past, present, and future. Before our guests arrived, I pointed to the empty chairs and I said to my young daughter, “do you see the ancestors out there? Who do you see? Do you see our great-grandparents? Do you see your children?” She smiled at me and nodded.
As our last note rounded to a close and we bowed to our grateful audience, I felt lighter. I understand now, why songs of resistance are born out of times of great suffering. Song, both for those who sing it and those who bear witness, unburdens the soul. It’s harder to be lonely when you’re singing. It’s harder to be sad. You feel that you are a part of something bigger than yourself.
So yes, your sadness and anger are justified. But refusing to be swallowed whole by them is an important act of resistance. It would be natural to want to pop off at the next person online who says something homophobic or transphobic, or to send these headlines to people in your life who support anti-LGBTQ+ sentiments and legislation. The current administration can count on you to do that work for them if you head into these interactions with your temper flaring and your pain seeping from your veins. So don’t. Be more strategic.
Balance your grief and rage with a steady diet of community building. Participate in mutual aid and networking. Share resources. Do something everyday that brings you or something else joy. Sing in the shower or dance while you brush your teeth. Sing in a choir. Come listen to ours (we promise you won’t be able to contain a smile).
Voices for Change will be performing on May 31 at the Congregational Church of Christ in Millis and on June 14 at the Holliston Pride Festival. We hope to see you there.
If you are interested in joining the Choir, please contact Sara Stalnaker for more information.

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