In: Artists. Out: Algorithms.

Big capitalism has been steadily pushing us away from the core of what makes us human—intimate, authentic connection. The kind of connection that doesn’t rely on algorithms, doesn’t measure our worth in likes or followers, and doesn’t prioritize profit over well-being. Last night, Instagram suggested I chat with an AI Bot that had the personality of a coffee cup. Literally.

We’re living in a time when social media apps, which once promised to be a space for connection, now often work against us, fueling division and silencing important voices. In fact, the very platforms we’ve used to organize, share information, and build community have become harder to navigate. The algorithms that control our feeds are designed to keep us scrolling or buying products, but not always to help us build meaningful relationships or access the resources we need. 

We see social media and mainstream outlets being weaponized to spread harmful narratives. Meta is okay with people calling us mentally ill, invalidating our identities, and erasing our histories. This is not a new phenomenon; history, as it always does, repeats itself. Studying the Lavender Scare, or the burnings of Magnus Hirschfield’s Institute for Sexual Science, or the stigmatization and medicalization of us in the DSM, offers us recent examples – and more importantly, a blueprint. Queer and trans people have always persevered, protected each other, and saved our history for future generations. 

Young people need access to their history, to see that they are part of a long and vibrant legacy of resistance, love, and survival. We are not alone—our identities have always existed, and we will always have a place in this world. But too often, that history is kept from us, and we are left to search for ourselves in the cracks. These barriers are meant to overwhelm and discourage us. Don’t take the bait! 

Artists, too, are caught in a cycle. To constantly apply for funding, often for projects that challenge the status quo or provide vital resources to marginalized communities. But in the face of systemic inequities, it’s an exhausting process—one that leads to burnout and survival funding. And yet, art remains one of the most powerful tools we have for storytelling, activism, and healing.

This organization was born out of a desire to change that. It was inspired by the grassroots organizing strategies of the 1970s, when movements were built not on algorithms or corporate sponsorships, but on people coming together, sharing resources, and creating change through authentic connection. Organizers know the importance of free resources—of building something that can be shared, passed along, and not commodified.

That’s why we’re celebrating those things that work:

  • Paper publications that feature queer and trans voices, that are free to access, and that resist the commodification of our stories.

  • Accessible, in-person organizing and education where we can come together to share ideas, skills, and resources.

  • Creating art that is made for the community, by the community—art that resists the systems of power trying to silence us.

  • Mutual aid, where we lift each other up, provide what’s needed, and create a safety net for those who have been left out of the system.

It’s about rebuilding a future that prioritizes people over profit, history over erasure, and connection over division. By offering free, accessible resources and creating spaces where queer and trans youth can see themselves reflected in the art, history, and activism around them, a world that values love, safety, and community care.

We’re not waiting for permission. We’re not relying on algorithms or corporate structures to validate our existence. We’re focusing on what matters: real connection, shared knowledge, and the power of collective action.

With love and solidarity,

Lavender Education

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