When Phoenix Lemke was a senior in high school, he had nowhere to go.
The family of the young man from O'Ballon, Missouri, did not accept that he was queer for a long time, and in December 2021, at the age of 17, he left home without a clear plan. A local preacher – spends days surfing code with friends until he finds refuge with an unlikely man.
The Rev. Susan Shumway, a minister at a nearby church, had known Lemke through friends for years and offered him a room when she learned of his situation.
“She has a history of letting people stay here when they're struggling,” Lemke, now 20, said on a recent afternoon as Shumway sat in his living room. “She was adamant about letting me know she supported me, and at one point I started calling her mom.”
Shumway is an anomaly in this deep red state: A clergy member advocates for LGBTQ+ equality.
In recent years, Missouri has been at the center of a national campaign to limit the rights of trans and queer people. State officials have been pressured to ban health care for trans youth, ban trans children from playing sports, restrict access to public bathrooms, and censor LGBTQ+ content.
As in other parts of the country, those efforts have found support from Christian nationalist groups, and Missouri officials have openly indicated their faith in implementing trans-control policies. Mike Moon, a state senator and author of the ban on health care for trans youth, has been cited for supporting his bill, which includes God and the Bible (and protecting child marriage), Missouri Attorney General Andrew Bailey , as well as Missouri U.S. Senator Josh Hawley. who embraces the idea that the United States is a “Christian nation” for promotion. The anti-trans talking point is that God “makes no mistakes,” falsely suggesting that children cannot be trans.
Shumway has a very different view. “I am a Christian who believes in trans rights. “I'm going to be loud and make sure lawmakers listen to Christians who don't incite hate,” he said.
Shumway is now campaigning to become a state representative, hoping to be a strong opposition in a legislature that is one of the most hostile in the country toward queer and trans people.
“The Christian right does not have the challenge of the Christian left, we have to come together and make some noise,” he said.
Shumway began his advocacy for LGBTQ+ rights in 1999 while in seminary, leading a youth group. As she prepared to leave, one of the young men believed he was gay and told her at the last minute, fearing she would deny it. “I said, 'So what? “I love you,” he recalled.
It taught him that coming out can be dangerous for many children, he said. “I know they are not the last young people to come out [to me].”
Shumway is a member of the United Church of Christ, a 770,000-member Protestant denomination that promotes inclusivity.
Over the years, he has helped many churches become “open and affirming” congregations that support LGBTQ+ members. She recognizes the discomfort of undiagnosed couples and tries to help them understand what it's like to struggle with dysphoria. He highlights the importance of treating people like Lemke with respect, even if they don't understand it. “I affirm God's love for this person,” he said. “I believe that God created the phoenix as a wonderful person of God like him.
“I think my job is to open closed doors and allow Phoenix and others the opportunity to walk if they want to,” Shumway added.
Moving with Shumway is transferable for Lemke, he said. She came out as trans after she began living with Shumway and soon began transitioning. “Here I can do what I want, be who I want, kiss what I want without being called a disaster.”
Last year, she posted a happy photo of herself holding court papers confirming her legal name change: “I feel so much better and happier.”
Lemke said he was estranged from most of his family members who were reluctant to acknowledge his transition. “By insisting that they have a daughter, they lost the opportunity to have a son,” he said. “I want you to understand that, no matter how much you think you know me, you are not living in my body. You don't live the first 17 years of your life looking at it and knowing something is wrong but not being able to say it because you know you won't be safe. “
Lemke said she still feels unsafe using public bathrooms in Missouri. While she was grateful to turn 18 and have access to gender-affirming healthcare, she also had distressing conversations with her doctor about how difficult it has become to support trans patients in the state.
Lemke scoffs at the idea that Republicans are “protecting children” with bills that restrict trans presence, laws that have been linked to a sharp increase in suicide attempts among trans youth. “They want to die because they're not allowed to,” Lemke said of some of his companions. “I really feel alive because I can get my foot in the door.”
Shumway said watching Lemke Blossom inspired her to continue fighting for LGBTQ+ rights. “It has been a privilege to watch these paddocks embrace him, to watch him grow into such a confident young man.”
Lemke is not religious, but he sometimes prepares food for Shumway's congregation. When her friends find out she lives with a pastor, “they say, 'Are you okay? Blink twice,'” he said, noting how many of them have come to associate religion with tolerance.
Shumway added, “The corporate church has done so much damage and needs to be healed.”
Shumway's House race is an uphill battle in a Republican-dominated district. Even if elected, he said he would advocate for the passage of an anti-discrimination law in Missouri, where state law does not prohibit employers from firing LGBTQ+ people.
Other Missouri religious leaders have organized against anti-trans bills, some motivated by their own trans children.
St. Louis Rabbi Daniel Bogart has pleaded with lawmakers to protect the rights of his 11-year-old trans son. He cites sacred Jewish texts that scholars interpret as non-referential identity. “Legislators pretend to be homosexual, but they are not,” he said. “There are always strange people. It's just another amazing way to be human.
“I believed that if I could prove it they would leave my family alone. “I don't believe it anymore,” he continued, adding that lawmakers would no longer recognize his family. “They stopped looking us in the eyes because it hurt them so much to see us as human beings… It works to make these Christian nationalist politicians fear and hate my son. “.
Despite being disappointed by the political process, she said the complaint encourages religious leaders to “defend the dignity and sanctity of trans children.
“These children need to know that there are people who love them and fight for them.”
