For years, I’d heard about the Creating Change conference. Friends and colleagues spoke of its impact, the connections they made, and the lessons they carried with them long after it ended. Until this year I hadn’t had the chance to attend, so when the opportunity arose, I jumped at it. I knew this was a space where I could learn, grow and be in community with other LGBTQ+ activists working toward a more just and equitable world.
This was my first time at Creating Change, and while I had some expectations, the reality was even more powerful. I was surrounded by activists from across the country, each bringing their own perspectives, struggles and victories. One of the most striking things was the deeply intersectional nature of the conversations. We don’t exist in silos—our struggles and movements are interconnected. The conference wasn’t just about LGBTQ+ rights; it was about immigration rights, racial justice, reproductive rights, interfaith collaboration and more. It was a reminder that when we work together across movements, we strengthen each other.
When I arrived, emotions were high. It was the day after Donald Trump was inaugurated for his second term, and the weight of that reality was palpable. But I couldn’t imagine a better place to process that moment than surrounded by people deeply committed to justice, equality and liberation. There was an undeniable energy in the air – a mix of determination, grief, anger and hope. Being in that space, surrounded by people ready to fight for our communities, reminded me why we do this work and why we must keep going.
One of the most powerful sessions I attended was “Southern Organizing for Social Change,” led by Bishop Tonyia Rawls and Cameron Pruette from the Freedom Center for Social Justice. They emphasized the importance of community care and intergenerational connectedness, a theme that resonated throughout the conference. Activism can feel isolating, but this session was a reminder that we are not alone. There’s so much wisdom to be learned from those who came before us, and we must ensure that our movements remain accessible and inclusive for those who follow. If we’re truly working toward a just and equitable world, we must build spaces that welcome and uplift everyone.
Another session that challenged me deeply was the “White People’s Institute for Ending Racism,” co-led by Charlotte’s O’Neale Atkinson, formerly of Time Out Youth. It was a full-day training examining how racism is embedded in our systems, cultures and even our identities. One of the biggest takeaways was that racial justice work is grief work. It requires us to reckon with historical and present-day injustices and confront hard truths about how white supremacy operates in our communities, organizations and ourselves.
A particularly impactful part of this session was the discussion on white saviorism. In social justice spaces, many well-meaning white people want to help, but too often, their actions center around themselves rather than the communities they claim to support. This session challenged white people to rethink their roles in the movement – rather than assuming they know best, they must listen first. We must amplify the voices of those who have been leading this work long before we arrived and follow their leadership. It’s about shifting from performative allyship to real, meaningful solidarity.
The conversation on intergenerational collaboration also hit close to home. The discussion on “adultism” – bias against young people in leadership – stood out because I’ve seen firsthand how younger voices are dismissed in advocacy spaces. We can’t afford to discount someone’s perspective simply because of their age, just as we can’t dismiss the wisdom of those who have been doing this work for decades. There’s so much we can learn from each other across generations, but it requires intentionality. We need to create spaces where young leaders can step into their power, challenge outdated structures and bring fresh perspectives. At the same time, we must recognize the invaluable knowledge and lessons longtime activists bring. Intergenerational mentorship is crucial—not just to sustain movements but to ensure that hard-earned wisdom is passed down, evolving with new strategies while remaining grounded in historical context. To build an inclusive, effective movement, we need to honor and uplift voices from every generation, learning from one another.
Throughout the conference, one theme kept surfacing: sustaining our activism. Right now, there’s so much noise, fear and confusion, and that’s by design. Those who seek to strip away our rights—whether it’s LGBTQ+ rights, immigration rights, racial justice or reproductive rights—want us to feel overwhelmed and powerless. They want us to be paralyzed by fear. But we can’t let them succeed. We must cut through the noise, focus on the actions we can take, and keep building community. This isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon. Burnout serves no one, and if we want a lasting movement, we have to take care of each other.
One of the spaces that reinforced this for me was the North Carolina Caucus, a session led by staff from the Freedom Center for Social Justice and the Hispanic Federation. This session provided an opportunity to discuss the specific challenges facing our state and how we can work together to address them. Housing insecurity, mental health and legislative attacks on marginalized communities were at the forefront of our conversations. It was a sobering discussion but also an empowering one—because even in the face of so many challenges, there’s incredible work being done. The key takeaway? We need deeper collaboration between organizations. We must share resources, information and support. No one organization can do it all alone, but together, we can build power.
As I left Creating Change, one word stayed with me: community. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, like we’re fighting an uphill battle with no end in sight. But this conference reminded me we’re not alone. Community is what sustains us. Community keeps us moving forward, even when things feel impossible. And community is what will ultimately lead us to liberation.
Next year’s conference will take place in Washington, D.C., and if you’re considering attending, do it. Go with an open heart and an open mind, ready to be a sponge. This experience helped me think about how I can lean into my strengths and passions to do my part and work in community to move the needle forward. We all have a role to play, and no role is too small. With Washington, D.C., as the backdrop for next year’s gathering, the conference will take on another layer of urgency and significance, making it an even more powerful space for learning, connection and action.
The question we must all ask ourselves now is: How will we take what we’ve learned and use it to create meaningful, lasting change? The work doesn’t end when the conference does. It’s up to each of us to carry these lessons forward, build stronger movements and ensure we’re always working toward justice—not just for ourselves, but for everyone.