‘A Queer Guide to Saving Democracy’ by R. K. Maril

A vital, powerful, and compelling read, A Queer Guide to Saving Democracy was not a book I could rush through. I had to pace myself. I had to give myself breaks for my own self-care because the book describes a political and cultural crisis that directly affects me.

Here’s a description by the publisher for A Queer Guide to Saving Democracy:

“Since the early 2000s, American courts and legislatures have delivered a series of generation-defining LGBTQ legal victories. Today, this progress and the very institutions that made it possible are under attack. A Queer Guide to Saving American Democracy is an introduction to this democratic crisis, speaking directly to the queer and transgender people navigating the intensifying political and cultural fault lines. It argues that the current denigration of queer and transgender lives in the US is a symptom of the broader degradation of American democracy, representing the newest threat of American fascism. By centering queer and trans identity in the larger history of authoritarianism, the book highlights the strategic villainization of nonconforming groups as a tool to consolidate power and political control. In response, this book empowers readers to adopt pro-democracy frameworks rooted in the defiant authenticity and stubborn joy of queer existence, forging pathways committed to transformative social change.”

Within recent years, due to aspects of my identity, I’ve become doubly villainized. In an executive order on Feb. 13, 2025, the U.S. president declared that autism posed a “dire threat to the American people and our way of life.”

I’m also concerned by governmental rhetoric that insists on a strict gender binary corresponding to an individual’s sex assigned at birth. Where does that leave me as someone who identifies as non-binary? Does it make me an “extremist,” someone with a “radical gender ideology” simply because I try to live as my authentic self? And I’m concerned when private citizens act as self-appointed vigilantes to police who can and cannot legitimately use a “women’s” bathroom.

Those direct impacts that I described made this book very personal for me. (And I’m aware that being autistic doesn’t directly factor into the persecution described in this book, but studies have documented that autistic people are more likely than neurotypicals to identify as queer.)

In spite of its detailed history of persecution and oppression, this book ended on an optimistic note: upholding “joyful authenticity” as “the essence of queer democratic resistance.” I especially appreciate this book for acknowledging the courage that it takes just to live as one’s authentic self. Maril tells readers that “In addition to bold public statements or activism, quiet self acceptance can also be a form of resistance.”

A Queer Guide to Saving Democracy was published on Oct. 15, 2026.