Author: Brandyn Gallagher

I care about Truth. I care about evidence. I care about whether my words match my actions. I care about nurturing you, and I care about starving the lies from deepening their roots in you. I care about love, as an action, as an offering, as a practice. I care about transforming venom into medicine; fear into self-examination; nothingness into light, into warmth. My every action is performed in the sight of God. I believe if it can be destroyed by truth, it deserves to be destroyed by truth. What survives the fire is real. I build community. I build people up and tear egos down, so whether you love me or hate me is gonna depend a whole lot on the purity of your intentions. I show up the same either way. If there's something I can do to build you up, please don't be a stranger; let me know.

Sent Letter to the Bentonville City Council regarding the All Bike(r)s Welcome mural in dispute

Hello Bentonville City Council members,

I am a resident of Benton County and a 6th generation resident of the Ozarks. My uncle, Sgt. Jimmie King, gave his life in service to the U.S. Army in 1944 overthrowing Hitler’s regime in Nazi Germany with the sincere belief that he was protecting my future right to exist, to be free, to be happy, and to be welcome here in Northwest Arkansas.

I have spent my career serving the community—working in social services, domestic‑violence and homelessness programs, 911 dispatch, bilingual tutoring, and training new truck drivers. My presence benefits Northwest Arkansas.

Until last year, I excelled as a driver trainer and then became a Walmart truck driver, passing rigorous tests and ranking among the “best of the best of the best” to achieve that job. But this year, I was “let go” from my job due to anti-trans laws making it impossible to perform my duties without bathroom access in many delivery locations. My biological sex is neither male nor female, so I cannot legally use either restroom under modern anti-trans laws.

I recently applied for a job at the University of Arkansas, where I was more than qualified — but during the interviews, Gov. Sanders decided to make it illegal for me to use bathrooms unless they are single-stall now.

The governor’s removal of my gender marker from my license threatens my health coverage for essential care, including hormones that keep my bones from randomly breaking. Judge James in Little Rock determined last June that this anti-trans law would cause me irreparable harm. She was right — it has, and I’ve been struggling to survive ever since.

Can you imagine if the Governor just suddenly decided males don’t exist and have no protected rights? Imagine having no power to change it, too. Imagine having no workplace protections anymore. Imagine your neighbors filing complaints that men dare to think they should be included among “all” people who are welcome in an organization.

Imagine my life, if only for a moment.

Legislative actions have made it clear that some people do not want me to exist, in Arkansas or anywhere. They are fighting for the same ideals my uncle gave his life fighting against. They are now petitioning you to uphold the ideals of a Nazi regime my uncle fought to prevent here. If you need a quick refresher on how today’s anti-transgender arguments are all rooted in Nazi-supremacist gender ideology, here’s a starter citation list:

At a time when gender non-conforming people are being threatened with “eradication” from society and legislative steps are being taken to make that really happen, we depend on our local neighbors to affirm our right to life and liberty in the face of fascist threats. We depend on YOU to defend our freedom and human rights, and to tell the bullies we belong here just as much as they do, and to stop harassing our community.

When I see a mural that simply acknowledges “all are welcome,” it is a small kindness that a few people believe my life matters, that I deserve to be alive, and that I deserve to feel welcome and work in Arkansas, just like my family has for 5+ generations. It’s a little sign of inclusion that simply implies, “When we say ‘all lives matter’, we do not mean ‘except yours‘.”

But some people believe one of the highest priorities for our tax dollars, and for our government officials, is to make sure that no matter who has to go hungry, no matter who has to become unemployed for it, no matter who becomes homeless because of it, the most important priority we need to address is to ensure that I do not feel welcome here; to ensure I don’t mistakenly get the absurd idea that I belong in or around Bentonville, Arkansas.

Why fix potholes, or feed our children in schools, or make sure everyone has clean water to drink, or house people, or address gun violence on our local campus — when we could instead use those tax dollars to really make sure I don’t ever, for one second, imagine my uncle’s death had purpose or meaning to it; to make sure I don’t ever get to imagine that I belong here, that I deserve to be alive, that I am loved and supported in this community, that I’m welcome to show up at the same public events as anyone else?

They have certainly made their point that they do not want me here and would rather I suffer or die than to feel at ease being their neighbor. That’s gonna be between them and God.

Your part in this will be between you and God, too.

I am leery of anyone who insists on being a vessel for God’s wrath but not for God’s mercy; anyone who treats those unlike themselves as unworthy of life or neighborliness. Those exclusive ways of treating others unkindly are what caused Sodom and Gomorra to be burned to the ground.

The controversy over this mural makes me wonder: When these anti-trans nay-sayers used to respond to Black Lives Matter by saying “All lives matter,” but now they assert that “All bikes welcome” excludes White people — are they confessing that they never truly meant “all lives matter,” to begin with?

What do you, as Bentonville’s leaders, expect this growing city to become if you affirm their exclusionary ways to make sure minorities do not feel safe, nor welcome, nor loved, here in this region? Do you think catering to the “I don’t like those trans people” tantrums of the lowest common denominator will be great for business? Organizational Leadership research says it’s terrible for business. I happen to be nearing my graduation with a Masters degree in the subject this December.

You cannot attract the best humans while exuding the worst qualities of humanity. Particularly, the worst qualities for which my uncle gave his life to ensure would not take hold of Arkansas in 1944, when innocent, hardworking, deeply loving and kind transgender and Intersex people just like me were being rounded up alongside Jews and executed in German gas chambers to appease those nationalists who only wanted people like themselves to exist. You cannot attract the best humans while pushing me out of Arkansas. I am the canary in your coal mine.

To tell transgender people we are not welcome, to eliminate our jobs and push us to the margins of society and willfully leave us to die for lack of community support is anything but pro-life. It is “Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part,” which is the specific phrasing listed in the United Nations under the definition of genocide. One cannot claim to be both pro-life and simultaneously refuse the dignities of transgender lives to exist, live, work, engage in community activities such as bicycling, and use bathrooms without harassment, as these are all essential functions of living.

Sincerely, and respectfully, I ask you to put out the flames of hatred here in Northwest Arkansas. Tell the bullies to go see a therapist instead of harassing you over their anger issues about our mere existence. Focus on your jobs. Fix a pothole. Feed our children. Do literally anything constructive that benefits us all. Be someone of integrity whom your children can feel proud of in 20 years. Leave them a brighter future than the Nazis’ children had to feel embarrassed by and ashamed of in the 1950’s.

Most of all, please, stop giving me more reasons to give up on life than are already piled on my shoulders in this hateful society that chose us as its political whipping boy of the decade? It’s a small ask to just let us live in peace. Surely you have better things to be doing than fussing over political wedge issues that prioritize cruelty over neighborliness?

Please. Just let us live in peace here. And maybe see ourselves reflected beside the word “welcome” once in a while, so we have something to live for?

Warmly,
B. Gallagher
they/them

Crucial Conversations

Let’s talk about what matters →

I sat down with the manager of a 300-employee office in blue-collar Arkansas. She had a new employee who was non-binary and intersex, who used they/them pronouns, and whose legal gender marker was “X” for “other.”

She didn’t want to have to have this conversation. She wanted the employee to just show up and work, and be treated the same as everyone else – but legislators writing laws way over her head made that impossible, and she needed help.

Her biggest challenge was not being provided DEI training to help the other 298 workers in the office learn to be respectful – yet she still had to enforce HR policies to ensure respectful treatment of the transgender employee. Many of her employees felt confused but had no one educated on the subject they could ask:

“Should we ask about their pronouns?”
“Should there be an office-wide announcement?”
“What bathroom should they be allowed to use?”
“What if I overhear someone making jokes about them?”
“I just don’t understand all this trans stuff. It doesn’t make sense.”
“What does ‘queer’ mean? Why is it okay for them to use that word but I can’t?”
“People are afraid of saying the wrong thing and ending up in HR, so they say nothing at all, and that makes [the new employee] feel excluded and unwelcome.”
“How do I update their HR file since our company only has two options and neither one matches their legal sex?”
“How do I enforce dress code appropriately?”
“Is wearing a pronoun pin okay?”
“Is requiring a pronoun pin okay?”

“How can I hold my staff accountable for what they’ve never been taught? Many of them never learned to be respectful toward folks different from them. I want my employees to get along like reasonable adults, but I’m a general manager, not a psychologist,” she expressed at the end of a two-hour, one-on-one consulting session to help her understand what “transgender,” “intersex,” and “non-binary” mean, and to understand the needs of her new employee and relevant EEOC-approved (at the time) best practices.

“You don’t understand how difficult some of these guys are to talk with,” she said.

I very much do understand. I’ve dedicated my life to learning how to reach, connect with, and teach difficult people about all the subjects named on this page above.

Whether talking about gender or race, the barriers are similar and so are the solutions. Working through these challenges is essential to psychological safety, and psychological safety is essential to your team’s success.

Please take a deep breath and trust that we can all move forward in a healthy way together. A little loving communication can go a long way.

Book a complimentary consultation today to talk about how we can transform your workplace together into one of peace, efficiency, and sustainability.

Alignment

I was accepted into the MPH program at University of Washington in 2017.

In March that year, though, I had a life-changing encounter with a medicine man. I asked him what he thought I should know about public health.

I was accepted into the MPH program at University of Washington in 2017.

In March that year, though, I had a life-changing encounter with a medicine man. I asked him what he thought I should know about public health.

In response, he realigned my energy—like a spiritual chiropractor—so severely that my words made no sense to anyone for the next two years. Western Medicine called it clinical psychosis.

I became mute for a full year, and homeless for three.

No one could help me out of the pit of confusion and despair I’d tumbled into. But the way forward was clear, if incomprehensible.

I got a CDL and started driving a semi truck in 2019.

I learned more in that truck than any university program could’ve taught me. I listened to audiobooks and podcasts. I rolled the windows down and heard the wind whispering in the trees. I grew to appreciate silence.

I learned to be still.

I learned gratitude, and how to stop trying to control what I cannot change. I learned to discern, and better influence, what I can.

If I’d gone to grad school in 2017, I would’ve kept suppressing my happiness and basic emotional needs. I was already burnt out from social work and mostly-unpaid DEI consulting in public health before I even started.

“Just 2 more years,” I told myself, already fantasizing about the “finish line” before I began.

I would’ve pushed through the pain because “this work is important.”

I would’ve graduated in 2019—just in time to get hit with the Covid pandemic at my new job. No rest or healing would’ve awaited me.

Today, I’d be unemployed, like virtually everyone in my former field, whose departments were just eliminated by the U.S. government.

I’d also be $60,000 deeper in debt for a degree I now can’t use—despite its necessity to our collective survival.

Thousands of hours I spent in that truck, feeling out of place, wondering why my life took this turn, what I’d done wrong, how to make it right. I lived in the truck full time—even on “days off.”

That realignment in March 2017 made me incapable of betraying myself anymore, and it spared me that harsher fate. Trucking allowed me to pay my bills, even while others panicked and struggled through 2020. It gave me insight, too.

It grew me into a more effective leader in real public health—not just the kind universities co-sign.

Whatever you’re going through, I won’t patronize you with “everything happens for a reason.”

But I will remind you:
You didn’t come this far to only come this far.

There is healing on the other side of whatever pit you’re in—if you choose to:

🌱 sit with yourself
🌱 listen to your heart
🌱 name your values and write them down
🌱 choose your integrity over fear

Water the seeds of thought in your mind like everything depends on their fruits.

And if you need guidance from someone who’s made it back from the pit of despair and learned to thrive, 🌐 www.realbelonging.org is where you can book time with me.

Spring Equinox 2025

Today is the Spring Equinox—a sacred time when the light and dark come into balance, and the Earth reminds us of what’s already in motion, whether we’re paying attention or not. It is a day for pausing, a day for listening, a day for noticing.

Stepping Into the Light

For me, this season marks a shift—not just in sunlight and soil, but in people. The fruits are showing.

People are revealing who they are not by what they say, but by what they do. The clarity is striking. By their fruits, you shall know them.

There are those who are doing their work in the plain sight of God. They don’t fear examination. They welcome it. They invite questions, accountability, and dialogue, because they care more about truth than ego. They value what happens when diverse people and perspectives collaborate, refine, and co-create something better than any one of us could do alone.

These are people who bring their work into the light on purpose, not because they think it’s perfect, but because they believe in the power of illuminating the truth itself.

Then there are those who pull back when the light approaches and scurry, like cockroaches or mice, afraid of being seen. They report comments on social media for “discrimination” because they are asked—kindly yet plainly—for a citation to back up their claims about immigrants and gangs. When they finally provide a citation, it shows their claims about immigrants and gang violence had been factually untrue. So they silence the critic, instead of taking accountability for making up harmful stories.

Rather than own the error or adjust their thinking, they scurry away from the light, suppress the truth, and tighten their bodies and minds in a defensive posture that only ever separates them from the neighbors Jesus commanded them to love.

This is the fruit. It tells the truth.

The people who refuse to be questioned are not protecting truth—they are protecting shame. Or fear. Or some fragile structure inside themselves that can’t yet withstand being directly observed in the plain light of day.

Still, despite the swelling culture of fear and untruth, countless people are stepping forward with courage, too. I see you. I see people showing up to insist that decency, democracy, accountability, diversity, equity, inclusion, belonging, and loving kindness are sacred values worth defending.

Not ideas. Not buzzwords. Sacred.

We exist in a time where each of us is being invited to make clear by our actions where we stand in the quest for justice and human dignity.

Not performatively. Not symbolically. But actually.

What do your daily choices protect?
What do they reveal?
What do the seeds of your decisions today bring to fruition for others to harvest after you’re gone?

Whatever your role, however small or large your scope of influence and opportunity, you have some power today.

Power to make life brighter, gentler, kinder for someone.
Power to speak up, to make space, to question the story, to name what’s broken, to build something brighter.

You probably even have some power to do that at a systemic level. If you don’t feel courageous enough to leverage that power, reach out and let’s talk about it?

If you’re in a position to defend your organization’s autonomy from an overreaching government or an increasingly rigid system, let’s connect. There are likely strategies you haven’t even considered yet, and you don’t have to figure them out alone.

The only way harmful systems keep hurting us is if someone who benefits from your isolation convinces you that you’re powerless—cut off from the whole. But you are not alone. You are fully interconnected with all of life itself, supported by a vast, quiet network of thoughtful, courageous, and caring human beings, trees, and critters who only ask to be met with that same care and respect in return.

Please, if you’re feeling anxious today, let the light in.

Make the choice that feels like warmth; not because you’re unafraid, but because the world needs the healthy, nurturing fruits from your spirit-tree—fruits that only grow when you let yourself stand in full, honest sunlight and become what you were made for.