A lesson from small-town America

In the upper left-hand reaches of the United States is a small logging town that's not known for much, unless you include sparkly vampires or a long waterfront trail contracted by one of America's most notorious serial killers, Israel Keyes.

But something magical happens once a year in Port Angeles, Washington that is a lesson to us all on civil discourse, loving your neighbor, and what we're all capable of as humans living on this planet. And that something is Esprit.

Espritgala.org

Esprit landed in PA 35 years ago, quietly finding a home at the Red Lion Hotel and bringing with it a wave of color and culture, if not a little discomfort to the conservative blue-collar community that lives in a quiet nook of Olympic National Park, sandwiched between the mountains and the sea. In groups of two and three the women ventured outdoors, in long dresses and high-heels, big wigs and vibrant makeup. We called them "transvestites" back then, or at least "cross-dressers," but I think we all know now it's not about the clothes.

The Esprit talent show - The Peninsula Daily News

Over time our little town became interested in the visitors, peeking in the windows of the hotel and casually doing circles on the drag along the waterfront at dusk. We could hear them talking, voices deeper than they looked, but always animated and laughing. We didn't know that here, for just a week or so, they were free to be themselves. I think we thought it was like dress-up, playing dolls, or a type of cosplay. Turns out, it's the realest time of their lives, and most live their lives incognito the rest of the time. But here, here they were women. They were feminists. They were friends and lovers. They were trailblazers. If only for a week.

Esprit members speak on being transgender - Peninsula College Buccaneer

They called us the "teens at the window," the curious ones who parked our bikes along the rocks and leaned in. They even invited us to their galas and talent shows, taught classes at our local community college, and played pickleball with us, if for nothing else than to teach us that being transgender isn’t scary or even that different. And little by little the town started to show up. Teachers. Longshoremen. Pastors. Kids. Grandparents. The whole town showed up and mingled before we were ever taught to be afraid of gender-neutral bathrooms or fighting side-by-side on the frontlines. Before then it was just embracing our differences and acknowledging how fine the line between us really is.

Today Port Angeles is a lesson to us all, a nation divided and controlled by fear of those who are different. But here, in a town of 19,000 working-class citizens, the women of Esprit come every year to open arms. They fill the dress shops, the salons, the restaurants, and are met with "welcome back." And the women of Port Angeles protect their "girls," always ready to stand in the way of danger.

I'm proud of my hometown, proud that Esprit comes back every spring, and that the loggers, the teachers, the shipbuilders, and the pastors, with their wives and kids and friends, all recognize how much better the world can be with a little kindness and open arms.

Ellie is an author, editor, and small-business owner, and works with filmmakers, podcasts, and journalists all over the world. She lives with her family just outside of New York City.