Sometimes gratitude and doubt arrive together. Walking into a space alive with Black queer brilliance, I’m hit first by awe—the kind that stops you mid-step. This is the BQCS 2025 cohort: artists, strategists, storytellers, dreamers. People whose work has moved me long before I met them. And then, just beneath the excitement, a familiar whisper: Do I really belong here? That quiet tug of imposter syndrome,even when the invitation is real, even when the credentials are earned, can be stubborn. But being “in the number” reminds me of something deeper. Power is not a solo performance. Power is a collective pulse. It’s the way we hold the door for one another, amplify each other’s visions, and create room for voices that history tried to silence. So I’m leaning into gratitude as a practice, not just a feeling. Gratitude for the mentors who named my gifts before I did. Gratitude for every Black queer creative who proves that belonging isn’t about comparison, it’s about connection. Let’...