I met Kat in the mid-1970s in Austin, and fifty years later she is still an important part of my life. I remember her sitting on her bed in her Clarksville house surrounded by books, many of which she had “liberated” from the University of Texas library. (Of course, she returned them eventually.) The Clarksville neighborhood was originally built as housing for enslaved people, and Kat had hung sheets on the walls to reduce the cold drafts.

In the 1980s she moved to Taos and became our kids’ godmother. Kat was hands down the most supportive adult in our lives. Frequently in our culture a family that lacks social or family-of-origin support connects with a woman who prioritizes children in her life but chooses not to have their own. Our adult son Brian says that he saw Kat regularly as a child, often spending the night at her house. Unlike most adults, she knew just how to hang out with him, always respected his autonomy, and could be totally counted on to take care of his needs.

With her characteristic insight Kat tells of life in the lesbian feminist community in the 1970s, arriving in Austin via the lesbian underground railway, interpersonal trauma, dealing with poverty, and raising Lauren with and without Carol. She articulately reflects on parenting in our community and the gifts that children have given her in return for her ongoing commitments to them.