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It takes a village to raise a child, and a world to grieve one: A zine about grieving together after unspeakable loss

It takes a village to raise a child, and a world to grieve one: A zine about grieving together after unspeakable loss

by | Jul 28, 2026 | Collaborations, Downloadable resources, Grief, Writing, Zines

Sunset over a rocky shore and ocean. Text reads It takes a village to raise a child, and a world to grieve one.

One of the projects that has been slowly unfolding over a series of years has reached an important milestone! We have completed the zine documenting our work together, and it’s ready to share. You can access the 52 page pdf in my proton drive here. (The switch over to proton drive is new, so if you have trouble accessing it, just send me a message at tiffany at groundfireccw dot ca.)

This project was a collective effort between me, my colleague and friend Frankie Hanman-Siegersma, and a group of community members who came together to collectively respond to the grief of a parent whose trans child had died. All of the photos in the zine were taken by people who participated in the project.

This project has taken three years to get to this point, and it’s not quite done yet. Frankie and I are working on a paper for practitioners, but that won’t be finished for a while yet. And the relationships that have grown in this work will hopefully persist for many years.

The zine is meant to document what we did together in a way that might invite other people to also undertake a collective response to grief.

A crocus on a field of green. Text reads "I can't imagine not having done this project now, because it sustained me in a way that I didn't know could be possible. - Carla"

It has been such a significant project – a collective response to grief, responding to a parent whose beloved trans child died by suicide.

Every time I worked on the zine, I ended up in tears. There is so much love represented in these pages, and such a commitment to showing up for community and for each other.

Everyone who was part of this project was willing to say yes to this… I know that’s obvious – of course the people in the project said yes to being in the project – but it really matters.

It matters that even though everyone involved was going through their own stuff, they said yes.

Sunset over hills. Text reads "It's a group of people saying yes, in spite of the world being on fire, let's work together."

It matters that the parent said yes to sharing their story.

Crocuses in a field. Text reads "It's so generous... you are hurting so much, but you allowed us to show up for you."

It matters that we all, every single person in this project, made a choice to be involved. And I hope that now that we are able to share about this work, other people will read about what we did together and will find ways to say yes to responding collectively to pain and grief and loss.

What we did in this project is only one possible way to co-create a collective response, and we outlined the steps that we took in a way that, hopefully, will invite readers (community members or practitioners) to find their own specific ways to co-create a response.

Here are the steps that we took:

A grey sky over a grey sea, with a wooden path leading to a rocky shore. Text reads: 1 - Create something that can be witnessed and responded to. 2 - Consider what kinds of responses will be most sustaining. 3 - Invite witnesses. 4 - Share and collect responses. 5 - Respond to the responses.

This project represents a huge investment of time and energy and care.

I have no idea how many hours have gone into it, but it’s a lot. And it has absolutely been worth it.

If you find the idea interesting and there is a collective response that you’d like to organize but you’re feeling a bit daunted by the idea, let me know. I would be really happy to chat with you about how to go about it.

A tiny snail on half the image, the other half is green with text. "Go as slow as you need to, to make it more possible. It's very okay. And in further snail wisdom, it's okay to curl up in your shell sometimes and just be with you, with grief, with whatever is there."

Love,

Tiffany