Youth Stories: Alize, From a Flyer to a Movement
It started with a flyer. It was a simple gesture from a school counselor that would later become a turning point in Alize’s life.
“I found it through Ms. Castillo,” they recalled. “I used to stop by her office every day after school. One day, she handed me a flyer with a rainbow on it and said, ‘I think you should check this out.’”
Alize wasn’t expecting much when they attended the first in-person Storytelling Lab session back in 2021. They arrived with their mom, dad, and little brother, expecting awkwardness and inevitably discomfort. But what they experienced instead was warmth—an ease, and for alize, a sense of community. A group of people where they could connect, laugh, and exist—without fear.
“It was the first time I didn’t feel like I had to try so hard to fit in. I didn’t have to shrink myself to be in the room,” Alize shared. “Even my brother joined the icebreakers. He still talks about being in the Rainbow Labs video like he’s famous.”
Growing up in a predominantly Black and Latinx community, Alize always knew who they were. They had come out as queer and trans in elementary school, but visibility and support were unfortunately limited.
But Rainbow Labs became a sanctuary.
A space where they were not only seen—but celebrated. Being enveloped in such liberation they felt called to continue the sensation once the Summer Programming had ended.
“I wanted to start a GSA at my school, but I had no idea how,” they said. “Rainbow Labs showed me that I could. That it was possible.”
What began as three students making posters became a pride committee that grew to nearly 30 members. Together, they hosted Days of Silence, brought visibility to campus, and created space for queer youth to be fully themselves—even if just for an hour a week.
“There’s this one memory I always hold onto,” Alize said. “We had just marched in the Unity March by the Rose Garden at USC. Diego spoke, I spoke—we shared what it meant to be queer in sports, to come from Latinx families, to be out. LAPD, firefighters, news crews… everyone was there. And for the first time, people heard us.”
That moment changed something. It solidified Alize’s role as a youth advocate and leader.
Our Sports Lab became another haven. As a student-athlete who played on the girls’ team but identified as male, Alize often navigated complex and gender dysphoric dynamics. At Rainbow Labs, the pressure melted away. “There weren’t boys teams or girls teams. Just people showing up to play—and to be seen.
Beyond programming, Alize continued to show up. They spoke on panels, joined community conversations, and even met Vice President Kamala Harris on her visit from LA back in 2023. “That day was iconic,” they laughed. “But honestly, the magic of Rainbow Labs is in the energy. The way we show up for each other. That can’t be replicated.”
Even long after graduating high school, Alize carries the lessons forward. They’ve built a chosen family—a group of queer friends who visit monthly, cook together, and hold space for each other’s growth.
“Everyone’s queerness shows up differently. But we’re all allies to each other. That’s what community is.”
Their advice to youth finding their way?
“Be the most authentic version of yourself. That’s how you attract people who are meant to find you. Don’t shrink. Don’t compromise. You are already enough.” They pause, then smiled.
“Rainbow Labs was my burnt toast moment,” Alize explains. “If I hadn’t walked into Ms. Castillo’s office that day, I might have missed it. But I was exactly where I needed to be.”
