The Queen of Wands has special meaning for me because it has a way of connecting me with my past. Traditionally, the tarot suites are assigned a sort of occupation or ‘place’ in the world, and wands are definitely the laborers of the four. I came from a working class background, so this speaks to me even as I move into the more ‘cups’ domain of social work. I love that the working class is given the element of fire – we are always a people ready to make change, to rise up against oppression, and to start a fire with our passion. Seeing the wands as both working class and fire has an element of activism to it that I absolutely adore.
Working class women, in particular, have that fire. The Queen of Wands does not take bull from anyone. I always imagined myself growing into a Queen of Wands, but it never quite came to be – when I came out as a trans man, I learned to admire her from afar without trying to be like her. This was deeply unsettling and uncomfortable for me, and the grief process for the woman I was just would not end. When I came out as a non binary trans person, I took control of my own gender identity and reclaimed the first part of my life and how it had shaped me as a person, and I was finally able to see the Queen of Wands in myself. The Queen of Wands is has a fierce and honest femininity, even as it seems to contradict with her rougher edges. While I still feel much more masculine than feminine, the Queen of Wands is a fire that refuses to be put out and is quite comfortable messing up our neat categories of self.