When Lillian Lennon was 14,phim 18 cong her parents sent her thousands of miles away from her home in Alaska to Utah for two years to undergo conversion therapy. The harmful practice, which has been banned in 20 U.S. states and the District of Columbia, seeks to change a person's gender identity or sexual orientation.

Lennon is a transgender woman and while in the residential therapy center she was shuttled between a boys' dorm and an isolation chamber. She says staff refused to call her by her pronouns. Her gender identity was dismissed as an "excuse to be promiscuous."

A year and six months later, the center had given up on her "treatment plan." She was sent to a second facility that also practiced conversion therapy,where Lennon says she was subjected to further emotional abuse as she was barred from expressing her true self. She had a therapist, however, at the second center that recognized her identity as a transgender woman and, over the next six months, worked to help her parents accept her so she could go home.

Before her experience with conversion therapy, Lennon had moved between Anchorage, Alaska, where Lennon was born, and her tiny hometown of Talkeetna with its population of 965 people, due to her parents' job operating aviation tours.

"Especially being a queer person, [Talkeetna] felt very isolating," says Lennon.

It took her a long time to tell her parents she was transgender — and even longer to fully figure it out herself.

"Growing up, I really didn't know all that much about the queer community," says Lennon.

Through experimentation, such as wearing clothes not traditionally considered masculine and beginning to avoid male pronouns, Lennon's identity become more clear.

"I finally figured out, I feel like maybe this identity that I've held for most of my life, being male, isn't right," says Lennon. "I fought myself over it because I didn't feel that I had the proper knowledge or support to really accept myself."

At that stage, Lennon says the situation at home with her parents was tumultuous. She came out in a therapy session with her parents and, about a month later, Lennon was sent to Utah.

Now 22 years old, Lennon says her relationship with her parents is in good standing. Lennon is grateful for the change, even though it took the help of an outsider to transform the relationship.

"I think it took a lot of growth for them to understand where I was coming from and to accept me for it," says Lennon. "Things are tough sometimes but they're much better now."

When Lennon took a break from her university studies in 2018 to fight against Proposition 1 as a field organizer with the campaign Fair Anchorage, her parents were supportive. The local ballot initiative sought to deny transgender people in Anchorage the right to use the bathroom that matches their gender identity.

As business owners, her parents "were able to help work on some of the business coalitions to rally them against Proposition 1," Lennon says. "It was good to see them come such a long way."

Dispelling dangerous myths about the transgender community is incredibly difficult, she says. She believes this is partly because "we've been fed all this information that trans people are lurking within the community, here to infiltrate your bathrooms and hurt you and your loved ones."

She says humanization is key and that centering trans people without censoring their stories, which Fair Anchorage ultimately did in its ads against Proposition 1, works. Though the margin was tight, almost 53 percent of Anchorage residents who voted rejected Proposition 1.

"Through that campaign, I think that one of the biggest difficulties was humanizing transgender people," says Lennon. "If you don't know trans people and they're this invisible bogeymen, it's easy to get scared ... But this fear is not super rational."

Lennon wasn't new to LGBTQ advocacy when she joined the campaign, however. She co-founded Talkeetna Pride in 2017 with her best friend to bring Pride celebrations to her hometown and to support the queer community there.

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"We had a small vision at first, to get some people out in the park ... almost instantly it blew up," she says. "Organizations across Alaska were supporting us. We were getting people driving up here, several hundred, which is a lot for a small town like Talkeetna."

Though Talkeetna Pride didn't take place this summer due to COVID-19, Lennon says she plans to continue the celebration when it is safe.

In the meantime, she's taking classes on international studies at the University of Alaska, Anchorage, and works as an aide for a legislator in the state assembly.

While Lennon isn't discounting a run for political office later in life, she knows she wants to continue serving Talkeetna, Anchorage, and the state as a whole.

"The state of Alaska is in need of some real leadership and advocacy," she says. "The rights of underserved citizens are important, the environment needs protection, and we still have many crises."

While Lennon's traumatic experiences in conversion therapy, which she says included physical and emotional abuse, still affect her, she credits her activism with helping her on the path to heal.

"For so long during my time in Utah I was convinced that I was bad simply for being who I was, and that the things happening to me weren’t really happening, weren’t important, or I deserved them," say Lennon. "It was not until I started speaking out with the freedom to live openly that I overcame and thrived."

Lennon's story, like other activist profiles that are part of our series on activism, shows why youth activism is key and that even though you may be young you can still make a difference. Inspired? Here's Lennon's advice about how to jump into activism, even if you don't have any prior experience.

1) What's one piece of advice you'd give young people looking to get involved in activism?

"Build or find community. So much of the work I do I could not have dreamed of if it were it not for my wonderful community. Each of us has infinite potential, but to make the most of it and to do your best work, you will need people on your team."

2) Why are young people's voices integral to activism on behalf of LGBTQ people?

"We are amidst a new wave of progressive advocacy and queer activism where young voices will be the most integral to our movement. I have so much appreciation for the leaders of our movement before us, but many have failed to adapt to the times and it's past time we earn better representation."

3) What are some tools or resources that budding young activists can use to inform and propel their activism?

"Established activists within your community are generally accessible, and may even be willing to collaborate with or mentor you. Local advocacy and politics is where I started off, and because of its accessibility it is easy to jump right in, gain lots of experience, learn about your communities needs, and succeed."

4) What would you tell someone who feels disillusioned with politics or the current state of the world? Why is it still important to get involved?

"The state of politics now isdisillusioning, but to some extent, it always has been. As allies and advocates for communities, we cannot remain uninvolved due to our frustration, though it may be substantial. We are responsible for using our power and privilege to support and empower the underserved. Now more than ever there is no excuse to be a passive bystander amidst so much injustice and suffering."